Dear Kid,
Continuing new experiences, I went to a boxing match last night.
And had a good time.
To be clear, it was Indiana University fraternity and sorority members fighting, the rounds fights were 3 one-minute rounds, and there was a lot of safety equipment. Even so, the medical team won most of the matches. Match called on account of excessive nose-bleeding and whatnot.
Coming in second was the charity the event was raising money for. We’re sure they talked about it because they had non-boxing people in the ring at one point, but it was far to noisy to tell what they were talking about.
The mobs (as mobs are wont to do) screamed for blood and victory (unclear in which order).
Pi decided she can represent her sorority in the fight next year. And before you ask, OF COURSE I’ll be here to watch her. I pointed out that perhaps trying to hit someone while they are trying to punch your face off might be a wee bit different than punching a heavy bag. She shrugged and said it was all about committing to the punch.
Pi in the ring. Lord Love a Duck. Fortunately, I have a year to get used to the idea.
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