Different boxing styles

  I've been ordered (by Dr. and coach, double-teamed) off of fighting/sparring/contact in order to properly heal up a serious injury since March, so I've been away from writing about boxing too. But this week I have made my glorious return to the ring, hence my return to the blog!

  Rather than go into lengths about my rough return, my lack of fitness, I'm focusing on my eventual return to fighting, and what awaits me there. While every boxer has their own qualities and brings something different to the ring, generally every boxer falls into a boxing style, or a mish-mash of one or two of them. I'm going to go a bit into each of them, advantages and disadvantages and what to do when you face one.

  The Puncher: This fighter is strong and puts combinations together well. They are usually very well-conditioned, so expecting them to "punch themselves out" won't usually happen, they'll go the full fight, but they generally lack defense. The best way to beat a puncher is timing, time their attack, use counter-punching, make them feel it every time they move in for an attack against you. Don't stand in front of them, use angles and slips to avoid punches and create your own attack. "Out-pointing" rather than simply trying to hit them as hard as they hit you, using speed to not only beat them to the punch but get your hands back to your face to avoid getting hit, and always, always, always defense after a combination are all effective tools against a puncher.

  The Runner: This is a common amateur style, especially among tall fighters. They use long strides and quick "pitter-patter" punches to keep a shorter fighter out. A runner usually has the advantage because they can see when their opponent is going to attack, and therefore try to get out of the way or the attack and hit their opponent as they move off, building a large point gap (Important in amateur fights). However, because they are generally on the move and their feet aren't planted firmly, their attack is not strong and won't stop an opponent from coming after them. As I'm usually the shorter fighter, I've gained a lot of experience against movers in the past year, and have gone from spending entire fights frustrated that this fighter won't stand and box ("Don't engage with her!" "Keep running!" are common phrases I've heard for entire fights), to actually enjoying facing them, honing my inside-game into a serious weapon. Keep your head moving and your hands up while you move in against a runner is the first rule. Learning to cut the ring off with precision movement, forcing them in a corner or on the ropes and working when you get inside is a huge step towards beating a runner. This means being patient, always looking for your time to get in, and training to make your attack quick so they don't have a chance to run away.

  The Brawler: Messy, tricky, dirty, frustrating - all words to describe a brawler, but "effective" is another one, especially if they are experienced. Brawlers rely on stamina and trickery to help them win, they tie up their opponents, push them off balance, punch in the back of the head or body, wrestle to wear them out. Their punches won't generally hurt or land cleanly, but they wear the other fighting down through constant engagement, zapping their opponent's energy and not allowing them to get clean combinations off. A brawler who knows what they are doing can be dangerous, actually causing as much damage to an opponent through wrestling as through punches. They are frustrating to fight because often in the ring you will be the better boxer, more technical, but it's their tactical game that will beat you. My first advice when facing a brawler is simple - do not expect the ref to help. Yes, they may be punching you in the back of the head; yes, they may be pushing you down any time you weave; yes, they may be wrapping up your one arm and punching you while you try to get free - and all these things are illegal, but if the ref isn't calling it, there's nothing you can do except keep boxing. Looking at the ref and getting frustrated will only waste energy. Small steps as a brawler moves at you will help maintain distance so they can't wrap you up, especially dangerous when mixed with counter-punching. Don't fight against a brawler when they tie you up, try to continue to work as cleanly as possibly until a ref separates you. A quick, stiff jab is an excellent tool to keep a brawler from getting a chance to build an attack.

  The Counter-Puncher: This style is truly one of the toughest to learn. It relies on timing, strong defense and speed. A counter-puncher does their best to avoid getting punched, while at the same time hitting their opponent - truly the height of the sweet science! While the premise is simple, the execution and process of learning this style is anything but. Seeing punches coming, slipping, blocking, moving away from an attack and then hitting an opponent in between their punches or immediately after is incredibly effective when in the ring; it frustrates and confuses the opponent because they often don't see the punch before it hits them - a common phrased uttered by knocked-out boxers is "I didn't even see the punch!" However, a common negative thrown at counter-punchers is that they don't create enough. Since they work off the attack of their opponent, it's not generally classified as an "aggressive" style and many judges are lax in awarding points for it. The best way to beat a counter-puncher is through volume and using a mix of punches. Don't give them a chance to catch their bearings and time your attack, the more punches you put into your attack, the harder it becomes for them to avoid. Mix up your punches - coming in with jab, straight, hook is not going to confuse any good counter-puncher, they'll make you pay. However, but being a little unconventional, especially by including body punching, you keep a counter-puncher from being able to use "automatic" defense, they'll have to work harder to avoid punches and will have a more difficult time coming back with their own attack.

