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#Post#: 1527--------------------------------------------------
A Puncher's Chance - Chapter 4 - Focus Lessons
By: RampageSports Date: May 22, 2015, 10:06 pm
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A Puncher's Chance - Chapter 4 - Focus Lessons
I was back a few minutes later, looking very monochromatic in
black bike shorts and simple gray tank top. The top was long,
and it hung down far enough to almost cover the shorts. I chose
it because it was loose and comfortable, and it allowed for easy
movement.
What my choice in footwear... or, in this case, legwear...
lacked in style it more than made up for in utility. Strapped
to my legs was a pair of plain black shin guards. My handwear
selection didn't have a lot of flair to it, either. Instead of
the usual fingerless fight gloves, I carried with me what look
like a pair of large, black, circular pillows... which is
basically what they were. The proper name for them was "focus
mitts," and they are a tool widely used in combat sport
training.
As soon as Brittany noticed my accessories, the dismay was clear
on her face.
"Awww," she whined.
"What?"
"I was looking forward to punching you in the face."
You see what I mean?
"Well, then you were going to be disappointed, either way," I
replied. "At least this way will be less painful for you."
"Uh, huh," she said incredulously.
The way the focus mitts work seems pretty simple. The person
with the mitts calls out a strike, and the fighter throws it.
As long as the mitts are put in the right places at the right
times, all is well, right?
Yeah... I thought so, too. Turns out, it's an art form for the
punchee, not just a exercise for the puncher. A fact I learned
the hard way.
On the first day Danni and Steph were off in Dragonland, I
showed up in the training area, ready to help out however I
could. And, much to the surprise of most of the women, I was
pretty good at it. I had advice to share, techniques to teach
and even ideas on how to shake up some of our established
workout routines. The ladies were impressed, and it didn't take
long for them to warm to my being there. By the end of the day,
I had established myself into the flow of things, and I was
feeling pretty good about myself. That was around the time I
noticed Tiffany Mulheron in one of the cages, holding the mitts
for Emma Watson. I walked over and asked Tiff to let me take a
shot at it.
Once again, I was impressive. If only in the spectacularity of
my failure.
Tiff immediately asked if I'd ever done it before. I admitted
that I hadn't, and Emma snickered.
I probably should have taken that as a hint.
I had been the puncher many times, so I understood the basics of
using the mitts. It starts with a numbered list of strikes.
One for the jab, two for the cross and so on. The list varies a
little from place to place, but the differences are usually
slight. The receiver... which is the formal name for the
punchee... calls out a number, then positions the mitt in the
proper place to receive the requested strike.
So, I called out "one" and positioned the mitt accordingly.
Emma threw a nice, crisp jab that hit the mitt dead center and
drove it straight back into my face.
I heard her laugh as I shook off the impact. I said, "Shut up,
Watson," then turned to Tiffany and asked her what I did wrong.
To her credit, she resisted the urge to say "everything," and
tried to straighten me out. She talked me through it a few
times, and... ten minutes later... I was able to receive Emma's
jab using only the mitt and not my head.
Now that I was an expert, I decided to try a combo. "One, two,"
I called out. The jab landed just like it was supposed to, but
I didn't allow any space to deal with the fact that Emma would
be stepping into the cross. This put her more than a foot
closer to me than when she'd started, which meant the punch was
going to stop somewhere behind me. I got the mitt out of the
way so Emma didn't rip my hand off and just managed to slip the
punch... her gloved fist whipping past the right side of my
face.
"Huh," I said, then turned back to Tiff for another lesson.
After I got my role in that combo squared away, I felt like I
was getting the hang of it. So, I decided to go one more step,
adding in the left hook. "One, two, three," I called.
Normally, the three punch combo was a jab, followed the cross,
and concluding with a left hook to the body. I positioned both
myself and the mitts accordingly. The jab worked out fine. Emma
and I coordinated perfectly on the cross. Then, I moved the
mitt down low to protect my side from the hook, and Emma punched
me directly in the face. She realized what was happening and
tried to pull the punch at the last second, but the force of the
blow combined with my total lack of preparedness to send me
reeling. I landed face down on the canvas, sprawled out like I
was dead.
From behind me, I heard Emma say, "Oh sh*t! I'm sorry!"
Both women hurried over to help me, but I managed to roll over
and sit up on my own. I spread my mitted hands out in from of
me and said, "What the hell was that?"
"Punches to the body end with 'b,'" Tiffany explained. "You
should have said '3b.'"
I nodded, recognizing that not checking how the RSI list was set
up was easily the stupidest mistake I'd made, so far.
I stood up, ripped the mitts from my hands and gave them back to
Tiffany.
"Take these f*cking things away from me before I kill myself," I
said.
That got Emma laughing again, which earned her another, "Shut
up, Watson," as I retreated to the safety of the other side of
the cage.
I stood and watched for a while, wondering how Tiffany made it
look so easy. The more I watched, the more determined I became.
The day had revealed to me that I enjoyed being here, involved
in the training process. I wanted to become a permanent part of
this. That meant figuring this mitt thing out.
Late that evening, Danni and Steph arrived after their
activities at Dragon's Den had concluded for the day. I gave
Danni just about enough time to settle in before I walked into
her office and put a pair of focus mitts on her desk.
