Went to the Library to study today…just wanted to be an average student with primarily academics on their mind. It went well, after I met up with some high school friends while having dinner at FMP today. Seem like everyone on their way to climbing up that corporate ladder…on the verge of becoming rich and famous…even in this recession. My philosophy has always been the fact that in reality, landing a decent job that will have a lasting impact on our careers will always be hard to find and compete for…but with this recession, we are blame it on the recession and hide under it like a blanket to excuse ourselves from finding a good job or getting a job at all…in a way it covers up for our insecurities (in the career sense)…but seems like my high school buddies are well on their way. I’m delighted to see them become a success story…maybe my high school business teacher was right when she said our year of students were the most exceptional kids she’d ever taught…wait a minute…that should include me too don’t it??…or am I too caught up in my childhood fantasies???
Everyone narrows their focus on school and academics which in turn gives us that high salary job. But for me I’m the one trying to balance academics, my military career, boxing at the top level while holding a part-time job to finance my endeavors. Of course school is unprecedented…it tops my priority. It’s tough sometimes but at the same time I feel very privileged to be able to accomplish all this. I feel very happy that every day I wake up excited just like I was when I was a kid trying to strive to be better in every facet of life...not just my boxing. Because I do what I like to do and it’s not something that everybody can say in this world, I know a lot of people, if they could, would like to change places with me…but I’d be lying if I told you school sometimes is a dread.
May be it is time to abandon this and focus on my career. But if I qualify for the Olympics in 2012 and perhaps bring the gold medal home…will it make it all worth the effort??? But if I call it quits…the feeling calm and excitement of walking in the ring with thousands in the crowds cheering at a moment when you are the most true to yourself…this will be nothing but a mere memory. The adrenaline rush…the thunderous roar of the crowds giving a standing ovation after my victory…the after parties that I host at the casinos and different venues…meeting celebrities…man those days can only be revisited in dreams or through my imagination…by then…no longer a reality…but the fighting spirit lingers on…
What am I thinking about quitting anyways??? I have a fight in a month in Vegas…dammit my right arm still hasn’t healed up yet and I can’t train and prep for the fight until it’s healed. One option of healing it is injecting steroids into my elbow and it’ll heal at a superhumanly fast rate…expensive with adverse side effects. I’ve always turned down that as a treatment option…but now it seems to be an incredibly attractive and viable option now. Well, whether not I choose to quit the sport or not, I already signed the contract that I’ll fight in this event in Las Vegas…but one thing is for sure, I need a long break away from the sport, and I’ll go form there and see if I have hunger to return and prove that I’m the best at this…potentially leaving a legacy…
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Divine Chaos (Part III)
On Sunday we had lunch with Hawkins and his crew, and sent them on their way back to Vegas. He’s going back to his office and finalize the sponsorship deal which my manager still has to fill me in on. He’ll then send it over and have me sign the contract.