  The Boxer: Of coarse, this is the ultimate style and the one that every boxer thinks they are, despite how far they are from the truth. A boxer really combines all the above styles, they need to not only be able to do a little of everything, but more importantly - they need to know when to do it. The combination of puncher/over/counter-puncher, with the ability to rough things up when they need to, there's nothing like watching a pure boxer, and it's difficult to beat. A true boxer has the ability to control a fight through technique and tactics, and through controlling the mental game of their opponent. They have excellent defense, precise movement, and are ready to answer any punches their opponent throws with combinations of their own. The best way to beat a true "Boxer" is to be good, really good, at whatever you do. An experienced "Puncher" or "Brawler" has a good chance to out-work or hurt a boxer, and good "Runner" can frustrate and keep a boxer from getting into their comfort zone.

  In case you're wondering, my natural style is a "Brawler", but because my coach Horace Hunter is an incredibly gifted "Counter-Puncher", that's the style he's tried his best to mix in with what I bring to the table. My skills as a pure "Boxer" have come a long way since I started, it's definitely a goal of mine to continue down that road, gaining more experience with my movement and teaching myself to be a bit more of a puncher. There honestly no one best style, it really is what works for each individual. It's about learning, crafting and gaining confidence in whatever style suits you best. The greatest thing about the sport of boxing is that you will never finish learning about it.

Dealing With An Imperfect System

  Losing a fight and being legitimately beaten by a better opponent is one thing. But being robbed by the judges in the final of Provincial Championships is a whole other matter all together. It's common knowledge within amateur boxing (Professional as well for that matter) that it is a sport ruled by politics and human judgement, but it doesn't make it easier to deal with when you're at the losing end of a decision.

  I took some time to write this blog because at first I was just too angry and frustrated. I wanted to rehash the whole fight, re-live each round, explain my strategies and how they were better than my opponent's, but I realized it was pointless. I had won a tournament late in 2012 which set me as #1 seed going into Provincials, with the rule that I had to be beaten twice if I was in a final, after the fight was over I was informed that rule had been taken out and they had failed to inform me prior to the fight, but had managed to let my opponent know. I spent the next three days after the fight raging at the Powers-That-Be in Ontario Boxing until I realized I had two choices: Quit boxing, refusing to be part of such a corrupt sport (it definitely crossed my mind more than once); or move on. End. There were no other choices. 

  So I've moved on. But it doesn't mean it was easy. How does a competitor get over a fight they know they deserved to win but didn't? First off - understand you were never meant to win. All the signs pointed that way from before the fight started. My opponent came from a club with a long history, had a coach that was on the National team as an amateur fighter and now helped coach the team. I came from a club that opened up two months before the fight. From after the first round my coach told me "they aren't scoring for you", I knew that meant going back out and fighting my heart out, but not expecting my hand to be raised at the end. Second - be sure of yourself. I threw great combinations. I slipped punches and answered with ones of my own. I boxed cleanly when my opponent wrestled and grappled. Even if the judges didn't want to admit it, I knew I was the better boxer that day. Third - take some time off afterwards. Part of it is a mental break to remember what you love about the sport, not just think of the wins or losses, part of it is a physical break. For myself it means healing up injuries I've been fighting on since November, waiting until the Dr. and my coach say I'm fully healed, not simply rushing back because I miss being in the gym. 

  I'm running and doing hot yoga every day to stay healthy and active but I'm doing something else. I'm in the boxing gym every day, helping my coach train the young guys for about an hour and on sparring days I watch and try to help my boyfriend train for his first professional fight in almost two years. So I'm keeping myself around boxing even though I'm not allowed to participate. I'm watching the young fighters progress, help them overcome mental battles or tune-up before their next fight, I'm learning the fine-tuning of coaching without overloading a fighter. I'm using my limited experience to let them know what will be ahead for them if they stick with boxing. Forget about the wins and losses, concentrate on improved performances. Don't worry about what your opponent is going to do because you can't change that, but you can change yourself from round to round. I've seen my boyfriend struggle with the lasting effects of a long-term injury but work to overcome it because what he's set himself a goal of fighting again. I will come back refreshed and mentally stronger, more sure of my abilities and ready to face my opponents across from me in the ring and the ones sitting on the outside pushing buttons.

