“Female boxers – Islington Boxing Gym” by bbcworldservice

Gentlemen: Follow my easy, step-by-step program and you, too, can be beat up by a girl.

It is easier than you think.

My proven technique is simple and effective. It does not require an expensive gym membership or any complicated exercise program.

It works for all popular combat sports to include boxing, kick boxing, karate and all martial arts.

Not convinced? Let me provide my credentials?

In my formative years I was routinely beat up by my older sister, Leigh. Pound-for-pound I was a better scrapper than Leigh, but that didn’t prevent her from winning all of our childhood skirmishes. Her trick to success over me was the fact I was an idiot. Whereas I tended to be the hand-to-hand variety of fighter, Leigh was a disciple of armed combat.

Her weapon of choice was a purse with a bowling ball in it. Okay, maybe there wasn’t an actual bowling ball in it. Mainly it was filled with stuff like quarters, bubble gum and the one stick of lipstick Mom allowed her to carry. Bowling ball or not, that purse was heavy and when it slammed into you, believe me, a sledge hammer could not have done more damage.

Her attacks weren’t always limited to me. She often targeted me and my buddies, usually as a result of us taunting her. She would wade into the group of us swinging her purse like a battleaxe. Down we would go, to the man, crying for our mommas.

Stupid thing is, next chance we got, there we were taunting her again.

I shudder at the memory of this, but during that time I was a victim of another girl who pummeled me and my buddies regularly. Her name was Mary Elizabeth Higginbotham and, never a meaner human trod the earth.

I wish I had the words to describe how mean she was. Hitler, Mussolini and Stalin could have taken notes from her.

I don’t even think she was totally human Based on her disposition and fighting prowess Mary Elizabeth Higginbotham was part girl\part grizzly bear.

At fourteen, she was several years older than me and the guys, and a head taller. She pushed us around all the time. She sicked her dog, Tippy, on us when we rode our bikes past her house.

Geniuses that we were, we retaliated by gathering outside her house and yelling mean things about her. Eventually, she came charging out after us. One thing we never factored into our thinking was, not only was she bigger and stronger than us, but she was faster, too. She usually caught one of us and beat the stuffings (among other things) out of him.

Her pummelings were designed more to humiliate than inflict physical damage. Believe me, I would have preferred the physical damage. She usually wound up sitting on top of you, pulling your hair and slapping your face. More than anything you didn’t want to cry. Not in front of the other guys! But cry you did.

The battle ended with her forcing you to say a word like “Uncle.” If she was really mad, you were forced to say some type of demeaning phrase about yourself.

Believe me, much to your eternal shame, you’d do it.

Odd thing was, there you would be the next day, standing outside her house with your buddies hollering mean things about her.

Okay, enough of my credentials. Let’s get back to the program.

Step #1 is: Find a girl to fight.

You may consider looking up Mary Elizabeth Higginbotham, standing outside her house and yelling mean things about her. She may be too old now to run you down. It is also doubtful she can beat you up even if she uses her walker. Still, it may be worth a try.

What you will probably end up doing is what I did. I joined a free kickboxing groupu at a local gym. So did a girl named Paula.

Step #2: Take your opponent completely for granted.

Our instructor, Ronnie, thought it would be a good idea if Paula and I sparred.

I did not.

I was an experience kick boxer and, at the risk of sounding immodest, I was a fairly good one. I was undefeated in competitions. I also had the hardest punch recorded in that chain of schools and the hardest ‘mule’ kick.

Paula was a fairly new kick boxer.

In terms of size difference, her eye brows might have come up to my chin. I had a good four-inch reach on her. Believe me, in a fight, reach is everything.

I was also an order of magnitude quicker than her. And, besides all that, and I don’t mean this in a misogynistic way: SHE WAS A GIRL!

It would not be a fair fight.

“I want her to learn to engage people bigger than her,” Ronnie, our instructor, confided in me. “All fights are not fair fights.”

I had never sparred with a girl and I still wasn’t high on the idea, but I agreed. I went into the contest with the mindset that it would be more of a light workout than anything else.

How a spar works is you get points for landing punches and kicks. Of course, you pull your punches and kicks.

Step #3: Allow your opponent an advantage.

Two seconds into the fight, I realized Paula had an advantage over me that I had not considered. First, understand that the way sparring works is you get points for landing punches and kicks. This is not the MMA. You do not hit your opponent as hard as you can. You pull your punches and kicks.

The chest area is a frequent target for punches. While I was wide open from navel to neck, I wasn’t about to hit her on the breasts. Believe me, there are plenty of guys that would, but Southern Gentleman that I was, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Paula had (and I am not saying this a dirty-baggy guy way: I’m just saying it because it is true) a significant portion of her upper body protected. That limited the kind of punches I could throw and where I could throw them.

A punch to the midriff meant you had to drop your arms and expose your head.

The first two rounds went about like I figured. I was able to dodge or block all her attempts to hit or kick me. She managed to block a few of my punches or kicks, but for the most part I connected with her at will.

On our third and last round everything was going like the first two rounds. One of the guys on the sidelines watching the match made some type of funny comment. I had just thrown a shot to her belly-section and my arms were not protecting my head. I turned to grin at the guy who made the joke.

Step #3: Take your eyes off your opponent.

Whammo!

The left side of my exploded.

I had a brief flashback of my sister, Leigh, and her purse.

I don’t remember much after that.

When I opened my eyes, I was looking up at the ceiling. Paula was looking down at me with a stricken look on her face. She was on the verge of tears. She kept saying something to me; apologizing, I think.

Another flashback forced itself into my conciseness. Mary Elizabeth Higginbotham was staring down at me, only she wasn’t apologizing. She was ordering me to say, “I’m a little ‘fraidy cat punk who likes to wear dresses.”

Someone helped me to a chair. Paula followed along.

“Are you okay?” she asked over and over again. “I didn’t mean to hit you so hard.”

Unlike Paula, who was beside herself with worry and grief, the guys in our class had an absolute field day. I heard a new burst of laughter every time she asked me if I was all right. I heard hoots and comments of all sorts when she explained over and over, “I didn’t mean to kick you so hard.”

“She got you with a round kick in case you didn’t know,” one of them told me.

“Right to your temple,” another one added. “Wham! Down you went.”

He re-enacted me falling down to thunderous laughter.

“You might want to think about fighting a kid next time,” someone suggested. “They can’t jump as high.”

When I could once again enunciate consonants, I told Paula it was all right. That it was a fair shot. I congratulated her.

Our instructor was not as charitable. He told her in no uncertain terms do you not round kick your opponent to the head. He acted like he was put out with her, but I could have sworn he was trying not to grin.

That’s my technique in a nutshell complete with a real-world examples. Now it is up to you to get out there and get your butt handed to you by a girl.

By the way, if you do get in a scrap with Mary Elizabeth Higginbotham and you happen to get the best of her, be sure to tell her I said, “Hi.”