He taps me on the shoulder, “Make me proud son, I’ll be there watching ya in August!” I smiled, “Don’t blink!” I watched and waved as him and his crew went through the check-in and on to customs until they were no longer in sight. I turned around and walked out o the airport. What was racing through my mind was…”Oh my goodness! I’m injured…not being able to use my right hand which takes away a weapon in my arsenal and a torn ligament in my knee which restricts my mobility…how am I ever going to take on my opponent who is a juggernaut. At this point…it’s the first time saying this…but…I half accepted the fact that I might not win…but I just want to put on a good performance and a good spectacle for everyone who came to watch. Just as I was worrying about that my friend called…she passed her piano ARCT exam. “Now I’m a level ahead of you…” she joked. Damn…I should have done ARCT as soon as I finished my grade 10 piano. She invited me for dinner with her and her friends…good times…I’m happy for her…
He taps me on the shoulder, “Make me proud son, I’ll be there watching ya in August!” I smiled, “Don’t blink!” I watched and waved as him and his crew went through the check-in and on to customs until they were no longer in sight. I turned around and walked out o the airport. What was racing through my mind was…”Oh my goodness! I’m injured…not being able to use my right hand which takes away a weapon in my arsenal and a torn ligament in my knee which restricts my mobility…how am I ever going to take on my opponent who is a juggernaut. At this point…it’s the first time saying this…but…I half accepted the fact that I might not win…but I just want to put on a good performance and a good spectacle for everyone who came to watch. Just as I was worrying about that my friend called…she passed her piano ARCT exam. “Now I’m a level ahead of you…” she joked. Damn…I should have done ARCT as soon as I finished my grade 10 piano. She invited me for dinner with her and her friends…good times…I’m happy for her…
Monday, July 6, 2009
Divine Chaos (Part II)
The next day I received a phone call 2 minutes after I woke up, “Hey, Wolverine is your elbow healed yet??” I smirked, “Even Wolverine needs more than just a few days to heal connective tissues in the elbow.” “Well, get dressed we gotta pick the dude up from the airport in 2 hours.”
Me, my manager and my coach picked up the Las Vegas “Potential Sponsor” in a limousine. He had this rich man’s swagger. He had a shock of orangey blond stuck straight up from his ovoid head like a toy troll. His head was cocked upward; his smile seemed like a plastic snap-on attachment and his features were flattened as if pressed back by an invisible stocking. He was Hawkin Riggs. The people he brought with him looked rather cool compared to him and were well dressed.
As soon as we meet his face lights up and points at me, “So you’re the stud we are looking for!” With his scratchy voice...which sounded like it was weathered from years of late night partying, drinking and smoking. “The name is Hawkin Riggs,” he continued, “And you are the folks behind this aren’t cha.” He says to my coaches and manager. “Well, let’s see wutcha got!”
We got into the limo on the way to the gym, I tried to relax while I was in the limo…but I was already in that trance…the same one before every fight…the butterflies in your stomach…the nervousness…the adrenaline…I tune in and out of his conversations with my manager and coach, but from what I can comprehend during the adrenaline rush, was him talking about hookers, strippers and getting laid….typical rich Las Vegan or was vacuuming every little training detail that my coach had in his head.
We finally arrived at the gym. I went through my usual training routine….skipping….shadowboxing…going through the mitts with my coach and hitting the bags…nothing less than non stop display of intensity, speed, power and skill. He stood just outside the ring watching closely and talking quietly amongst his people…. I had to show that I was a superb technical boxer with beautiful balance, footwork and punching form…transforming drudgery into a spectacle…performing a genuine craftsman’s passion when done in earnest. During my sparring session, I fully extended my right arm on a right straight and heard a snap on my elbow…shit I reinjured it…I was in a world of pain but I couldn’t show it or slow down my workout in front of all these people and especially a potential sponsor…I looked up at the clock…I had 6 more rounds of sparring left to go and 3 sets of circuit training following it which translates into 50 more minutes to go…I smiled to myself…this will be a real test to my threshold for pain…
The final round of sparring ended, which concluded the blazing 3 hr workout. As I climbed out of the ring…exhausted, worn-out and with
He smiled, “I see greatness reflected not just in the mirror, but also in the potential of those around me today. That was worth my plane ticket already!”
He patted me on the back, “You got my support son.”
I left to wash up and get changed for dinner with him and his crew…leaving my manager and Hawkins yap away at sponsorship deals.
I grabbed my elbow…it was burning like a stove…I could feel my pulse on it. My coach walked in, “You did a hell of a job out there. I’m proud of ya kid!” and my sparring partners rushed in to congratulate me…even though they were all bruised and battered from sparring with me...but hearing the praise and admiration of others that you really care about…the feelings great.
