Boxing Progress Report No. 11: The Well Has Been Capped

Looks like my nose is on the mend. I got through 4 rounds of sparring on Saturday without any actual blood dribbling out of it. High fives all round. That’s not to say I didn’t get popped a couple of times. A few jabs got through my defences to test the elasticity of my nasal cartilage, but I’m please to report it sprung back to its original shape without having to reach for the hanky.

Along with my stock-in-trade left jab, very encouragingly, I also managed to land a couple of pretty good straight rights and... wait for it... an actual left hook. Aghast, The Armoury came to a standstill. The only noise heard being the dying slaps of the speedball.

"Yoh," said Clever.

On the down side, my neck’s not happy. I slipped a disc about 10 years ago, trapping a nerve. Cue eye-watering pain. Contrary to the scalpel-sharpened advice of “Cape Town’s leading neurologist” I opted for Ayurvedic acupuncture and 6 months recovery over a trip to the operating theatre and neck vertebrae fusion. It worked. Since then my neck’s always been a weak point, but at least I avoided very invasive surgery.

Any way, a couple of weeks ago during a boxing fitness class, we did some rather odd sit-up/squat/shoulder-raise combo exercise with a medicine ball... bad idea. The muscles in my neck went into a spasm which usually indicates the disc is unhappy. More uncomfortable than painful, but it’s hasn’t gone away.

My Auyurvedic guru has since passed away, but chiropractor/physio/acupuncturist Rob Beffa is my go-to guy these days. Time for another visit…

Boxing Progress Report No. 10: The Black Eyed Steve

Blood in the ring again during Saturday arvie’s sparring session. This time mine.

It was Left Hook Guy again and that damn difficult-to-block punch of his. I had ducked under a straight left-right combo but committed to cardinal sin of coming up without my right glove positioned next to the side of my face. He didn’t even hit me that hard either, but the hook landed flush on the side of my schnozz. There was a small chiropractic crackle between my eyes and I felt a warm flood in my nose. This is despite wearing head protection… which now needs a bit of a clean.

And all in my very first round of sparring.

“Madala,” said Clever clicking his tongue and stepping into the ring with a roll of toilet paper (he calls me Madala… ‘old man’), “you’ve got to keep that right up.”

Left Hook Guy was mortified that he’s conked another one of Clever’s Army – his own team – on the nose and drawn blood, but we all know that’s part-and-parcel of the deal. It’s good prep. Bloody noses aren’t uncommon at the white-collar boxing fight nights.

After both swallowing a few cc’s of my own blood and being swabbed up by Clever, I boxed another 3 more rounds getting hit one more time on the nose. It wasn’t much more than a jab, but again more blood. And more swabbing…and then one final round. For me. I needed to climb back on the horse and finish properly.

Touch-glove respect and manly hugs all round.

Woke up on Sunday morning looking like this…

Steve's Boxing Progress Report No. 9: "Lightbulbs in the ring"

A cerebral lightbulb went off during sparring yesterday. One of the guys in Clever’s Army has a pretty damn good left jab. He also has a pretty damn good left hook… which often follows the jab. It’s a lefty double-up. Jab-hook. Bam-bam. Very quick. I’d been “catching” the jab with my right glove as one should, then bringing said right glove back to my head to protect against the hook. Sometimes I’m quick enough. Sometimes I’m not. It’s not so much sore, as it is bladdy annoying.

Clever takes me aside.

“When he throws the jab, don’t just block it, knock it away with your right. It’s not just a block or a deflection, but you actually hit it down with your glove and forearm. As you do this, counter with your own left jab. As his left arm is now down in front of him, there’s no way he can throw the left hook and you can throw you own counter without worrying about it.”

Jab-Hook Guy kindly throws a few slowish jabs that allow me to get the hang of it. I do. It works. Now I’m not just blocking his jab, I’m telling it it’s no longer welcome ‘round these parts.

Lightbulbs ping on like the end of an Eskom power-failure.

Steve's Boxing Progress Report No. 8: "There Will Be Blood"

A neck recovery bodering on the miraculous meant I sparred again on Saturday arvie. Clever is training 4 guys for Fight Night. "My soldiers" he calls us and we all spar together once a week. One of us bled for the first time on Saturday. Not me, which is always nice. A sharp left hook evaded both the big 16oz gloves we train with and the head guard to land flush on the one guy's nose. The punch wasn't thrown by me either in case you're thinking "nice one Steve"... I'm still manufacturing my left hook. Any way, it results in a bloody nose which Clever swiftly mops up. "Blood and sweat," says Clever without batting an eyelid. "If you want to box, you will always find those two in the ring."

