A Few Thoughts on Learning Even When It Rankles
From a beginning boxer
Last winter, I was struggling with my boxing. Everything had been great when I was learning a basic complement of punches, and my first sparring sessions were exhilarating. Then I pulled a muscle that hurt so bad I couldn’t take a deep breath or lie on my back, ate way too much Mexican food while on vacation, and resumed boxing only to have my instructor cut me down with some criticism. As winter set in, I was at peak awkwardness, when some old guy at the gym decided to make it worse.
I’m usually alone in the boxing area on non-lesson days. I’m what Japanese describes as undō onchi (運動音痴), athletically tone deaf, so I need that alone time to stand in front of the mirror and coax each movement out of myself. Okay, this hand goes like this, rotate your foot like this, no not like that . . . and so on. In lessons, we had just been working on turning the upper body perpedicular to one’s opponent to present less of a target while plying motionless jabs. So there I was, in front of the mirror working it out, clumsy and slow, when this elderly guy strolls in and takes an interest in me.
“I’m in my seventies and I still box and kickbox,” he says, like he expects me to give him an award. “Show me how you punch,” he says. I’m too polite, so I play along, but only half-heartedly. I know these types. Everybody bows and scrapes for them at work and the women put up with their mansplaining, so they walk around pleased with themselves all the time. “No, no, no,” he says, “you gotta do it like this. Throw a punch at me.” We’re not supposed to do that outside of lessons, so I’m not very enthusiastic, which further encourages him. Eventually, he lets me go and starts doing wild spinning kicks at one of the heavy bags. Whoosh! Wham! Whoosh! Wham!
Man, this is not my day, I think as I move to the bag farthest from him. I position myself out of his line of sight and continue what I was doing before he decided to throw his expertise around, but he stops his kicks and moves to where he can see me, and then he stands and stares. This guy is not in the boxing club and we’ve never met before, but he thinks it’s cool to interrupt my training. He comes over to inform me I’m not doing it right. Not this, not that, not any of it. I extricate myself, suddenly aware of an overpowering desire to put in some time on the exercise bikes on the far side of the gym. The nerve of that guy!
As I cycled, I seethed and steamed, but I eventually realized that while he was rude, he wasn’t wrong. I did have problems with my stance. I did need to work on stepping in when I jab. I did need to rotate my back foot more when throwing a straight right. I could stand to work on switching to a southpaw stance. When I went back to the boxing area and that guy was (mercifully) gone, I worked on all these things and that day proved to be part of a pivotal time in my learning. Ever since, I’ve been lighter on my feet and landing more punches. Begrudgingly, I’d learned from the old coot.
This has been my attitude all along. I’m not in boxing to throw around any weight, to be handled with kid gloves, to show I’m some kind of tough guy who knows everything. I’m there to learn, to learn to box, and everyone I box with is better than I am, so I better listen. Criticism tends to wound, but every time I’m on the way to lessons, I tell myself to say thank you for all instruction, even for comments I may think are unfair, whether it comes from my trainers, fellow boxers, or random blowhards. Even annoying strangers can provide a learning occasion.
Then it happened again today. Here we go again, I thought, as another old guy approached. This guy, however, had the sense to preface his advice with a Japanese nicety along the lines of “It’s not my place to speak, but . . .” and he seemed genuinely interested in helping me rather than showing off his knowledge. He said he’s been boxing for 40 years and asked me to show him my jab. I did and it impressed him. Everyone seems to love my jab, but more on that in a later post. He also liked my straight right and left hook and said I have talent. He gave me a couple pointers and moved away to do his own thing.
I’ll give his pointers full consideration. While some ways of boxing may work better than others, there isn’t really one way to do everything and boxers display a variety of styles I was never aware of before. In his memoir Undisputed Truth, former world heavyweight champion Mike Tyson says boxing is about finding out what works for you. I’m figuring out what works for me, and along the way, I’m open to instruction, suggestions and criticism, even if it rankles at first.
Note: I wrote this for Medium.com. If you are reading this on another platform, it has been pirated. I quit the Medium Partner Program, so I’m not doing this for money. It is nice, however, to know someone’s reading, so please clap or comment to let me know somebody’s out there. Gladius adhuc lucet.