I didn’t want Hawkins to wait too long for me to get ready for dinner. I just pulled on a nice pair of jeans and dress shirt. We took Hawkins and his crew to Celestin on Mount Pleasant for dinner. Here, we got a chance to get to know about one another. He liked to talk in circles around a point rather than getting directly to it. He was victim of the disease called thinking/talking too much. My head spun listening to him. Throughout the dinner, he talked all about himself and I can see that even his people whom he brought to Toronto with wanted him to shut up for a few minutes and give their ears a rest. It took me a while to get this guy but to me at least he seemed like he wanted to be the Wizard of Oz: the little guy behind the curtain, pulling the strings that made everyone around him think he was a big and powerful master of the realm. His conversations were just boasting about how many strippers and show girls in Vegas he’s been with and described in detail how he boned every single one of them. None of us were really interested. He’d check up on every girl that passed by. Girls thought he was a queer. I leaned over to my manager and asked, “I hope this guy is sponsoring us good to put up with his crap.” My manager nodded, “Don’t worry…its good!”
Anyway, dinner’s over I thought I’d bring him to a desert place….I was thinking Panorama. But he had other plans, “I wanna check out hot chicks in Toronto…” he said. My coach suggested he’d go visit a strip club and my manager whispered in my ear to just get him a prostitute so he can shut up and the rest of us can go home and stop hearing his annoying voice. He put his arm around me, “Let me bring you to a place to far beyond your imagination...its a place members only…you rewarded me with your training and dinner and now I’ll return the favour…come with me…” I called up Bonnie (real name withheld) who I met at an import show couple years ago and asked her if she wanted to come join me since she welcomed the idea of meet rich powerful people…I told her to bring her friends so she feels more comfortable.
Hawkins brought me into this ran-shackled place a block from the entertainment district…I don’t even know the name of the place…because we entered through an alleyway through the back door…but he seemed to know the management there. The interior was quite impressive…had the 18th century décor …guess that was the theme. Bonnie and her friends were sitting at the bar. Nearly every male including Hawkins was staring at them trying to muster up the courage to approach. There was a stage at the front…a girl wearing just feathered pasties and matching panties was dancing…somehow she looked too familiar. I could’ve sworn I’ve seen her somewhere. While, I was talking to Hawkins and his crew…I was at the same time remembering where I know that girl from. I took another glance at her again. I couldn’t believe it…it was Jill…it was too big of a shock for me. She was talking the other day about preserving her reputation and now she utterly tarnishing it. She reached under her legs and threw her panties into the audience. A flying herpes rag. A hipster with huge lips…the size of Jay-Z’s caught it. He crumpled it in his fist and thrust it into the air excitedly. His little venereal prize.
I was disgusted…I told the rest of the guys I usually sleep at 12ish and I’m in the middle of training camp…don’t want to destroy my sleep cycle…which was kind of true, yet it was an excuse to leave. I signaled to Bonnie to round up her friends and let’s get out of here. We went back uptown to Richmond Hill and just chilled for a bit.
I’ll fill you guys in on more details tomorrow…and finish up with it tomorrow…got to get some sleep.
To be continued…
Me, my manager and my coach picked up the Las Vegas “Potential Sponsor” in a limousine. He had this rich man’s swagger. He had a shock of orangey blond stuck straight up from his ovoid head like a toy troll. His head was cocked upward; his smile seemed like a plastic snap-on attachment and his features were flattened as if pressed back by an invisible stocking. He was Hawkin Riggs. The people he brought with him looked rather cool compared to him and were well dressed.
As soon as we meet his face lights up and points at me, “So you’re the stud we are looking for!” With his scratchy voice...which sounded like it was weathered from years of late night partying, drinking and smoking. “The name is Hawkin Riggs,” he continued, “And you are the folks behind this aren’t cha.” He says to my coaches and manager. “Well, let’s see wutcha got!”