Fighting at 70%... or less

  I didn't win my fight on the weekend. I'm disappointed but not that upset. I was fighting sickness for a few weeks leading up to the fight, normally something that would have made us post-pone it to a later date, but since I needed one fight before Provincial Championships at the beginning of March, we decided to go through with it and just see how I could perform.

  I slept all day Saturday leading up to the 6 p.m. weigh-ins, trying to recoup as much energy as I possibly could. The fights started at 8 and as my opponent had a long drive home after and it was snowing, they moved us from the 7th bout on the card to the 2nd. I know some people prefer to be early on fight cards, get the fight over and done, not too much time to over-think and then psyche themselves out, but I like being later on a card. I use the time to shut the world out, concentrate on myself, get in touch with how my body is feeling and map out a fight plan accordingly. This time I obviously wouldn't have a chance to do that, so I adjusted. I scarfed down a peanut butter sandwich, let it settle for half an hour, then began my warm-up.

  As I skipped and started shadowboxing, I could feel my body was not at 100% and I communicated this to Horace as we started doing some pads to sharpen the muscles. He adjusted the warm-up accordingly and went over how to fight when your body isn't feeling the best. For any competitive athlete, it's a truth we all have to get used to - your body can not feel 100% every time you compete. So if this is simply a fact that one must accept, it means adjusting your performance and your mental state to be ready for this once the bell rings. Just because my body wasn't at it's peak, didn't mean my mind couldn't be. I was up against a boxer with almost three times as many fights as me, she knew how I boxed (I had beaten a teammate of hers 4 times previously, so I'm known pretty well in that gym), and she probably was feeling 100%. I walked into the ring aware of these factors but then difference was that they were all dwarfed by something bigger - I knew I was the better boxer. End. My defense, my timing and my brain could make a difference in this fight, the only unknown was how my body would hold up.

  The first round I realized it was going to be a rough fight, she was someone who wasn't going to let me box, she was going to push and clinch at every engagement, try to brawl rather than box. Annoying, frustrating, but a smart plan against a boxer. I went back after the first round already drained and there were still three rounds to go. The second round was more of her pushing, holding, the ref stopping us and warning her and me just trying to figure out how to control the fight without burning out. The third round I started to figure things out much more, using my jab then slipping and counter-punching her when she tried to come in a grab me. I started stepping around her and kept punching when she would grab me. As I started boxing better she started fighting dirtier, wrestling, elbowing, shoving me away with force. By the fourth round I was completely out of energy but used my timing to box smarter. I had seen her pattern and started using it to my advantage, missing her punches but hitting her cleanly. She stopped wanting to come in. This is when I should have picked it up, started pushing the fight a lot more. I could hear Horace yelling at me to step at her and press the fight, but my body just couldn't do it. The ref warned her twice more for wrestling and pushing my head down, I thought she was finally getting a point taken off but he instead just warned her corner to be quiet (note to fighters *never rely on the ref*). The final bell rang and I went back to my corner. We knew it was close but Horace was confidant I had pulled off the victory. He was probably more upset than me when they announced her as the winner. I knew I was the better boxer, she had just shown her experience by stifling me and throwing more punches.

  So that leaves me a week out from Provincials. Not happy with the fight because I know she's an opponent I can beat but wasn't able to on that day, but understanding the circumstances is a huge part of boxing. Things can be off any day you compete, do you get down on yourself, hold on to the loss, or do you move on and train harder so the next time you fight, there's a better chance you'll be "on"? I chose the latter. I was back in training on Monday, working hard this whole week, have three hard sparring sessions to push myself and train for fight pace, making sure my energy is peaking by my next fight. Oh, and I'll be looking for a rematch from this fight as soon as I can.

