Monday, September 28, 2009

A Lover—Not a Fighter

The only real knockdown-drag-out fight I remember was in 9th grade during art class. This classmate who shall remain nameless, mainly because I can’t recall his name, but who I later found out was a Golden Gloves boxer, punched me several times in the eye with his left, after which I dropped dazedly to my knees and, upon coming to my senses seeing, out of my “good” eye, Gladys Pokela with a cold paper towel, holding it on my eye while “chewing out” the boxer.

The fight started because I had accidentally smudged his “masterpiece,” followed by his reciprocating. And then the escalation began. I was more of a wrestler than a street fighter and threw my sudden adversary over 3 desks before he began using my eye as a punching bag. It was over fairly quickly and I have to say it was worth it. I had been trying to get “Pokey’s” attention all year.

2 comments:

  1. I had a similar experience in 6th grade. 'Red' Nelson, much smaller than me, beat the s**t out of me. Never fought again.

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  2. Thanks for sharing. Wisdom comes with experience. MM

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