First, there was Ali. He was the greatest - and told everyone so.
He floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee.
I certainly don't float (the walls of Abbeycroft's gym were vibrating when I was forced to jump around today) and I'm not sure I sting (yet).
Then there was Marvellous Marvin Hagler.
I used to watch him decimate other boxers and wonder at his physique. I'll look like him when I do Movember (at least from the chin up...)
I so admired Sugar Ray Leonard. He moved so gracefully. Again, something for me to work at.
A little way to go on that one - most dancefloors clear very quickly when I get moving and a grooving.
And on the big screen, Rocky Balboa won/lost/won/won/won and seemed to have an answer to every boxer who dared to chin him. The Italian Stallion.
Helen introduced me to boxing today - and I loved it.
It was tough, don't get me wrong, and tiring. I'll feel the hurt tomorrow and the next day.
But now all I need is a manly nickname.
Any suggestions?
Barry the Box?
Barry the Bruise?
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