Of course, just when I am hyped to walk a bit, it rains. It Pours. I shouldn't complain, but humidity waylays me, as does heat. I inherited my mother's motabulism. I am cold when everyone else is hot. I have confessed claustrophobia and football dressing rooms gag me with a spoon. Simply to please a girl, I joined the track team in high school and don't recall what vents. I discovered boxing ability by accident and was very successful at that sport. I was a "singer" and suffered abuse for not being a jock. It was at a Boy Scout "Jamboree" campout in Oklahoma when I first put on gloves. Mount Pleasant troops joined troops from Oklahoma at Beaver's Bend Park. I was Junior Assistant Scout Master of Troop 203 and bugler for the event. We had a Scout named Vernon Emmett who was a neighbor and one sweet guy. His speech impediment brought about teasing, but all in fun. The leader of the Oklahoma scouts was a very macho fellow and his idea of good fun was 'boxing'. We set up a ring and the first night's event was "Blind Man's Bluff'. Scouts from each troop would "challenge" someone from the other troop to bouts. A tin cup held two squares of paper, "L" and "R". We were the 'guests', so each contestant from Mt. Pleasant got to draw first. I had no interest in fighting at all, but Vernon did. His opponent was a bully and he selected Vernon for ridicule. Vernon drew "R" and was elated since he was right-handed. Each 'fighter' was given one glove, left or right, according to what they drew. There were six bouts of four fighters were scheduled and the left-handed fighter drew first for each bout. Vernon's opponent drew "6", so their bout was the last one. Rules were that each fighter was blindfold and got one glove. With the other hand secured behind the back, they would each go to a corner, be turned around a few times and proceed at the bell. Each bout was four minutes long and There were few good punches thrown, up until the last bout. All four boxers were blindfolded and placed in their corner, with one exception. The bully's blindfold was black gauze through which he could see! Oklahoma knew about this and their cheers drowned out ours. Needless to say, Vernon got the raw deal. Vernon was from my troop, a neighbor and a friend. Without thinking, the minute Vernon got hit in the face, I jumped in and shouted, "Stop This Now!" SILENCE! Not a sound. I then Helped Vernon out of the ring and challenged the 'bully' to a real match. I had never put on gloves before, but I felt responsible. I really do not recall the bout, but I beat that bully all over that ring. He finally yelled "Throw in That Towel!". When I returned home, my buddies all came over to shout, "The Texoma Kid"! Coach Sam Parker drafted me for his boxing team and that was the end of my teasing. I got even with all those hoodlums who had given me trouble because I sang. Vernon was my shadow from then on.We lost contact after that year. I discovered that God changes "Lack of Interest" in amazing ways. The only thing remaining from the boxing glory days is a tarnished boxing glove and a lower bridge. If God intended us to box He should have provided gloves at birth. The One Greatest "Lack of Interest" is very evident in America today....failure to be 'interested' in Jesus Christ!
And that's what I get from My Box of Chocolates right here in my corner studio under the shadow of Kyle Field.