Getting ready to fight

  I have a fight on a club show this coming Saturday, a tune-up bout before Ontario Open Championships two weeks later. After taking a winter break, I threw myself back into full training to get back into fighting shape in time for this fight. A full training camp for me involves:

-Running 4 times a week, including sprints and stairs
-Boxing 6 times a week, pads and heavy bag work each day
-Sparring 2-3 sessions a week, building intensity towards fight-pace
-Hot yoga 2-3 times a week for sweating out acid build-up in muscles and stretching those tight muscles

  But as I get closer to the fight, training changes up a bit. The idea of a training camp is to peak, be at your strongest and quickest around a week before the fight and use those last few days simply to stay sharp and recharge to be at full energy for the actual fight. This schedule has taken a while to figure out, but between my coach knowing the general structure of training camps and me listening to my body and adjusting things to fit my own needs and past performances, we've gotten a really good system figured out. It still gets adjusted for each fight, depending on my health, schedule, weight, etc. This week's training has looked more like this:

-Running 3 times a week, nothing past Wednesday. No stairs, sprints kept to very beginning of week.
-Boxing 4 days, to finish on Thursday. Session are kept shorter, focus on sweating, not hitting hard.
-Sparring 1 session, kept close to the beginning of the week.
-Hot yoga 2-3 times still, last class on Thursday. This keeps my weight down and my body limber.

  All weights are taken out of training the last week. The focus is to keep the muscles fast rather than strong. The weeks in the training camp are for building the muscles, making them as strong as possible, the last few days are simply to keep reminding the muscle what it's meant to do, muscle-memory at it's finest.

  The last two days are spent doing the training that some fighters have the hardest time with - rest, rest, and more rest. For the last several weeks you've been working as hard as you can almost every day and now suddenly you stop. For myself, this doesn't just mean not going to the gym, but actively working on rest - putting aside the desire to run all errands that could be run with sudden "free time" I don't normally have, to cook up a few meals for myself and my boyfriend, to visits friends, but that defeats the purpose. Rest means sleeping as much as possible to re-charge the body, and if sleep isn't possible, laying down and reading or watching a movie. Anything to keep the body still and, if you're like me, to keep your mind off all the food and liquids I can't have until after weigh-ins! I personally avoid thinking about the actual fight too much, or if I do it's more about what I know, at what I'm good at, at what my body is ready to perform. I don't think about my opponent, because that's just a bunch of "what-ifs", anything can happen in ring, and it's up to me to adapt and adjust. That can be the difference between the win and the loss - how quickly one fighter can adjust. And that's a lot easier to do when you are rested and sharp.

First fight excitement

  There's a big amateur tournament here in Ontario this weekend, Brampton Cup. It's mostly a Novice tournament and many boxers in Ontario have their first fights there. I had my 2nd fight there two years ago and two of my teammates made their debuts on the same weekend. This year Gideon Boxing has officially entered it's own boxers for the first time ever and we have 5 guys scheduled to fight, including 2 having their first bouts. When driving one of the young guys making their debuts home last night, he was asking questions and describing how he was feeling in the last few days leading up to the tournament, it's gotten me reminiscing about my own first fight.

  I remember the training leading up to the fight better than the actual fight. Horace had confirmed a bout for me 3 weeks in advance and my already-serious training got kicked up a notch. I remember morning hill runs had an extra intensity, sparring was more focused, getting instruction from my coach while doing pads was the highlight of every day. Every moment of training my head was a jumble of thoughts. Was I good enough? Would I be ready for the pressure of an audience watching me? Could I handle the pressure of another human being trying their best to knock me out? The night before the fight I went to watch the first installment of Harry Potter 7 and ended up talking to Horace on the phone for half the movie (outside in the hall, don't worry) about everything I was feeling and having him calm me down and focus on how much I COULD do, how much I HAVE done, not about the what-ifs.

  My first fight involved everything an amateur show is known for: a 6-hour drive to Sudbury, poorly communicated details like weight of the two boxers forcing me to drop 3 pounds the day of the fight, sitting around waiting for the late doctor - all things that greatly stressed a detail-oriented person like myself. It only took me a fight or two to realize this was actually the "norm", I'd better get used to it if I planned on sticking around this sport.

