0-1: The Fight

This is how the fight was for me. It's the next day, and this is unfiltered.

I got into the ring too early, maybe? I'm not sure if it was nerves on my or Coach's or both of our parts -- I was "sealing the ring" (walking the perimeter; a small ritual of Muay Thai fights) before I was even announced and the announcer said "already in the ring, in the red corner..."

I was acutely aware of the audience, and faces, and people. It didn't do to look at them. I was up and elevated in this ring, and about to fight this guy. I did not feel nervous-nervous per se, but I felt something, for certain. I found my girlfriend and blew her a kiss, which she saw. Shortly after that I tried to focus in and forget about the crowd, with reasonable success.

There was some absurdity involving my headgear. I barely even remember -- they had to fix the tape and then fix the fixed tape and then cut the fixed fixed tape. It was probalby no more than 90 seconds, in the end, and I was just kind of waiting. L--- was across the ring, and I for a bit thought he was not going to wear headgear and this sent me for a spin: it meant he had 3+ fights, it meant I was the only guy in headgear (I'm not sure that's even possible, I think if one party insists on wearing headgear the other has to), then I saw the guys in his corner preparing his they just hadn't started yet.

I don't recall when Coach put Vaseline all over my face. Maybe back in the prep room.

The ref calls you in to the center, soon than you expect. He says what you'd expect: clean fight, protect yourself at all times, wants a full clean fight doesn't want to have to stop it.

You return to your corners. He checks in with the judges (3), then the bell.

Round 1: You tap gloves and start in pretty aggressively; you think "I've got this guy" because he just doesn't seem that confident. But also pretty soon he's landing some punches, and you can hear from your corner that you're not really throwing enough action, and you're probably taking some punches. But you're landing some kicks for sure; some low-kicks that are buckling his legs.

This is the round you get tired, because it's a different kind of tired. It's a comprehensive tired from the crowd and the pressure and the environment and taking some hits (I'm not sure he kicked at all; there was one hard-ish punch this round, I think) and you're amazed that you're "tired" though you also know it's not your conditioning failing but this other thing.

The round is over fast.

Coach says stuff to you about stick and move, use the feint, move around, hook low-kick hook low-kick. Coach says if you're going to advance advance smart, throw the upper cut.

Round 2: You are eager for this round to start and pop back out into it. You're advancing but maybe not advancing smart -- you're taking hits. This round is confusing. Later, when people -- which many do -- tell you that they think you won the fight, it is most often cited as the round they think you clearly won. But it is also, in your retrospectively, the round in which you lost. Here are the salient bits:

Lost -- you almost get knocked out. In one of the flurries where you are trading and pretty close and you are landing more kicks and he is landing more punches, he hits you with what must be [given the soreness in your right jaw the following day] a left hard enough to dazzle, wobble your legs. You come back on it strong -- you hear the people from your gym shout approval at that, how you come out from it -- but it's a strong hit.

Won -- you overwhelm him at some point, and have him back on the ropes, and are going at him. But you don't really close it out. But it looks pretty good, and after the dazzler you are mostly pushing forward, although again, per Coach, apparently not doing enough as you push forward.

Round 3: This is -- I just shrugged, writing this. He seems more tired than you. You're kicking alot; he's still a better boxer, but he's tired. You're landing a lot of low kicks, you're moving him around. You land a head-kick; not hard but definitely land it, it's good. At one point you think "I've won this fight" but you also hear Coach D--- saying never let up, never assume you've won and you don't, you keep at him till the last bell.

You embrace. L---, class act that he is, says something about showing them what two old guys can do. It was a good fight and you both know it. You also think you've won, and think you are being both friendly and magnanimous. It's a good, long embrace.

You go back to your corner, get out of your headgear, get cut out of your gloves. It takes a minute to tabulate the judges decision. You are feeling good about your fight, particularly that last round. You're feeling like you won.

You go to the center and both take the refs hand as the announcer does his loooong drawn out thing about how the judges have come to a decision. You look down during the wait, entertaining -- because you are confident it's not the case -- the possibility that you've lost, because it's important to countenance that.

The announcer announces: blue corner. You've lost. You're sure something passes over your face, something bad, but it passes and you embrace L--- and congratulate him and go and again bow to his corner men and then leave the ring.

You go to the doctor to get checked out - this is regulation, of course. L--- is there; you perch somewhat companionably behind him, although you don't look at or talk to each other, perhaps because he is respecting the energy you may be projecting. The doctor makes an odd joke to L--- about his being suspended, "no sex for a week." L--- rolls with it though it's opaque to you. Your turn: the doctor feels your hands, looks in your eyes, sounds you out as fine. You get a yellow "Post-Bout Evaluation." You go back to the waiting room to towel down, and get cut out of your wraps.