Fisticuffal Freakiness.

It’s nice to be back on the active side of life again now that the sun has decided to hang around for a while and have a smoke. In the darkest recesses of the recently everlasting-until-now winter months, I’ve misplaced my drive to exercise and keep my Old Man’s heart rate a-pumpin’ from time to time. Mr. Doctor told me that I should continue this if I want to live. But I’ll bet that he says that to all the guys…

I did lug all my boxing gear over here, and though I haven’t been keeping up with my twice-weekly appointments at the University Club, I’ve recently been hopping over to the Meadows on Wednesday afternoons with a chum that greatly appreciates when I hit him. I like that in a friend.

It’s a good space to get some movement in, and to throw a few punches here and there…if only to remind me of the good old days when I was actually fit and trim and rarin’ to go. Chippys and beer will do that to ya, seriously. And age – have I mentioned age?

Though we pound on each other in a public place outdoors, very rarely does anyone get in the way by calling out rude things or approaching with sinister intent. Some folks even like to sit nearby and keep an eye on the thumps and thwaps. But a strange occurrence happened today during the two hours we took to the field – we had a bevy of bumbling bums come up to us, all of whom were being extremely dumb. Or extremely drunk.

One guy (with three teeth) wanted to “test his speed” against either Mike or myself, and as he weebled and wobbled I told him plainly through a cumbersome mouth-guard that there was NO WAY that would be happening. He gravely trotted off to his bench of eagerly-wating ripple-swillers with a grumble and a mumble. He may have not done so, but I very much valued the remaining teeth in his green, fumey mouth. How would he flip those bottle-caps off without them? Did they have names? I’ve seen Bumfight. I know what would have happened.

The Inebriation Award, however, goes to Mad Drunk Irishman with Dog, who gleefully clambered up to where we were sparring, shouting questions to us at the top of his pickled lungs. And he comes up to us with his dog, and stands basically in the MIDDLE of two guys throwing punches with mean intent.

Mad Drunk Irishman: Ish thedffef Kfegbwgn?!
Me: *annoyed* Huh?
Mad Drunk Irishman: Is this Kickboxing?!
Me: No, it’s just plain boxing.
Mad Drunk Irishman: I’M FROM IRELAND!!
Me: *dodge, counter* Huh?
Mad Drunk Irishman: You know IIYERLAAAND? *cackles*
Me: Of course I know Ireland.
Mad Drunk Irishman: You know MacGuigan?
Me: *gets thwapped in the arm* Yes, Barry MacGuigan. Sure.
Mad Drunk Irishman steps in closer to watch from A FOOT away.
Me: *angrily* Move BACK, man!
Mad Drunk Irishman: Don’t tell me what to do, buddy!
Me: *incredulous* I just don’t want you to get hit. Geesh! *right-hook, double-jab*

MDI mumbles to himself in surely the same language that Three Green Teeth did a few moments before, scoops up his dog, and totters over to a bench with a couple sitting on it, enjoying the day and playing some nice non-bum music amidst a warm pool of sunlight. He then yells to them and points at us and undoubtedly accosts them with stories of Ireland and Barry MacGuigan and how that damn Yank over yonder was threatening to hit him and what he would have done in response.

Should I have been meaner? Should I have popped him one, taken the damn dog, and told him that MacGuigan was a tomato can even in his prime? Nah, it’s not in my nature. Because strangely, I felt an odd sort of sympathy for that dirty ol’ Mick hidden deeply in the notion that I actually sounded like him when I talk through my mouth-guard.

Call it fortuitous coincidence.

10 Responses to “Fisticuffal Freakiness.”

  1. rachel_eurydice Says:
    June 9th, 2004 at 1:07 pm

    *L* Oh my….The bum stories, too amusing. I got a good giggle outta them.

  2. FunkyPlaid Says:
    June 10th, 2004 at 9:32 pm

    Oh, good. I'm so pleased that you can laugh at my misfortune.

  3. avalokita Says:
    June 9th, 2004 at 2:58 pm

    yumm! Boxing…. *sweet thoughts*

  4. FunkyPlaid Says:
    June 10th, 2004 at 9:33 pm

    *wiggles black velvet trunks at you*

  5. seolta Says:
    June 9th, 2004 at 7:16 pm

    Great story 🙂 *tries to picture it and falls about laughing*
    And how nice of you to put on a show just for the less fortunate street dwellers… i'm sure you brightened their drunken-hazed afternoon!!
    Is it always in the afternoon? … i suddenly have a desire to come watch you spar too, …how strange, i never expected to hear me saying that 😉

  6. pisica Says:
    June 9th, 2004 at 7:56 pm

    I was walking past with R and I tell ya, these guys were looking FIT.
    Also, it was kinda funny when D was showing some moves and punching the air really fast. Reminded me of a boxing nun.
    Probably I shouldn't have said that.

  7. FunkyPlaid Says:
    June 10th, 2004 at 9:36 pm

    A boxing nun?
    Honestly, that's a hilarious visual, but now I'm all embarrassed. I love those things, though.
    You're right; you shouldn't have said it. Lock your door tonight.

  8. pisica Says:
    June 10th, 2004 at 10:34 pm

    Oh, all right, a boxing alien then!

  9. FunkyPlaid Says:
    June 10th, 2004 at 9:34 pm

    Yah, always about 5-7 on Wed. Feel free to come by, but it isn't anything grandiose. It would be good for you to throw the ol' gloves on and beat on us for a while – it's good for the soul, I tell you.

  10. seolta Says:
    June 10th, 2004 at 9:47 pm

    Well if it's good for the soul…. and ya know, i'll try most things at least once 😉 Where 'bouts do you guys meet up?

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