We got into the limo on the way to the gym, I tried to relax while I was in the limo…but I was already in that trance…the same one before every fight…the butterflies in your stomach…the nervousness…the adrenaline…I tune in and out of his conversations with my manager and coach, but from what I can comprehend during the adrenaline rush, was him talking about hookers, strippers and getting laid….typical rich Las Vegan or was vacuuming every little training detail that my coach had in his head.
We finally arrived at the gym. I went through my usual training routine….skipping….shadowboxing…going through the mitts with my coach and hitting the bags…nothing less than non stop display of intensity, speed, power and skill. He stood just outside the ring watching closely and talking quietly amongst his people…. I had to show that I was a superb technical boxer with beautiful balance, footwork and punching form…transforming drudgery into a spectacle…performing a genuine craftsman’s passion when done in earnest. During my sparring session, I fully extended my right arm on a right straight and heard a snap on my elbow…shit I reinjured it…I was in a world of pain but I couldn’t show it or slow down my workout in front of all these people and especially a potential sponsor…I looked up at the clock…I had 6 more rounds of sparring left to go and 3 sets of circuit training following it which translates into 50 more minutes to go…I smiled to myself…this will be a real test to my threshold for pain…
The final round of sparring ended, which concluded the blazing 3 hr workout. As I climbed out of the ring…exhausted, worn-out and with
He smiled, “I see greatness reflected not just in the mirror, but also in the potential of those around me today. That was worth my plane ticket already!”
He patted me on the back, “You got my support son.”
I left to wash up and get changed for dinner with him and his crew…leaving my manager and Hawkins yap away at sponsorship deals.
I grabbed my elbow…it was burning like a stove…I could feel my pulse on it. My coach walked in, “You did a hell of a job out there. I’m proud of ya kid!” and my sparring partners rushed in to congratulate me…even though they were all bruised and battered from sparring with me...but hearing the praise and admiration of others that you really care about…the feelings great.
I didn’t want Hawkins to wait too long for me to get ready for dinner. I just pulled on a nice pair of jeans and dress shirt. We took Hawkins and his crew to Celestin on Mount Pleasant for dinner. Here, we got a chance to get to know about one another. He liked to talk in circles around a point rather than getting directly to it. He was victim of the disease called thinking/talking too much. My head spun listening to him. Throughout the dinner, he talked all about himself and I can see that even his people whom he brought to Toronto with wanted him to shut up for a few minutes and give their ears a rest. It took me a while to get this guy but to me at least he seemed like he wanted to be the Wizard of Oz: the little guy behind the curtain, pulling the strings that made everyone around him think he was a big and powerful master of the realm. His conversations were just boasting about how many strippers and show girls in Vegas he’s been with and described in detail how he boned every single one of them. None of us were really interested. He’d check up on every girl that passed by. Girls thought he was a queer. I leaned over to my manager and asked, “I hope this guy is sponsoring us good to put up with his crap.” My manager nodded, “Don’t worry…its good!”
Anyway, dinner’s over I thought I’d bring him to a desert place….I was thinking Panorama. But he had other plans, “I wanna check out hot chicks in Toronto…” he said. My coach suggested he’d go visit a strip club and my manager whispered in my ear to just get him a prostitute so he can shut up and the rest of us can go home and stop hearing his annoying voice. He put his arm around me, “Let me bring you to a place to far beyond your imagination...its a place members only…you rewarded me with your training and dinner and now I’ll return the favour…come with me…” I called up Bonnie (real name withheld) who I met at an import show couple years ago and asked her if she wanted to come join me since she welcomed the idea of meet rich powerful people…I told her to bring her friends so she feels more comfortable.
