The Glowing Edge

Tag: newbies

  • How to Know If Your Boxing Is Improving

    How to Know If Your Boxing Is Improving

    Coby and me sparring

    Sometimes after you get in the ring you want to debrief, talk with other boxers about how you did. So most nights after the team is finished sparring I’ll ask some of the newer boxers: “How did you do tonight?”

    And I’ve found that many of them have trouble answering in a way that satisfies themselves. They’ll say, “I didn’t do as well as I wanted,” but they have trouble defining it further. Or else there are so many things that need improvement that they’re overwhelmed by it all. I find myself thinking, and often saying, the same things.

    First, remember that it takes years to get any good at boxing.

    You can’t get in the ring for the first few months and do anything worth remembering. Really. Because you did pretty much everything wrong: your guard was down, your shots were sloppy, you telegraphed your every move, your feet were slow, you looked away, you had no cardio, and overall you looked about as sturdy as a newborn kitten in the path of a bulldozer. It was probably embarrassing to everyone who watched, but everybody starts there, period.

    A lot of kids come in and think it will go like it did when they first picked up a skateboard, or a basketball, or a frisbee. They messed around with it for a day or so and pretty quickly they could get in the game. Not so with boxing, which demands a baseline bit of skill but a fair amount of cardio and a wheelbarrow of guts just to get through your first rounds. And that’s after you’ve convinced a coach or trainer that you’ve paid enough dues in sweat to be allowed into the ring.

    The best way to know if your boxing is improving is to set small, clear, achievable goals.

    Here are a few examples.

    Tonight, I want to (pick two or three):

    • Keep my gloves up
    • Move my head more
    • Not square up with my opponent
    • Make it through 3 rounds without sucking for air
    • Throw more shots than I take
    • Maintain control of the ring
    • Not look away from my opponent
    • Throw a solid double jab
    • Move my feet more
    • Not get locked against the ropes
    • Throw both head and body shots
    • Get some power behind my right cross
    • Work on my inside game
    • Regularly slip or block punches
    • Throw three excellent left hooks in every round
    • Work on my uppercut
    • Keep my balance between my lead and rear foot
    • Commit to and fully extend my punches
    • Utilize my pivot
    • Finish each round strong
    • Score shots heavily in the last 30 seconds of each round
    • Land ___ shots per round (you’ll need a punch counter ringside)
    • Work on my  _______ (jab-hook-pivot, right cross – left hook, etc.) combination.

    Sometimes I even tell my opponent what, specifically, I’m going to work on.

    Yes, they’ll then be on the lookout for my left hook, but at least they understand that I’m going to throw a boatload of them, and I may even ask them to stop mid-round so that I can go through some slow-motion in order to tweak my form, or ask them why a particular move keeps falling short of power.

    Your trainer will pick good goals for you.

    Recently I was in the ring with a guy who was my same height, but every single time he threw his jab, he brought his glove back to his shoulder rather than his cheek or chin. So I had easy pickings on a right cross to his face, and was taking them on an intermittent but regular basis. But between rounds, my trainer told me to take every single one of those shots in the coming round. I wasn’t to let his jab return — ever — without shooting my right cross into his face. “And put a little more power behind it,” he told me.

    Midway through the next round my opponent realized, without anyone having to tell him, that he needed to work on one specific thing, which was getting his glove back in the correct position after a jab. He knew very clearly at the end of the night what had improved in his boxing!

    And I’ve been in his position plenty of times. If you don’t pick a goal, your opponent or trainer may pick one for you, and you’ll discover it the hard way!

    Sparring is your absolute best opportunity to learn and improve your boxing, so you want to focus on and optimize that time as well as you can. Choose a goal (or two) and make them your priority.

    You can even keep track of your goals in a notebook.

    I know I’m going to be in the ring every single Friday night, so sometimes I’ll write my goals on a post-it and stick it on my computer at work so I’ll be thinking about it in advance. Then, when I’m in the ring, I know what to work on. And I’ll also know, coming out of the ring, just how I did that night.

    You can’t work on everything all the time.

    But you can box on a baseline, and focus hard on a few choice skills or techniques, so that you’ll be able to see clear improvement over time.

    Stay strong. Train hard. And box smart.

    Photo of me sparring with Coby by Ken Hall Photography

  • Breaking in New Boxers (with an emphasis on the breaking)

    Breaking in New Boxers (with an emphasis on the breaking)

    When untried boxers get in the ring for the first time, it’s often a mess.

    At some gyms, little care is taken to see new people nurtured; they throw you in the deep end and see if you can swim. If you talk to many boxers you will hear trial-by-fire stories over and over again. An inattentive trainer allowed his bruisers to treat newcomers like tin cans, or worse, the trainer himself got in the ring with a fresh recruit to show off his superior strength and skills. It’s a backwards kind of tactic that actually seems to work sometimes: “See, if you take it like a man and keep coming back for more, eventually you too will get a turn to bully people in the ring.” And the unfortunate belief that boxing is all about brutality gets yet another toehold.

