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Mangler's Wrestling Stories

Mangler's Wrestling Stories

A series of stories written by myself (Mangler) and other authors. Most of these are reposts from my previous webpage, but there are some new stories as well. To easily navigate by author, simply click on the links below.



Comments on the stories are always appreciated.

Monday, January 25, 2021

My First Boxing Lesson

 

 

My First Boxing Lesson

by Gym Dude

There comes a time in your life when people around you start to slow down. If you’re smart, you see the signals and start doing something about it. I manage an auto parts store and spend entirely too much time behind a desk. Luckily for me, the guys who work for me are a lot younger and that keeps me going.

Since I woke up and got back into the gym, I’ve seen my weight gradually slide back to a fairly solid 212 pounds and while I still have a ways to go, at 6’1” I think I’m looking pretty damn good for an old man of 35. I still have to work on my upper body strength, but my legs are doing great. I’m already to the point where some of these young bucks call me to get the heavier boxes down. Sometimes I think we’re raising a generation of wimps!

A few months ago, I hired this kid fresh out of high school. Preston stands 5’ 11 ½” and weighs in at 175, soaking wet. The kid was shy and quiet, but as time passed and I taught him more about his work, he started showing some confidence and looked like he’d make a pretty good employee. So, one day, this kid plops down in the chair by my desk and says he wants to talk.

With all the stuff going on in the world, the kid is hell bent on joining the Army next spring! He knew I was an Army man and wanted to ask some questions. I was both surprised and proud and really got in touch with the feelings a dad must have when his kid wants to march off to war. I mean, I did it and if they’d have me, I’d do it again, so why do I feel like this when someone else wants to do it?

We talk for a while and I share my wisdom. The kid has thought this through and I can’t fault his feelings. I give him some advice on things to look out for and then share the one thing that no one told me, not that I would have listened anyhow. Basic Training is no walk in the park. Start training now and don’t let up. Build up your endurance and for God sakes, put some beef on that body. You’re going to need every ounce you can pack on. And by the way, it wouldn’t hurt to get in some self-defense training. The stronger and tougher you are, the less problem you’ll have in the military.

Like I said, Preston is one lean kid with no visible body fat. There’s not much of a chest, but that could be just the bad posture of being a kid. He reminds me a lot of myself before I joined up.

I add one more thing. I’ve been looking for a training partner, so if he’s interested, I’d be more than happy to train him. The kid’s serious face lights up and we work out a schedule.

With my help on nutrition and our four-a-week workouts, I have to admit that the kid is shaping up. He’s already showing some new beef across his shoulders and forearms. When he tackles some of the heavier parts boxes you can really see both definition and a new thickness in those arms. Some of the young bucks were arm wrestling the other day and I have to admit, Preston was holding his own against some of the bigger guys. The little horse is showing some strength.

It’s been a couple of months now and Preston is really progressing. He’s getting to the point that he can keep up with me in some basic upper-body lifts, but I blow away him (and most of the other guys in the gym) with leg power. We’re past the “get acquainted” stage and well on the way to some good hard training. Periodically, we experiment with different lifts and techniques to keep things fresh.

We’re both doing better than I expected and I have to admit I am starting to enjoy compliments from the other lifters about my new buff body. I don’t know if it comes from working out with these younger guys or not, but I have this driving desire to recapture my youth! I suppose it was only natural that one day we’d work our way to the ring.

Preston says he has played around with some boxing in the past. I have never done more than learning to use the speed bag and that was many years ago. So, I suggest maybe he can teach me a few things. The kid grins and jumps at the chance.

I wanted to put Preston at ease. “Listen kid, you’re up against a much bigger and stronger man, so I’m gonna take it easy on you. I want you to know that I’m not going to pound you, just because I can.”

“And I really appreciate that. Let’s get the gloves on and see what you got.” The kid replied with confidence.

Preston shows me how to wrap my hands, and I’m thinking I’ll never be able to get it down. We get laced up with a pair of ten-ounce gloves and put in mouth pieces. Damn, this is pretty elaborate just for sparring. Preston says “If you’re going to do something, do it right!”

