Remember

I remember my first boxing match. It was October 1996. In Lake Charles, Louisiana. I started out as a Welter Weight (148 lbs.). I was fast like lightning and fluent like a brand new washer. I fought a girl from Evander Holy Field Camp. We made history that night. It was the first time an all fight/bout card of “women” had happen. Sylvia Johnson was my opponent that night. She weighed in at 171 pounds. The contract was not to exceed 150 pounds. I fought anyway. Thirty-four seconds in the second round, I T.K.O.ed her.

I want to forget how half the meals I eat at G.C.F. are prepared. Dude, I see the lack of having good hygiene attributes of many. And let me tell you, we’re in trouble – so please say an extra prayer over your Chow Hall Tray.

I forget that people don’t have the same view on mannerism and consideration as I do. For instance, I give my person who shares a bunk bed with me the ultimate respect. I don’t entertain visitors. I’m quiet anyway, so that’s a plus. I move quietly in the morning or when they are sleeping. However, my one pet peeve… Do NOT talk over my head when I’m sleeping. It makes my butt hold want a Coca-Cola. I get soooo irritated being awoken with someone in my face talking. I get real ignant and anal. But 95% of all else, I’m good.

I remember (continued from earlier)… “Round One, jab right. Hooks to the body. I give Ms. Johnson.” Her reply… windmill, windmill, windmill. Taken aback, I look at my trainer like, what the hell. In that instance, one of those wild punches catches me on the saw… Dazed, I’m knocked out on the feet. I cover up, pivot to my right, regroup.

Then… I get mad… I push Sylvia down and commence to stomping her with my foot. The referee came and broke it up.

-Dwanda George