Hawkins brought me into this ran-shackled place a block from the entertainment district…I don’t even know the name of the place…because we entered through an alleyway through the back door…but he seemed to know the management there. The interior was quite impressive…had the 18th century décor …guess that was the theme. Bonnie and her friends were sitting at the bar. Nearly every male including Hawkins was staring at them trying to muster up the courage to approach. There was a stage at the front…a girl wearing just feathered pasties and matching panties was dancing…somehow she looked too familiar. I could’ve sworn I’ve seen her somewhere. While, I was talking to Hawkins and his crew…I was at the same time remembering where I know that girl from. I took another glance at her again. I couldn’t believe it…it was Jill…it was too big of a shock for me. She was talking the other day about preserving her reputation and now she utterly tarnishing it. She reached under her legs and threw her panties into the audience. A flying herpes rag. A hipster with huge lips…the size of Jay-Z’s caught it. He crumpled it in his fist and thrust it into the air excitedly. His little venereal prize.
I was disgusted…I told the rest of the guys I usually sleep at 12ish and I’m in the middle of training camp…don’t want to destroy my sleep cycle…which was kind of true, yet it was an excuse to leave. I signaled to Bonnie to round up her friends and let’s get out of here. We went back uptown to Richmond Hill and just chilled for a bit.
I’ll fill you guys in on more details tomorrow…and finish up with it tomorrow…got to get some sleep.
To be continued…
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Divine Chaos (Part I)
What a weird weekend it has been. The only thing that was normal was that I studied 6 hours this weekend…that’s about it…
A Las Vegas entertainment promotion company called up my manager and offered to sponsor my bout in Las Vegas this coming August. He was going to make his way up to Toronto this weekend to meet with me and my team personally and to I guess see if we are worth his money. My manager filled me in on the details Thursday…told me he a millionaire owns a large share of the Red Rock Hotel & Casino down in Las Vegas…and he told me that he’s visiting this weekend and he’ll watch me train in the gym, so maximum intensity and I better have my game face on. It’s kind of hard to accomplish that when I’m injured to the point where every time I can’t throw my right hand without a feeling of sharp pain coming from my elbow. I really needed sponsors and I wasn’t going to succumb to the pain. But me being pessimist, I thought all this was too good to be true….
My trainers and I agreed that it was a good idea to take the rest of the week off to recover and hopefully be able to perform and surpass his standards to sponsor us. If I perform at my best when I’m healthy, I know for a fact that he’d be impressed. So here I am with a month to go from my fight in Las Vegas, and its not that I’m that I’m not ready, but it’s the fact that I’m not even close and yet…I’m taking a week off. So I’d thought I’d call up some old friends and catch up with them, so I called up Jill (not her real name) who I had met while I was had a boxing tournament in Kansas City many, many moons ago…she was the ring girl holding up the signs displaying which round it was during the time I was in the ring (a.k.a. just some eye candy for the fight fans who are presumably male). I caught up with her at the after party and by the end of the night we walked out like we’ve known each other for decades. I called her up for to have a drink…non –alcoholic for me of course since I’m getting my body and mind primed for the fight. Me and her are really close…she’s attractive of course being a ring girl, it’s pretty much embedded in the job description and she very well-spoken with a fun character. Reputation bleeds on every word but we don’t take it that way when we talk amongst ourselves or any of our friends…that way, we are comfortable talking about literally anything…as usual, I listened most of the time as she spoke about her recent outbreak of herpes that she hadn’t told anyone yet but she’s very regretful about it (Hope she doesn’t read about it). She was worried how her friends and others would treat or judge her if they found out and how detrimental it would impact on her reputation. I reassured her that if someone feels that they have never made a mistake in their life, then it means they had never tried a new thing in their life. I was reminded of what my friend would tell me when I’m down…and I recited it back to her “Fall in love or fall in hate...get inspired or be depressed....Ace a test or flunk a class...make babies or make art...speak the truth or lie and cheat...dance on tables or sit in the corner...life is divine chaos...embrace it...forgive yourself...breathe...And enjoy the ride...” By the end of the night, she was returned as the happy, fun girl again…even saw a smile out of her…its good to have you back Jill!
