Boxing 1989: The Greatest Fight I Ever Lost 💚 Complete Story

They say the clothes make the Man! Whoever said that was never a boxer. Clothes don’t mean a damn thing in the Ring.

I was a club fighter in my late thirties training at Santa Clara PAL. I had just gotten off work and arriving at the gym mid-summer and as usual it was as hot as hell. My coach walks up to me and asks if I will spare with one of his fighters. Turns out Rudy had gotten an automatic invite to the Nationals because of his performance last year and this year’s fights were coming up soon. I looked him over at him, late teens or early twenties, lean and maybe 3 inches taller than me. WTF “sure” Angelo was tying my gloves up as Rudy already gloved up was moving around the ring…………… Smooth and fast as shit but I think I can handle him. I warmed up for a round with him in the ring and was as ready as I was going to get.

DING! I am circling away from his right trying to work the ropes and use my jab (I thought it was fast). NO this fucker is Fast. I am parrying 75% of his jabs with my face! My nose started to bleed, but no big deal. I change strategies and try and put pressure on him. His foot work is way better than mine and I am still getting my ass kicked but at least I am landing a few body shots. The round ends and I return to my corner, drink some water and get a little more Vaseline on my face. I can hear Rudy refuse the Vaseline (must be bad for his completion) but I notice he is breathing pretty hard for only kicking my ass for 1 round.

Round Two. I am still getting my ass kicked! But am starting to land hard to the body and only half of his shots are hitting my face. Half way through the round were in the middle of the ring going Toe to Toe he is getting the better of the exchanges and at one-point lands an overhand  right so hard it blows me clear across the ring into the turn buckle. I bounce back to him trying to give as good as I got. I don’t land often but when I do, he winches and now finally he is backing up. The bell rings and back in my corner. I Am A Mess, my blood is all over my shirt and shoes Angelo looks at me wanting to know if I can go one more round, No Worries! I look up to see Rudy in his corner, he is unmarked but sucking air and then all of a sudden, he drops to his knees and throws up in the Spit Bucket. (have you ever seen what’s in a spit bucket at a boxing gym?)

Round Three. Back to the center of the ring. This round is way closer. I slip under a much slower left jab and counter with an overhand right. “WHAM” right on the fucker’s nose! Now he is bleeding. Smiling as I bite down on my mouth piece and work him into a corner. He is covering up well so I just bang his arms as hard as I can hear Angelo yelling at him to get the fuck out of the corner. He squeezes out and for most of the rest of the round just jabs and runs. DING, the bell rings and Rudy runs back to his corner and is on his knees again barfing. I am a bloody mess but smiling. This guy had amazing skills but thought he was so good he didn’t need to train. Did I win? Nope! But at least I wasn’t the Mother Fucker throwing up in the SPIT Bucket!

Thanks Jeremy Jackson, your quote “You Can’t Teach Heart” motivated me to write this.