This account was first read by me back in the late 80's. I'm not sure who the author is, but sounds like her daughter was a pretty good boxier. There's also a follow up account when the mother boxes the future groom. I'll see if I can find it.
I was a pre-teen girl when I started boxing. My younger and only brother needed a sparring partner at home and no one else was available. Even when the two of us reached our teens and my brother had become quite an amateur, we would frequently spar. I enjoyed boxing and I developed some skill in it. Later I married and had two girls, but I continued my boxing activity, involving my
girls as soon as they showed an interest.
The girls became quite good and, besides sparring with me and each other, would often box boys. They always gave a good account of themselves, sometimes beating their male opponents quite decisively. More than one lad left our family rec room with cotton stuffed in his nose, a black eye, or a puffy lip, compliments of one of the girls. I don't know how many times I had to massage a young man's ego after he was dropped to the canvas in our home ring by one of my tigresses. The first time we put a boy in the ring with my youngest she reduced him to tears in less than the sixty seconds allotted for the first round. We declared her the winner by TKO on that one and she has never stopped since.
Boxing was good for my girls. It permitted them to develop fine athletic bodies and did not in any way diminish their femininity. In charm and poise they were the equal of any girl in school, and in assertiveness and confidence, they were superior to them all. They grew up and the oldest married and moved away.
Susan, my youngest, also had plans to marry. It was about four weeks before that event that her fiance dropped in while she and I were working out in our boxing room at home. My daughter invited him to put on the gloves with her and he accepted. He was aware of our family boxing activity but he had never before gotten in on it. I found a pair of trunks he could wear which he put on. His running shoes would be okay, I said, and I briefed him on the rules: three two minute rounds, three knockdown limit, mandatory eight count and I would referee. He nodded knowingly. As I laced on his gloves I asked if he had much boxing experience. He replied that at a few Boy Scouts summer camps he had boxed some, but never with a girl.
I set the timers and round one started. It quickly became apparent that my future son-in-law's boxing ability was dismal; his jab looked weak, and his right hand was slow and awkward. He was a nice, neat boy and I approved of him, but he was no athlete and he didn't belong in the same boxing ring with my Susan. However, it was too late now.
My little girl boxed a textbook first round, testing her jab on her male opponent's tender nose and mouth, and trying a combination now and then. Nothing too punishing and I marveled at her restraint; I knew she could do better, and wondered if she was concerned about punishing her fiance. The round closed and I visited her fiance's corner first to check him out. He was okay but breathing a little hard. I then visited Susan, who was grinning mischievously. She told me she was going to pick up the pace in round two.
She did and this made her groom-elect back up. Susan bored in and started to punish him with good solid body shots and snappy jabs to his face. He did not have a good defense and most of Susan's punches found their mark with great effect. As each blow landed the poor boy would wince or gasp. Susan was administering a painful lesson here and I knew he couldn't take it much longer. He looked relieved when the second round ended.
During the one minute rest I went to his corner and asked if he was all right and was OK to keep going. He foolishly said he was and I dried him off with a towel. His face was red, his right eye was swollen and surrounded by a purple tinge, and there were large red spots on his body where Susan had delivered some telling blows. I then went to Susan's corner and found her in high spirits. "Mom, I think I'll knock him out," she said to me."Okay, but don't ruin our wedding plans," I replied.
Susan started round three by bobbing and weaving to confuse her opponent. Then she drove a quick right to the boy's tummy and a hard left to his ribs. These body blows were devastating to her fiance!His knees buckled and down he went into a kneeling position, trying to catch his breath. Susan went to a neutral corner and I started the count while the poor kid struggled to stand up. He finally made it, in time, and I asked if he wanted to continue. He said he did and I took him to his corner where I wiped his nose with a towel. Susan's body punches had literally knocked the snot out of him. In all he must have had fifteen seconds to recover, but he needed it.
I motioned them to continue and again Susan went to the body, not too hard this time, only enough so he would lower his guard. Then Susan threw a left to his nose and followed with an overhand right that landed flush on his left temple. His eyes seemed to roll in his head and he went down hard. Susan raised her arms and smiled; she knew he was finished. I started the count looking into his eyes, which eventually began to focus, so I wasn't too worried. I then started the count, to make it a formality. At five he raised his head off the canvas, six--seven--eight and he came to a sitting position where he stayed while I completed the full count. "You're out!" I said. I helped the poor boy to his corner and with a towel wiped away some blood from under his nose and very gently and sympathetically cleaned off his face. There was nothing I could do for his swollen and soon to be black eye or puffed and bloody lip. I then had to go over to Susan who, while very happy over her victory, was getting impatient for the announcement. I took Susan to the middle of the ring, raised her hand in the air, and declared, "Winner by knockout in round three, Susan."
I looked at her fiance rather anxiously to get his reaction. I was relieved to see him nod his head in agreement and even smile a little. I knew then that everything was still on and our wedding plans were safe despite the beating he had just received from his future bride.