"Teach me how to use these damn things," I said.
The tone of my voice told her everything she needed to know.
"Bad day?" she asked.
"Good day. Bad ending," I replied.
She eyed the mitts.
"You tried to use these?"
"I did, and I failed quite miserably."
"You realize there are maybe ten women in the building who know
how to use these, right?"
"Then I want to be number eleven."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're planning to get involved in training."
In typical Danni form, it was not a question. She knew what my
newfound interest was going to lead to.
"Yes," I said.
"Steph has things running pretty smoothly," she said
skeptically.
"You and Steph have things running pretty smoothly," I
corrected. "I'm not looking to get in the way. I just want
in."
A small smile spread across her face.
"I told you this was going to happen."
Not that long ago, Danni made a comment about fighting being in
my blood. She posited a theory that I wouldn't be able to stay
away from it for long.
"Maybe you were right," I said. "Maybe it's something else.
All I know is that I had fun today."
She nodded.
"I did hear good things about you," she said.
I fought off the impulse to say, "Who gives a sh*t what you
heard? Don't I own this place?" and chose a more circumspect
approach.
"Am I being reviewed?" I asked.
"No," she said patiently. "I'm just saying no one knew what to
make of you coming out onto the floor. In the end, I think they
had fun, too."
"Of course they did," I said as seriously as I could manage.
"Why wouldn't they?"
"Why, indeed," she said with a smile.
She studied me for a moment. I don't know exactly what she was
looking for, so I had no way of knowing if she found it.
"Okay," she said with a nod, "I get here too late when we're at
the Den, so we'll start Wednesday."
"Start?" I asked.
She got a pretty good laugh out of that, and then said, "You'll
see on Wednesday."
I didn't really get to see until Thursday. On Wednesday, we
started off with Danni as the puncher, as she guided me through
receiving each of the different strikes. No good. I learned a
little, but couldn't keep up when she turned up the speed.
Using me as the receiver prevented me from really seeing what
Danni was talking about. I needed to be able to just observe,
rather than actively being a part of the demonstration. So,
Danni found someone else to do the punching on Thursday, which
allowed her to take the mitts.
Guess who she came up with. Go ahead. Guess.
"You gotta be kidding me," I said, upon seeing Emma walk in with
Danni on that second day.
"That's not nice," Emma said, faking a pouty face. "I'm only
here to help."
"Yeah. You were such a big help the other day."
"I don't think that's fair," she said.
Then, that deceptive little smile of hers appeared as she added,
"After all, it's not my fault you looked like a doofus."
I looked at Danni and said sarcastically, "Really? This is the
best you could do?"
She looked back and forth between Emma and I, then shook her
head and said, "Let's go," to Emma as she motioned her into the
cage.
The two of them started out by slowly working through the jab,
the cross and then the hook. I was rigidly attentive, even
mimicking Danni's movements to get a little feel for it.
Then, Danni told Emma to let the combo fly at full speed, and my
focus went all to hell in a hurry.
"Ho-lee sh*t," I said involuntarily as I watched Emma's little
fists whip around like bullets. She finished the whole combo in
the blink of an eye, yet every strike landed with perfect
precision.
"Aww," Emma said as she reset herself. "You're making me
blush."
I smiled and shook my head.
"You're supposed to be watching me, stupid," Danni said.
"Yes, drill sergeant," I said, snapping to attention and giving
her a little salute.
She did not appear to be amused.
They had to run through it twice more before I managed to block
Emma out and watch Danni exclusively. But, when I did, I
immediately gained a whole new appreciation for the receiver's
role. Every movement Danni made was as fluid and precise as
Emma's. Not just her hands. Her feet and body positioning were
exact, as well.
All at once, I realized I had a lot to learn. And I didn't even
know the half of it.
Two weeks. Two friggin' weeks it took to get me trained on
using the mitts. I learned about feeding into the strikes. I
learned about footwork and ring movement. I learned about body
positioning and counter-movements.
I learned enough sh*t to fill an encyclopedia.
And don't even get me started on the shin guards.
Even then, I was no expert. At best, you could say I was
sufficiently competent. But, I kept at it, working with the
various fighters during the day, and Danni whenever we could in
the evenings.
Now, here I was... nearly five months later, and I had only
recently become truly comfortable with all of it.
Like I said, it's an art.
[hr]
Character Reference
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Richelle_100x120.jpg
Name: Richelle Winterfeld
Nickname(s):
Background: Owner of the RSI stable, former underground fighter
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Danni_100x120.jpg
Name: Danneel Harris
Nickname(s): Danni
Background: RSI stable leader, reigning DEF welterweight
champion
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Stephanie_100x120.jpg
Name: Stephanie McMahon
Nickname(s): Steph
Background: RSI's fighter development coordinator, reigning SCQ
super heavyweight champion
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Brittany_100x120.jpg
Name: Brittany Tacy
Nickname(s):
Background: FAC lightweight contender
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Emma_100x120.jpg
Name: Emma Watson
Nickname(s):
Background: Reigning FAC featherweight champion, training
partner and romantic partner of Tiffany Mulheron
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Tiffany_100x120.jpg
Name: Tiffany Mulheron
Nickname(s): Tiff
Background: Reigning ESL featherweight champion, training
partner and romantic partner of Emma Watson
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