Stephanos Reglis

Prof. Ferrara

ENGL 1001

20 October 2023

Slugging it Out

At Slick Sluggers, much of what I learned was simple: footwork, head movement,

combinations, and the like. When the time finally came to put all that I'd learned together, I

couldn't be happier. I was sparring with my coach and as one could assume, I got fleeced, and yet

I still had a great time because I knew those were the minutes that really mattered. The minutes

where I got to put the hammer to the nail and really put what I had learned to use.

As I walk in through the back door from the parking lot, I can see the white and green

walls of the gym, the huge mirror that runs across the front wall, and the three rings: one small,

one medium, and one large. I would spar in two of them; thankfully the small one was not among

them. I can hear the music over the speakers; coaches instructing and laughing by the front desk,

and new students learning punches and slips and rolls and pivots, and more. I can smell the

rubber from the floor and some sweat from the people really working in there. I can feel the

shoes beneath my feet and the wraps and gloves around my hands. I feel excited to learn more

yet worried that I’ll have to do 30x4’s again (2 sets of 30 fast punches and 2 sets of 30 power

punches). On a sparring day, however, I feel purely excited to get in the ring and attempt to

punch my coach more than he can punch me.

In order to connect my experiences sparring to the idea of justice, it may first be

necessary to offer a new definition of the word. In this case, justice would be the
accomplishment of mine and my coach’s goals in the ring: to learn and improve. It is

undoubtedly true that justice is often a slow process.

The best place to start here is my first time getting in the ring with my coach Jared. These

three rounds took place on June 20th and saw me making a complete fool of myself by my own

standards today. My hands were down, my punches were sluggish, and my feet were flat, among

other issues that I had to iron out. However, being my first ever rounds of sparring, I would say

these issues would be slightly more excusable than normal. After this session, I took it upon

myself to go back and watch the video of myself sparring. I winced and I laughed as I watched,

picking up both on my mistakes and what I should keep up (besides my hands). In a way, I was

watching justice in motion. Upon watching the video, I decided to practice a bit. I went to my

basement and wailed on BOB (Body Opponent Bag) while cutting angles, making sure to snap

my hands back to my face, circling around, and more. This felt good. The next step in my

learning journey would be to spar again with my friend Patrick. He and I learned at the same

gym, but he had some behaviors that were easy to exploit during our own sparring sessions. He

would always dip his head as I came in and go for a body shot and, being the novice that I am, he

was always able to land a couple on me. Knowing his proclivity to duck down, however, allowed

me to throw the occasional uppercut right as he dipped down, hitting him right in the kisser (not

too hard; I don't want to kill him). Despite this, he was and is a great partner, and the time we

spent beating each other up was as valuable for the both of us as the time I spent getting beat up

by my coach.

Some weeks had passed and I had learned even more from Jared, and I was ready once

again to hop in the ring. “You nervous?”, Jared asked. “Nope. I'm ready to get in there and not

get hit”, I replied. Although never a bad thing, my confidence was misplaced that day as I was
hit—a lot. I still had a ton of fun, though. Later on when I watched the video, I saw much of

what I'd seen before. Hands down, feet flat, slow punches. All the mistakes I’d made last time.

At this point, I understood that whatever I practiced outside of the ring did not matter unless I

was able to apply it in sparring or in a fight. The only way to improve in this area was, of course,

more sparring. And so that is what I did. Instead of sparring Pat only when we were hanging out,

I would invite him over just to spar, to put some work in. Here is where I saw improvement. I

saw my head movement improve, my footwork, my angles, my hands; it all looked great. With

this newfound confidence in my abilities, I went for my next rounds of sparring. These rounds

went much the same as before.

Jared kept making me punch air and he kept whacking me with those tricky ass shovel

uppercuts he loves to throw at me. However, I saw improvements. In some places where he used

to hit me, I was no longer being hit. Sometimes. Of course, I still got hit plenty, but the

improvements were there. Another aspect of my game that I could tell I was improving was

cutting off the cage. I saw that I was somewhat able to lead Jared in what direction I pleased, and

that was good. The only reason I was unable to capitalize on this advantage was that Jared would

have a way of turning defense into offense. Even if I had this guy on the ropes, I was afraid to

pour it on him because every punch would be blocked or evaded and most surely answered with

one of his own. And so I would be forced to concede my position, moving back to the center of

the ring to see if I could land some shots. I would only ever land a few.