    Add to this the fact that when you are new to the ring, you simply don’t know what to expect. Typically you think you’re there to beat up or get beaten up, kill or be killed. Terror and determination combine like ammonia and bleach and the result is toxic. New fighters are known for wildly throwing every ounce of power they can scrape together as soon as they come out of the corner in the first round they ever spar. Add to this the fact that they usually don’t have jack for wind, and 30 seconds in they are gasping for air and looking around for a baseball bat to even up the odds. That isn’t always the case, of course. Sometimes they come in with a fury and the power to fuel it for a short burst of time.

    There is a stark dividing line for those who decide to try out the ring. If they are shepherded carefully through this first critical experience they may stick with it. But more fall away than stick, and much of that has to do with who is in charge at the gym.

    Our trainer is very good at bringing new boxers into the ring. Frequently she will get in with someone and allow them to box while she simply practices evasive maneuvers, letting them see how it feels to throw a punch before they learn what it feels like to take one. This actually often has the interesting side effect of bringing some humor into the ring. It’s like standing three feet from a basketball goal and throwing airball after airball; eventually you just laugh at how bad you are. She also runs most everyone who comes through the doors through rigorous conditioning for a few weeks before allowing them in the ring; this way they have at least a small start on the ability to breathe while under fire. And if it’s clear a newcomer has power and speed but just no experience, she will allow them in with a boxer from the team and let us to begin to school the new person as she coaches from the sidelines.

    Once in a while, it doesn’t go smoothly. Every boxer has a story, and most bring their issues into the ring with them. It can be a bumpy ride for a team who is regularly bringing in new people.

    We recently had a young man with tremendous promise and power but inconsistent performance roll in and quickly bust up our steady working routines like a bowling ball on the ninepins. In the few times he’s been here, I’ve seen him bring garbage into the ring, but I’ve also seen him box beautifully and with control once. He is not heavy but he is extremely strong and fast. We hadn’t seen him in weeks, and he sauntered in late and didn’t warm up with the team. Normally this means you don’t get to spar with the team, but sometimes our trainer tries to give the younger ones a break.

    The kid went in with a solid sparring partner who had a few pounds on him, a thought that should have kept him in check. But he barreled out of the corner and started slinging punches like sledgehammers, arms swinging wide and high but still somehow dropping in with shattering force. Our guy called him quietly to pull his power and settle in. Everybody heard but the kid, and suddenly a loaded jab popped the team member’s nose and we had blood. Our boxer shrugged it off, and our trainer called the kid down. No response. Blood dripped steadily and splattered all over the kid’s gloves as he punched. The experienced team boxer worked steadily, keeping his emotions and his power mostly in check, but the kid threw wildly, attacking with abandon. A heavy right cross hit above our man’s eye like a rock. Immediately a blood blister the size of a grape rose, and the third call-down went out. Nothing. By the end of the round the team member’s eye was dark purple and nearly swollen shut. The kid bounced crazily on his toes, and the next team member went in.

    This one is tall and has both reach and ability, but he had been feeling ill all day, and didn’t have the power in him to settle the kid. He made it through his round, ducked between the ropes, and strode quickly for the bathrooms to puke. He came back looking pale but less shaky.

    The third round was assigned to the best boxer on our team, and we all tightened against the ring like fish on a chum bucket. Bonnie gave our guy the nod and we knew he had permission to take the kid to school. The newbie looked a little warily at him, but then came those same punches. Our guy gave one warning. Then, in one of his favorite moves, he let the kid put him on the ropes and tire himself out with a flurry, then snap! — out came the hook like a cobra. The kid seemed a little surprised, but it didn’t put an end to the brawl. Our boxer calmly matched him hit for hit, snapping the kid’s head back a few times. It seemed to let a little air out of his tires, and I saw that tired look creep in. The rest of his round was sloppy, but a little less out of control.

    After that third round the kid came out of the ring and the rest of the team steadfastly ignored him as we worked through the rest of our sparring. I noticed that no one spoke to him or even looked in his direction until we’d run through our abdominal work-out and even wiped down the heavy bags. At the end of practice, all of the men on the team went over to talk with the kid (and not necessarily gently) about how the sparring went. He worked hard to claim that he had done nothing inappropriate, but they were having none of it and made it clear that he still had some work to do when it came to controlling himself in the ring. Our best boxer summed it up for him: “If you had been here to work, we would have worked with you,” he said. “You were warned several times. If you throw heat, you’re going to get heat back. Save your all-out for an actual fight.” He turned and walked off.