  Going through a proper warm-up for the first time was a clarifying moment. It was just Horace and me in a small closet, he put my wraps and gloves on for me, and held the pads for me to hit. Sharp, quick, no power, simply going through the motions and reminding my body and my head all the things I had learned over the past couple of months. I had no idea what the other girl across the ring would be coming with, but I knew what I could do, and that's what mattered. Every eye watched me as we walked towards the ring, and as the  MC announced my opponent and then myself, I realized she was from the area, I was the "big-city" girl who they automatically wanted to lose. It didn't matter, I was already determined to make the decision indisputable. From the very first bell I put everything I had into every punch (mistake!). I walked back after the first round thinking I had never been more tired in my entire life, how was I supposed to do two more rounds of this?! Horace gave me calming advice ("deep breathe", "relax") and had me focus on important details and block out everything else. The second round I was more calm, I remember giving her a bloody nose, a standing-eight count (the ref steps in to give one boxer a momentary break when they get hurt or seem overwhelmed), the third round started with my opponent being checked by the doctor to make sure she could continue boxing. When the final bell rang I ran over to Horace and he gave me a giant hug over the ropes. I knew I had won but that wasn't important. I had accomplished something I never thought possible, in fact had distinctly said I would never do - I stood in a ring and went toe-to-toe with another trained boxer and held my own, a feat the majority of people would never accomplish.

  After receiving my medal and exchanging hugs and handshakes with the opposing corner, I remember walking back to Horace with a huge smile on my face and saying "I want to do this again - immediately". His response "let's take your headgear off from this fight first". I was hooked. I'm pretty sure we discussed every detail of my fight on the 6-hour return drive (with a quick stop at the celebratory McDonalds) despite the fight pretty much being a blur in my head. If you asked me what punches I threw, how my movement was, if my defense was all I hoped, I couldn't tell you. What I remember most from that night was the raw emotion and excitement that drove me forward, the adrenaline pumping through me after, the pride I had from strangers congratulating me and telling me what a great fight it was. These same emotions still go through me before and after every fight. I focus on them when I'm in a moment of doubt or low-confidence. Win or lose, I have the courage to do something most people don't, I love that feeling and the drive it gives me life. Boxing isn't for everyone, fighting definitely isn't for most, but I truly believe everyone can find that one thing in life that gives them these same emotions. At least I hope so, because it's the greatest feeling in the world.

Running in Canadian winters... sigh

  I woke up this morning after a Sunday "Rest Day" ready to go for a nice 5-km run to loosen up and start my week out right and was faced with 4 inches of snow that had come down through the night and now had freezing rain coming down to just finish it off. Lovely.

  Running outside is off today, at least for now. I am pretty stubborn and tempted to just throw my running stuff on and try to beat the elements, but I know better (and it only took me two years of training to learn!). The sidewalks are currently covered in a melting 2 inches of thick heavy snow, hidden patches of ice are lurking underneath and a slow steady rain is coming down. With just under three weeks to go before my next fight there is no point risking injury and sickness just to get in one run. Plus I can always wait it out and see if the sidewalks are cleared by tonight and run after training.

  Normally I run 4-5 times a week, almost always outside. While some boxers love their long winding 15-km runs each day, after getting some excellent advice from a world-class boxer, my runs have been narrowed down to two 5 km runs a week at a comfortable pace, a shorter run that ends with forwards and backwards sprints, and one run with hill-sprints or stairs in the middle. These are sufficient for keeping my weight in check, working my cardio and also building the explosive fast-twitch muscles that are so important in a fight. Since I live in Canada and I HATE being cold, I do all these runs in about 14 layers of clothing with basically only my eyes exposed to the elements when I'm out there. I look insane, I can accept this. The only time I look more insane is when I run with Horace... and he is dressed exactly the same (right down to matching running jackets). We have gotten quite used to people stopping whatever they are doing to watch us run by or jump off the sidewalk in fear as we sprint past. Getting used to all the layers takes a while but once you're used to it, boxing in simply a tanktop and shorts is great, your body recovers really well between rounds.

