Once I knew a welterweight who was punch drunk out of his skull. He was a transplanted Britisher with a timorous voice and the dispossessed mind of a lost child. His point of pride was his never quit temerity in the ring which he exhibited in a hundred fights. All day he'd repeat: "Got me self knocked down so many times got me a bottom like a bleedin' shock absorber."
They say fighters get the meanness beat out of 'em. That was true of this old bloke who I liked a lot. See, I've always had a soft spot for those who live near the edge of so called civility, especially for those with indomitable spirits and jabbing hearts who struggle life long to be champions of their own dignity.
I've seen fighters succeed. I've seen fighters fail. Over time I've seen so many winners and losers retire to their shambling lives, their minds and souls as old and punch drunk as the Englishman's. Pity, I suppose.
Poetry Pantry #392
11 hours ago