Eventually, it came time for me to enjoy my final sparring session at Slick Sluggers, at

least for this year. Walking up to the ring, I felt ready. I was ready to get in there and show Jared

how I’d improved and show myself what I was capable of. Jared says, “Alright, last sparring
sesh, we're doing five rounds.” We normally fought three 2-minute rounds, but despite that, I

believed my cardio good enough to carry me to the end. I was only slightly wrong about that.

Nevertheless, the first round began. This time, instead of simply shelling up and waiting

to counter as I usually did, I decided to be more offensive, using my footwork to cut off the cage

from Jared, backing him against the ropes and cutting angles on him. Honestly, had I been more

experienced sparring, this would've been a 10/10 session. Anyway, the first round went mostly

like that, except that I was parrying his punches a lot more (something I knew I had to add into

my game from last time,. I was even hitting him with the occasional jab to the body and even the

head, which was and still is an enormous accomplishment for me (trying to hit Jared is like

trying to catch a fly out of the air with a pair of chopsticks).

The second round of our bout came along and I was feeling confident; I wasn't very tired,

nor had I been hit too many times. I was doing pretty damn well for myself. I kept up much of

the same activities as the previous round, circling around, trying to counter off his jab, etc.

Throughout this round, I continued to hit Jared as he continued to hit me, of course. I was even

able to hit him with a leaping left hook, which was just a transcendent experience for someone

who could barely hit this guy after a few weeks of doing nothing but trying to hit him. The round

progressed and I continued to use my footwork to great success. I was hitting him much more

consistently, and at one point, I hit Jared with a combination that one could reasonably describe

as orgasmic. I jumped to the left of my adversary while simultaneously scooping a left hook into

his liver. I followed up with a left hook up top, which of course he dodged, but as he went to slip

out of the next shot, I followed his head to where he was going and landed the most beautiful

cross right on his temple.

 Herein was my justice. All the time I had spent in that gym, training, sweating, hurting.

All of it was beginning to pay off because I was finally able to hit my coach. And although this

definition of justice is not the traditional one, is it not still true that the greatest justice of all is

one getting what he has worked for? That a man may reap what he has sown? Just as John

Wayne Gacy deserved the death penalty for his crimes, so did Muhammad Ali deserve to win

back the heavyweight title from Big George Foreman, as Ali had put in all the work necessary.

Now, although I had achieved some form of justice in that ring, it was time for Jared to

experience a bit of his own.

I’ll skip ahead to the 5th round. I had been very active in the previous four rounds and

ironically, another form of justice was here: myself being more fatigued than I'd ever been in my

life. Now, an outsider may say to this, “Preposterous! How could a man tire from only fighting

for 2 minutes at a time?” To that person, I say, get in a ring and fight for 10 minutes. As Jared

always likes to say “Boxing shape is a different kind of shape”. But I digress. Going into this

fifth and final round, I was nervous, but ready. The round began and I knew how it was gonna

go. Jared, merciful as he is, was more than willing to just hang in the pocket with me. Even being

this close, I was only getting off one, two, maybe three shots at a time, most of which only met

his gloves. Regardless, I continued. I tried to keep my hands and arms ready to block every

punch, high or low. Of course, some got through, but I still felt I was defending at least

somewhat competently. Funnily enough, this is the round that shows some of my flaws as a

boxer. One example that sticks out like a sore thumb in the recording is me holding my arms way

too far from my body in a way that made it all too easy for body shots to hit me. Jared was even

trying to show me this during the match by imitating my mistake. Myself, being as clueless and

fatigued as I was, did not pick up on this despite the ease with which I was hitting his body. This
is how the round went until it ended. When that final bell sounded I could not be more elated and

relieved. Jared and I hugged and it took everything out of me not to collapse from sheer

exhaustion. Being in there, though, fighting through all that adversity, it made me feel

accomplished beyond words. I had mounted a somewhat successful offense against Jared! Not

only that, but I was honestly quite happy with the improvements I had made to my cardio.

Whereas during the very previous session, I was tired after three rounds, here I was able to make

it past 5. That really felt good.

As someone who had never really played a sport before, I felt inferior to my peers,

especially since I went to a high school where nearly everyone was on some team. I felt small,

both physically and socially. Boxing was my way to change that. Through the sport, I became

more disciplined, more athletic, more powerful. I could finally put all my frustrations and

insecurities into something that was good for me. Now–although still a novice–I feel stronger

than I once did. I'm more confident than I once was. I know I could defend myself and others

should I ever need to, and I know that putting in all the work that I have has made me into a

better man. Through this sport, I became equal to my peers. Now I, too, have something to be

proud of, something to pursue, something to put every ounce of my spirit into. That is justice.