a little flattered, a lot scared

Last night at boxing practice my trainer Seth seemed impressed with my hard work. Yeah, I try to work harder than all those teenagers for sure. A tiny little guy, age 12 and named Nico, came out to his fiorst class last night. Obviously quiet and shy, heightened by the big skinhead of a coach who asked him if he's going to be champ. After callisthenics I showed him how to put on his wraps. Smart little kid I think.

I've been staing late after class for extra training with the 4 young guys (14-16 years old I would guess) who are preparing for their first fights, along with assorted hangers-on who want to put out the extra. So last night Seth told me that I should start sparring soon, when my hand's better (I bruised my knuckle when I was shadowboxing at home and somehow smoked the edge on my bedroom door). The intial feeling of pride has turned into something a little more akin to anxiety but what the f*ck, what I am going to learn about fighting without learning slips and sparring? How to big a bag is what. Now I have a new threshold to pass, for the most part a mental one although certainly concerns about getting my pristine but not small nose busted or having my brain damaged are legitimate. I gotta drop a chunk of money on 16-oz gloves and headgear too but that is secondary. Hope the ladies will still love me if I'm ugly and stupid.