  When I started boxing, running was the last thing to be added. I hated running, and I mean HATED it. I grew up with very little sports in my life and now I'm being asked to strap some shoes on and go outside in all kinds of weather to be alone with just the road and my thoughts for 40 minutes every day? This was worse than torture to me. But when my coach explained how necessary boxing was to fighting, I knew there was no way around it, if I wanted to box seriously it had to happen. I started out slowly, 2-km runs with just "normal" running clothes, music blasting in my ears to keep me distracted from how much pain my knees were in. After getting my body accustomed to a better pace, more layers and adding orthotics, I graduated to "Horace's running buddy". This meant 8 am runs for longer distances, repeat sets of hills, explosive track runs and constantly trying to keep up with a man who has been running regularly for the most part of his life. But before long I noticed something - I would actually look forward to it! Once my work schedule changed, running by myself became more of a necessity. Waking up at 6:30 to head out on my own was refreshing. Music was abandoned, it was was now down to my feet, nature, and my own thoughts out there day after day. I love it. The fact that today my run has eluded me is frustrating. I sit here at my desk with a bag of running clothes staring at me and I feel lazy. Old man winter has done his best to thwart me, but I'm ready. After my boxing training tonight the layers are going on and I'm doing stair sprints in my apartment building.   There's no substitute for running outside. Treadmills cannot replicate the conditioning running outside with fresh air, mixed terrains and natural inclines. But it also means being adaptable, especially in Canada where the weather is completely unpredictable. For instance, Wednesday is set to hit a high of 10 degrees and by Friday it will drop back down to -14. So this means planning accordingly, get my running in every day it's deemed nice enough to do so, can't have any "I just don't feel like it" days. Because you never know when you'll wake up to a surprise 4 inches of snow.



P.S. - That run just became non-negotiable after finishing a piece of cake a co-worker brought in for my birthday. Damn it.

Fighting As An Underdog

  I'm a very active boxer, I fight quite frequently, especially for a female. This is for a few reasons:

One - I came into this game late(r) in life. I was 26 when I decided to start boxing, had my first fight right before my 27th birthday, compared to many people who start boxing in their early teens, so if I want to accomplish anything in this sport, I would need to be quite active.
Two - my style matches up much better with more experienced/skilled boxers than beginners, who generally tend to brawl and scrap.
Three - I love competing. Training just for the sake of training and being fit is great, but I am someone who gets strongly motivated when I know there's competition involved.

  So that's brought me to having 23 fights in two years, which I'm very happy with, but it's lead to some tough obstacles as well. Amateur boxing in Ontario has rules and guidelines set out to protect boxers and keep the focus on safety and well-being. Categories are class as "Sub-Novice (1-5 fights)", "Novice (5-10 fights)", and "Open Class (11+ fights)". This means that a boxer classified as Sub-Novice or Novice are only allowed to fight other boxers with a 7-fight difference, so someone with 1 fight cannot have a sanctioned bout against someone with 10 fights. However, this all changes once you hit 11 fights and enter Open Class. This literally means "Open", open to anyone and everyone (You also take a step up in the length of the bout - men go from 2 minute rounds to 3 minute; females go from 3 rounds to 4). So this means someone with 11 fights could face someone with 110 fights - which is exactly what happened to me in my first Open Class fight at Ontario Championships.

  So how does one go into a bout when they know they are generally so clearly outmatched? I was up against a 4-time National champ, 3-time Pan-Am Gold winner, and this was my first step up to 4 rounds and the biggest stage I had faced to-date. I thought about dropping out of the tournament. I knew I wasn't going to beat her, so what was the point? Not only did I not grow up in sport, but I grew up in a home where individual success was not encouraged or rewarded, so self-confidence is something I struggle with daily.  This is why coaches exist. Not simply to teach the techniques and tactics of a sport, but to be that outside voice of reason, encouragement and support. Coach Horace Hunter gave me one of my first "stern" talking-to's. He compared the bout to real-life showdown, and one that she would be coming to with a gun, and me with just a knife. Obviously, someone with a gun has a much better chance of winning that fight. But ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN, remember that. The gun could jam, it could run out of bullets, anything. Suddenly that knife in your hand is looking pretty good, no? But you need to actually show up to that fight and believe in your knife, this is the only way you even have a chance. It was a lesson that has stuck with me. Because I bulled through my first 10 fights as fast as possible, I was facing girls who had been boxing 10, 12 years compared to my 1 year, but it didn't matter anymore, we both were coming to fights with our own weapons, I need to believe in mine, that's all that mattered.

  Since that fight I've faced National champions, World champions, an Olympian, girls with 10-times the experience I have. I've won fights, I've lost fights, I've been robbed of victories, been the victim of "hometown advantage", I've been through it all. Currently I'm training for a fight in 3 weeks against a girl with over 58 fights, more than double my own, but it doesn't matter. I have my knife, I'm sharpening it, I trust that knife. I may be going in as the under-dog, but they better be ready, cuz I'm coming to fight til that final bell.