Boot To The Head

I have an embarrassing confession to make.  But first, a bit of background information:

You may recall I mentioned getting hit during a sparring session a couple of weeks ago.  Thanks to everyone for the good wishes; my eye is back to normal now except for a bit of blurriness and a few festive sparkles remaining in my peripheral vision.  The doc has assured me it will clear and that my retina is now no more likely to detach than before I got hit, so I’m cleared for takeoff again.


A few days ago, Hubby sent me this:

The soundtrack (excluding Unchained Melody) is from a Canadian comedy troupe called The Frantics*, from their 1987 album titled “Boot To The Head”.  The performers are martial artists, and the skit was put on at a martial arts convention in 2008.

Needless to say, I laughed my ass off.

Those guys were just clowning around, but the truth is I can’t approach that level of skill even when I’m trying my best.

Apparently I have some rare learning disability that prevents me from putting on my hand wraps correctly even after being shown repeatedly.  My striking and blocking technique could be matched by an inebriated orangutan, but the orangutan would be more graceful.  Every minute or two, I have to stop and gasp for breath until my heart rate slows to panicked-gerbil range.

The sad truth is that I punched myself in the eye.

I had my guard up, with my face tucked down safely behind my upraised fists.  I was supposed to be sparring with my trainer, which actually meant that he danced around me taunting, “Hit me, go on, hit your trainer!” while he dodged my wild swings, laughing and sticking out his tongue and doing everything but wiggling his ears.

(I’d like to note that he’s a big guy with a much longer reach than me.  And he’s an experienced fighter.   And about 20 years younger.  This disclaimer is just a feeble attempt to retain a few shreds of my tattered dignity. Now back to our regular programming…)

He was tapping my guard approximately as fast as a boxer hitting a speed bag:  whap-whap-whap-whap-whap.  While he laughed.  And dodged.  And made faces.

I started to laugh, too.  And I didn’t hold my guard strongly enough.  And he hit my left hand.  And my glove flew back and I punched myself in the eye.

I hardly felt it.  I’m so focused when I’m sparring that I don’t feel much pain until afterward anyway, but this didn’t even leave a mark.  If it had been anywhere else on my body, I wouldn’t have noticed it at all – that’s how lightly he was hitting.

But apparently the angle was perfect, and the next morning I was off to the eye doctor with floaters and bright flashes and blurry vision.

Just goes to show that I’m unlikely to achieve my life’s ambition, which is to NOT die of my own stupidity.

But “injured in a sparring accident” makes me sound like a badass if you don’t know the inconvenient truth.  Maybe that’s why Hubby also sent me this in the same email:

At least I prefer to think that’s why he sent it…

Anybody else suffer klutzy sports moments?  Please tell me I’m not the only one.

* * *

I’ve set this up to post automatically since I’m on the road today – another 800-mile marathon across the prairies, woohoo!  (No, I’m not being facetious; I love the drive.)  But I won’t have time to respond to comments today, so I’ll catch up tomorrow instead.  “See” you then…

*The Frantics were best known for their song, “Boot To The Head”, to which they added new and different rants at each live show:

33 thoughts on “Boot To The Head

  1. Pingback: It’s A Conspiracy! | Diane Henders

  2. Well, I once turned a card table on its side and commenced folding the legs up, and thought I could bend over it to get the bottom ones too, but I was a little too short and my feet left the ground and I sailed over the whole thing and hit the wall. And then for some reason I told people about it.


  3. “Just goes to show that I’m unlikely to achieve my life’s ambition, which is to NOT die of my own stupidity”.
    I am glad others than myself have such high ambitions. it isn’t easy, is it?


  4. I’m sure 12 bloggers didn’t like that you hit yourself in the eye! We just liked the story..not the actual know? 😉
    Well, like bigsheepcommunication said…I am not involved in any cool sports like that..but I too tend to fall down when walking on a straight road..hehehe.


  5. You are a dear to confess 🙂

    And in turn I will confess to repeatedly smacking my face with a plate while hand-washing dishes. I guess I bear down too much with the hand holding the dishcloth and it slips off the edge, la la la. Anyway, you can imagine what I will do to avoid actual sports where I might kill myself unintentionally. I would love to have better coordination and look fierce/graceful. Glad your retina is good now!


  6. I don’t do martial arts (well apart from a short T’ai Chi course years ago) and I’m quite capable of hitting myself – in the eyes, on the head, in the mouth, anywhere really… Usually when I’m trying to pull a lid off something or even when I’ve pulled a sheet up over myself too enthusiastically – I’ve done it many times. So I sympathise. Well, I mean, I’d sympathise anyway, even if I weren’t such a clumsy creature. Glad your eye’s getting better.


  7. Glad to know I am not alone in the hitting-oneself-in-the-face department. I have to be careful doing speed bag hand motions while kickboxing. I’ve been known to bop myself in the nose. It’s no mystery why I work out to exercise DVDs in the privacy of my own home.

    Happy trails!


    • Thanks – I had an excellent drive, with some unexpected scenery. I saw a bald eagle sitting in a field in the middle of Saskatchewan; and there are still 10-foot-high snowbanks between the lanes of the TransCanada Highway between Moose Jaw and Regina. It was like driving through a tunnel in places. Yikes. And I thought spring was almost here…


  8. You’re not on your own, Diane… I do things like that all the time! Well, I thought I’d actually, and finally, outgrown it… but no, things still happen. I burned my belly this morning. I know…


  9. Well, my hobbies are not nearly as badass as yours, but I have managed to sprain my ankle just by walking. Pathetic, right?


    • Sad, but not pathetic at all – I completely relate. It seems as though my most annoying injuries are the ones suffered when I was doing something where I shouldn’t have been able to hurt myself.


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