Round 1

The round began with the customary "touching of the gloves," a gesture commonly interpreted by spectators as an indication of good will. Danny told me though that it's really a non-verbal way of saying, "I'm going to beat the devil out of you." Both of us started out tentatively. The Purse because he was still upset at the way the police officers handled him back at BBB and Bs; me because I wasn't aware of the alternatives.

After about 20 seconds of dancing around the ring, we finally started making contact. We each exchanged a few left jabs and we each threw rights that missed the mark completely. After what seemed about 45 minutes of this (but it was really more like 45 seconds), I got really, really, really, really lucky and landed a right into Percy's stomach. SQUUUAAASSSHHH. I recall thinking that this was like sticking your fist into a giant bowl of Jell-O. Surprisingly, this "attack" did only modest damage. More embarrassed than hurt, Percy became a bit more aggressive. At least verbally. He kept asking me if that was my best shot. At least that's what I *think* he was asking. It was hard to understand him with that mouthpiece.

But in amateur boxing, the amount of damage you impose is really irrelevant. In theory anyway. What matters is how many punches you land. In my opinion I was winning this fight (which I had already technically won at 7:45).

Anyway we danced around some more and after about another hour, the round ended. When I went back to my corner, Danny told me that I was ahead on points but that I just had to start being more assertive out there. He spilled cold water over my head and squirted some more into my mouth and told me I was "looking real good" which I couldn't imagine because my hair was all messed up and I was perspiring profusely.