Nerdcore Boxing

Two and a half years ago my wife was pregnant and I figured that my time intensively training in boxing was going to end. I decided to have my last hurrah and start NerdcoreBoxing. Fast forward 8+ months and I’m signing on for a unsanctioned smoker just before my wife’s due date.

My trainers at that time were into the school of hard knocks, hard sparring, wearing guys out with long intensive training and no belief in the concept of overtraining. They also like taking you to other gyms to spar experienced guys you will never see again who will beat you up a bit to gauge what you’re made of. Unfortunately they like to do this right before your scheduled fight.

About a week before the scheduled fight they took me out to a gym to spar some guy. This gym liked to bring in a few other clubs to form a crowd, match guys from opposing gyms and put on a big show announcing the fighters like it’s a real fight. I’ve even heard a couple people refer to this venue as a smoker, but there are no judges or refs so I’d hardly call it that.

That night I end up with this short stocky old guy who I was 100% sure I’d outbox easily. Round 1 opens and I’m coming forward, head moving, throwing jabs. Even though this guy is short, somehow I can’t land my jab and he’s catching me with counter jabs. I’m trying to come in at all different angles throwing off different head movement, nothing. Every time he catches me, changes levels and works my body.

I’m running out of tricks, and I come in and whip my head to the inside (my left). Apparently I’ve done this before because onlookers say he times me with a right hook which I whip right into. All I know is that I stepped forward and felt a jarring impact, but that impact was me hitting the floor which woke me up from unconsciousness.

To this day I have no recollection of the offending punch. As I climb off the ground two thoughts race through my head, 1) I’m not a real boxer, and 2) I should quit. Nevertheless pride kicks in and I beat the standing 8 count.

The rest of round 1 my legs are too wobbly to move around much. Round 2 is more of the same, me being a punching bag, him filming a personal highlight reel. At the end of round 2 I’m completely spent and alternating shelling and throwing girly noodle armed punches. I tell my trainers and they pull me out. The rest of the night was a fuzzy blur like I drank too much. Next day I have a headache and some dizziness.

Two days later I call my trainer and tell him I’m putting off my fight. A week later my wife gives birth and there begins the two years I took off. A number of people told me postponing was the right thing, but I spent 2 years regretting that call. This incident is intricately tied with my current boxing obsession.