Real sparring just isn't the same as goofing around. At some point, I wanted to know what it was like to get hit. I found a guy who seemed big enough to hit hard, but not big enough to knock me out, at least not in one shot. We got in the ring, and before the bell rang I knew I had made a mistake. It was a competitive gym and I had judged him on sparring sessions with other experienced fighters. He looked twice as big standing in front of me. Fifteen seconds into the round I got clocked in the nose with a big right. My head snapped back and my coach called timeout to see if I was okay. He pretended to complain about a loose strap on my opponents headgear. I pretended I was okay and we resumed fighting. I felt I had to fight back so I let loose with both hands. As my opponent ducked, I caught him with a decent right hand. I was fighting savagely but the successful blow reminded me that we were supposed to be fighting at 70 percent. Worried that I was breaking the rules, I let up and began moving around the ring. Spectators yelled at me to jab. I did, with some success, but stopping to jab resulted in my getting hit a few more times, though not as hard as the first. Two minutes into the round I was completely out of gas. I managed to survive the rest and nearly threw up when it was over.
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