We dance around and he’s teaching me some jabs. We start trading punches and step up the tempo. I think I’m coming along pretty good and out of nowhere the kid pops me with a couple of fast left jabs.

“Hey kid!” I shouted, “You’ve got a good left there. Just be careful you don’t get yourself in trouble with it.” Now, I’m not going to put up with this shit from him so I start putting a little more power in my jabs and finally he nails me with a solid right hand, between the eyes and across the bridge of my nose. There’s no real damage, but my eyes kind of crossed and started to water and my nose got a funny tingling sensation. I get a little more serious and have this burning desire to return the favor.

“Not bad. Not bad for a kid.” I pretend like he hadn’t hurt me, but I want to see him go down. I want it so much I can taste it. “You like to play rough, let’s see what happens when I take you down a few pegs. You’re gonna feel this tomorrow.” I started to open up on the kid.

The kid does a great job of blocking my best shots, he has much faster hands. Gradually I begin to back him up. Cutting off the ring, I maneuver Preston back into a corner until his back presses against the turn-buckle. That’s when I switch to the body.

“Alright, tough guy. You can dish it out. Let’s see how much you can take!” I put the kid on notice, but I have no desire to really hurt the kid, I just want to show some dominance. I am the man and he is the boy, and he needs to know his place. I have the size and power and even though he has a little more experience, my body should more than make the difference.

Just like the rest of his young body, Preston’s abs are lean and solid. Not a mass of conditioned muscle, but flat and nicely defined. You couldn’t tell if he worked them that hard or not, but I sure intended to. It was time to see what they were made of. I kind of got lost in the body work, slamming my best stuff against that flat, lean stomach. After nearly a full minute of my undivided attention, I got so involved I failed to notice I was taking no punches in return. This was my chance to make up for the rather convincing punches the kid had scored to my head. They always say if you kill the body the head will die and while I didn’t want to hurt my little buddy, I sure want to take him down.

Preston’s solid frame has been pinned to the ropes for at least two minutes, although it seemed like hours and my arms are getting heavy from the unobstructed punch party.

I finally realized what I was doing and felt really bad for pounding the crap out of this kid, I mean, I’m his trainer and buddy. I began to feel really guilty and knew I had crossed the line, but it felt so damn good!

I stepped back to allow the youngster to drop to the canvas, but he didn’t. Hmmmm, this guy is a lot tougher than I thought. I wonder if I dare drill him some more. I glanced up and was somewhat shocked to see a twinkle in his bright green eyes and a broad smile.

Preston was just standing there with his arms propped on the ropes. He was enjoying the sight of me delivering every ounce of power I had into his gut, but he acted like it didn’t even faze him. He knew I had gotten lost in the thrill of working another man’s body and he was kicking back letting me have my fun.

He calmly asked, “You about done there?” The kid’s voice was so relaxed; I knew that my best efforts had not hurt him at all! I was so stunned I didn’t even see him move before his left hand smashed into my face, rocking my world.

I lost count after the third solid jab. My defenses were useless as I staggered back to get some distance. Preston was too fast for me and before I knew what had happened it was my big body that was being guided back into the corner. I began to get the idea that this boy knew a great deal more about boxing than he let on.

By the time I began to come to my senses, the only thing I could see was a glimpse of red leather just a fraction of a second before another fist smashed into my face. I couldn’t even see where they were coming from. POW! POW! POW! POW! POW! POW! Fist after fist rained in on my head.

Shit! The kid is fast! I could feel a thick warm liquid begin flowing down into my eye. The kid is good and it looks like if I don’t find some way to stop him, he’s going to pay me back for my attempt to pound him.

About the time that I felt my back make solid contact with the cross-buckle, a big right hand ripped into my midsection with the force of a cannon. I had no idea that this slender kid packed a punch like that! It would be the first of many.

“My turn!” Preston put me on notice as I tried hard not to slump in the corner. In one smooth motion, the kid flipped my arms over the top ropes, a position they would stay in for a while.