    Sparring with new boxers is always difficult. Some think that sparring is a time to bring all your power to every punch and show everyone how macho you are (girls do it too).  Some just don’t know how strong they are until they inadvertently give their partner a black eye or a bloody nose. And all of them are new. They don’t have the experience or the training to be able to control their punches very well, even if they try. Injuries happen more frequently in connection with newcomers than anyone else, and a team — as well as a newcomer —  has to be resigned to that. It’s a part of boxing and always will be.

    Image Credit: nicubunu on Flickr
  • Blood Happens (but I’m really sorry)

    Blood Happens (but I’m really sorry)

    Image by paperrocks a.k.a. evalinda
    Image by paperrocks a.k.a. evalinda

    It’s a major balancing act, bringing a new boxer into the ring. Especially if it’s a woman. Women who actually want to get in the ring are just such rare occurrences that when one comes around I keep my fingers crossed and do my absolute best to encourage rather than scare them away. However, blood happens.

    Yesterday I was warmed up and ready to spar when a woman I’d never seen before came up to me with a friendly smile and a warm greeting. I will admit, in advance, to my utter inability to carry on any sort of normal conversation, I was so floored:

    Newbie: Hi, are you Lisa?
    Me: Yeah.
    Newbie: Great, the coach says I’m gonna spar with you.
    Me: Oh! Cool. Um, I haven’t seen you around here before; been coming here long?
    Newbie: Nope, three weeks. By the way, the coach said I was just going to be on defense, so you get to beat up on me.
    Me: What?
    Newbie: Yeah, aren’t you the one who broke your rib?
    Me: Yeah, but…
    Newbie: Right. So you can be on offense, and I’ll just take your punches.
    Me: Oh. So you’ve boxed before, I guess.
    Newbie: No, this will be my first time!

    [protracted silence, while I try to get my brain to work out why she would sign up for this]

    Me: Do I understand correctly that you’ve never been in the ring before and Bonnie actually told you to get in the ring with me and let me box with you throwing NO punches??
    Newbie: Oh, no! I told her I wanted to do it and she said okay.
    Me: Are you crazy? Why would you want to do that?
    Newbie: Well, I’ve been coming here three weeks, and it’s a boxing gym, and I just figured, well, I’ll try it out!

    I had never heard that before in my life. I’m constantly trying to persuade women to give it a try in the ring. They rarely want to. And here’s a woman who not only wants to, but is actually telling me that she’s not going to throw a punch.

    No way would I go for that. Yes, I’m just healing up from an injury, but that’s just nuts, and I told her as much. We would box normally, and I told her I’d be very careful and control my punches and that she should throw whatever she could, although I did state a preference for head shots, since I’d never seen this woman box and I had no idea if she had the power to re-fracture my rib free of charge.

    In we went, and she did just fine. She was a southpaw and after we stepped on each other’s feet a few times she asked me if she should aim for my face, which cracked me up entirely. “Yes,” I encouraged, and tapped my headgear, “Come on, let’s do it.” After a bit she landed an easy jab. I was already prepared for the apology which poured out and both Bonnie and I said it in unison: “Don’t apologize! Box!” It did make me laugh again, though. I gave her some light jabs, and was actually enjoying myself when I landed a very pretty body shot to her stomach, only a touch. But she realized what had just happened, and sucked in her breath. “Wow, that could have hurt,” she noted. I nodded — body shots suck — and we continued to the second round. I started letting her feel some jabs, and several times put my goves up and leaned into her to let her work on me. The first time this confused her a bit, but Bonnie explained that I was giving her a chance to do some offense without having to think about taking a punch, and she accepted that.

    It was right at the end of our second round that she stepped smack into my straight right jab. She was wearing a face-saver with a bar across the nose, but it was a solid little pop. Her head rocked back, and I immediately swore to myself. I just lost another woman boxer, I thought.

    “Woo!” she cried; it was her first real hit and she knew it. I asked her if she needed a minute, or was okay to go on, and she blinked a few times and ducked back in. “Oh, thank God,” I thought, “she’s gonna be okay in the ring.” But a moment later she said “That made my nose run a little,” and my heart sank. I couldn’t see it yet, but I knew I’d bloodied her nose. We all deal with bloody noses and split lips; it’s just a part of boxing. But I’d hoped the face-saver would prevent it. She finished the round and Bonnie pulled off her headgear; we both knew what we’d find and Bonnie was ready with a paper towel. It wasn’t a big bleeder, but I figured I’d never see her in the ring again.

    But Bonnie is smart. She kept me in the ring and sent in Tim, an excellent boxer who brings out the best in me. “Give me real jabs,” I told him, and he delightfully obliged. Our newbie stood holding the paper towel to her nose and watched Tim and me work; she saw me get rocked a time or two and still keep going.

    But I don’t know if she’ll be back. I really hope she will.