The next day had lunch with Pat. He’s always a funny guy and bunch of good laughs and good food. That night I was lying in bed when I got a call from him…his voice was flat out monotone…”My father has pancreatic cancer, so he’s on his way out,” he said, “It’s strange, but the first person I decided to call was you.” When I asked him how he felt about it…which was kind of a retarded question. He replied, “I’m not upset, but my mom was crying and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her cry. Dad always wanted whiskey poured on his grave, so my brother said, ‘I just hope he doesn’t mind me filtering it through my bladder first.’ ” He laughed. I tried to force a chuckle out for his sake. The image of it wasn’t amusing to anyone who didn’t hate the guy.
Still more to come,
To be Continued...
A Las Vegas entertainment promotion company called up my manager and offered to sponsor my bout in Las Vegas this coming August. He was going to make his way up to Toronto this weekend to meet with me and my team personally and to I guess see if we are worth his money. My manager filled me in on the details Thursday…told me he a millionaire owns a large share of the Red Rock Hotel & Casino down in Las Vegas…and he told me that he’s visiting this weekend and he’ll watch me train in the gym, so maximum intensity and I better have my game face on. It’s kind of hard to accomplish that when I’m injured to the point where every time I can’t throw my right hand without a feeling of sharp pain coming from my elbow. I really needed sponsors and I wasn’t going to succumb to the pain. But me being pessimist, I thought all this was too good to be true….
My trainers and I agreed that it was a good idea to take the rest of the week off to recover and hopefully be able to perform and surpass his standards to sponsor us. If I perform at my best when I’m healthy, I know for a fact that he’d be impressed. So here I am with a month to go from my fight in Las Vegas, and its not that I’m that I’m not ready, but it’s the fact that I’m not even close and yet…I’m taking a week off. So I’d thought I’d call up some old friends and catch up with them, so I called up Jill (not her real name) who I had met while I was had a boxing tournament in Kansas City many, many moons ago…she was the ring girl holding up the signs displaying which round it was during the time I was in the ring (a.k.a. just some eye candy for the fight fans who are presumably male). I caught up with her at the after party and by the end of the night we walked out like we’ve known each other for decades. I called her up for to have a drink…non –alcoholic for me of course since I’m getting my body and mind primed for the fight. Me and her are really close…she’s attractive of course being a ring girl, it’s pretty much embedded in the job description and she very well-spoken with a fun character. Reputation bleeds on every word but we don’t take it that way when we talk amongst ourselves or any of our friends…that way, we are comfortable talking about literally anything…as usual, I listened most of the time as she spoke about her recent outbreak of herpes that she hadn’t told anyone yet but she’s very regretful about it (Hope she doesn’t read about it). She was worried how her friends and others would treat or judge her if they found out and how detrimental it would impact on her reputation. I reassured her that if someone feels that they have never made a mistake in their life, then it means they had never tried a new thing in their life. I was reminded of what my friend would tell me when I’m down…and I recited it back to her “Fall in love or fall in hate...get inspired or be depressed....Ace a test or flunk a class...make babies or make art...speak the truth or lie and cheat...dance on tables or sit in the corner...life is divine chaos...embrace it...forgive yourself...breathe...And enjoy the ride...” By the end of the night, she was returned as the happy, fun girl again…even saw a smile out of her…its good to have you back Jill!
The next day had lunch with Pat. He’s always a funny guy and bunch of good laughs and good food. That night I was lying in bed when I got a call from him…his voice was flat out monotone…”My father has pancreatic cancer, so he’s on his way out,” he said, “It’s strange, but the first person I decided to call was you.” When I asked him how he felt about it…which was kind of a retarded question. He replied, “I’m not upset, but my mom was crying and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her cry. Dad always wanted whiskey poured on his grave, so my brother said, ‘I just hope he doesn’t mind me filtering it through my bladder first.’ ” He laughed. I tried to force a chuckle out for his sake. The image of it wasn’t amusing to anyone who didn’t hate the guy.
Still more to come,
To be Continued...
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