A constant bombardment of fists opens cuts over both eyes. With my vision blurred by my own blood, the youngster pounds my head at will. The intense pounding slows as Preston begins picking his shots ensuring that I will stay on my feet but remain unable to launch any kind of attack or defense.

I’m finally able to pull my arms off the ropes and at least begin to put up a guard. It’s ineffective as hell as my eyes begin to swell shut and power shots seem to be coming from everywhere. When my guard goes up, the kid chuckles at my weak efforts then confidently says “How’s the lesson going, big man?” and starts working my body until my hands drop then he goes to the head again.

I am unable to stop the punishment as the kid moves in and begins to batter my shoulders and biceps. I can feel the kid breaking down my muscular arms, leaving me unable to protect myself. After just a few of Preston’s power shots I find my big arms are no longer able to deliver a punch and I can’t even raise my fists enough to guard my head.

Preston laughs at my plight, “OK big dude, you were gonna take me apart. Let’s see how you hold up in a real fight!” The kid then takes his time ripping incredible punches into my chest pulverizing my pecs and making damn sure there will be no risk of a surprise come-back.

It’s unbelievable, I find myself both physically and emotionally beaten! The kid is in total command of a much larger weightlifter. Preston drives in a few solid body shots and I slightly double over. The kid backs off allowing me to stagger forward. The young fighter steers me to the center of the ring taking shot after shot at my helpless body, but easing off the force of his punches so as not to knock me down or take me out to early.

“Yep, you’re looking pretty buff for an old man. Show me what those big muscles can do!” Preston loved giving me shit, then he takes his sweet time with half and quarter power shots up and down my big physique.

It must have been nearly five minutes since I’ve been able to deliver a single punch, not that my punches had any real effect on the iron-bodied young fighter anyhow.

I’m nearly out on my feet and ready to collapse as the kid shows off his total control of a much larger fighter using body punches to drive me helplessly into the ropes. Allowing the ropes to keep me up, the kid opens up using my head like a speed bag. Preston has proven he can easily put me away any time he wants, but he’s backing off, nailing me with quarter power punches. He knows I can’t hurt him, but he’s not done with me yet. The kid doesn’t want to knock me out, my lesson isn’t over yet.

Pounding my body with unobstructed half-power punches, the kid progressively destroys my once powerful frame before preparing for my final destruction.

Propping my jaw back with his head, my battered body is left wide open and defenseless. The kid can now pound away as hard and as long as he wants, and he does.

Preston was enjoying the body work as much or more than I had earlier. Punch after punch I can feel my muscular stomach buckle and fail under the unending barrage of powerful fists. The kid flexes his mighty arms, his young body working like the pistons of a giant steam engine, slamming home punch after punch with pile-driving force. The once rugged body of the big man hanging helplessly in the corner is forced to absorb every ounce of the kid’s youthful power.

Through all the pain, I could feel his fists sink deeper and deeper inside my body. I began to worry now only about my own survival.

At long last, finished with the total destruction of the big man before him, the kid backs off. I hung on the ropes for only a second or two, then collapsed unconscious to the canvas.

I was still in the ring when I woke up. I have no idea how long I was out, but Preston had his gloves off and was kneeling over me, slapping me around. He seems to enjoy it a little too much.

“Hey. How ya doin’ buddy?” he asked. He even looked a little concerned, although you could see he was pretty proud of himself for taking the big man down. “You hold up pretty good for an old man. Don’t worry about going down, it’s just your first lesson. You’ll get better, I’ll see to that. I’m here for you, man!”

Preston sounded so excited; I think he wants to start the next lesson right now! At the moment I’m feeling every one of my 35 years. I’ve learned I can take one hell of a beating but I’ve got a LOT more to learn about boxing.

You see, now I’ve got something to work for. I’m going to train my ass off and I’m gonna take this kid down.

3 comments:

  1. I love this story but rereading it after many years... I'm now 36, reading things like "I’m looking pretty damn good for an old man of 35" made me feel so old, lol.

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    Replies
    1. Yeah, just wait until 35 is barely seeable in the rear view mirror

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    2. LOL, so sad. But as long as I age well and with lots of muscles, I might be ok.

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