We carry on sparring and the guy's nose continues to dribble a little blood. For the rest of the session you can smell the salty rust in the ring...

17 October

Steve's Boxing Progress Report No. 7: We can label this one "Sometimes You Just Can't Win"... or... "Feck, I'm Getting Old".
My lower back's been acting up lately. Once warmed up it's ok, but after training it gets stiff and sore. Each morning it takes about 15 minutes and at least two cups of tongue-curlingly strong coffee before I feel anything approaching limber. So yesterday morning I go off to Rob Beffa for some treatment. Rob's a chiropractor/physio/acupuncture person with very thick eyebrows and an amazing ability to put bones and muscles back where they should be. Some tweaks, pulls, cracks, and a few well-placed needles later and I can actually tie my shoelaces again. With this new found elasticity, at lunch time I go off to do a boxing class... and in the first 5 minutes pull a muscle in neck. I hold my head in my hands, not only in despair, but also because my neck muscles can no longer support it.
On the upside, I'm getting really good at that snotty-nose noise you're supposed to make every time you throw a punch.

14 October

Steve's Boxing Progress Report No.6: The Spar... more than a shop

I had my first full-on sparring session on Wednesday. I learned this: 1. Sparring for an hour is bladdy tiring. Even if it’s a “2 minutes, sparring, 4 minutes” rest vibe. 2. Big guys hit really, really hard. Little guys... not so much. I got hit really, really hard a few times by a big guy. 3. I had my first real doubts about this boxing thing. Maybe I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. I’m 45 in a couple months…20 years older than most of these guys. 4. It still hurts when you wake up the next morning. 5. At today’s session with Clever I was the sharpest I’ve ever been.

30 September

Steve's Boxing Progress Report No.5: My kingdom for a hook

Last night I sparred with my trainer Clever. Actual boxing sparring as opposed to the verbal type I'm far more used. I learned this... my left hook is terrible. Not so much a hook as a friendly tap on the shoulder. My jab, however, is pretty good. Fast and accurate. A lot like my typing. My aerobic fitness is very good... my punching stamina not so much. I have a helluva lot still to learn.

22 September

Steve's Boxing Progress Report No.4: Boxing Clever

I'm now the proud owner of my own boxing protective head gear. I think it works. My trainer - his name is Clever - gave it a thorough test, repeatedly hitting me on the head during sparring. I only needed two Panados afterwards.

20 August

The Constant Gardener

On test… Honda Jazz Hybrid

As much as the chaps over at Honda might hate it, I’m afraid their cars have something of a, shall we say, “mature” reputation. I’ll show you what I mean...

I say “Honda”.

And do you think: “Ah yes, blue/grey tyre smoke and bullet-train acceleration?” No. Exactly. You’re thinking blue/grey hair and strict adherence to the speed limit.

Yes indeed, Hondas are the sensible shoes of the automobile world. Sure, they’re a little pricey, but they’re very well put together. And like all quality goods, if treated well, a Honda will serve you well for the longest time. The odd Type R or S2000 convertible might get the youngsters going, but on the whole Hondas are the inevitable the car of choice for those of retirement age.

Which is why the new Jazz Hybrid is going to get these folks particularly excited. You see this new car allows to you to do a spot of gardening while you drive… and we all know how much senior citizens like a spot of gardening.

The Jazz Hybrid has a similar drive train as found in its Insight sibling, which is to say it’s powered by a 65 kW, 1.3 litre four-cylinder petrol engine with a supplemental electric motor adding another 10 kW in the mix, all governed by a CVT auto transmission. And this is where the gardening bit comes in. Striving for life on the car’s multi-hued dashboard display are five little tree-shaped lights. Drive with a restrained, sensible-shoe-ensconced right foot and, thanks to the clever piggy-back battery that gets re-charged every time you brake, the little trees will grow. Drive enthusiastically, however, and they slowly die.

It’s senior citizen heaven. And it’s a heaven that’s also had something of a make-over. The new Hybrid features the Jazz range’s mid-life face-lift with a revised front and rear bumpers that improve aerodynamics and a new grill for the Hybrid meant to convey its techy roots. Inside, there have been minor improvements to the Jazz’s somewhat miraculous interior space with its space-saver seats and huge 300-litre boot.

While the senior citizens will love this car, labeling it as only suitable for this niche would be selling the whole Jazz range woefully short. While it may well be perfect for those looking for sensible, hassle free, motoring, the Jazz is also the perfect car for the modern motorist. It’s small, economical, nippy (the CVT auto box is surprisingly good), and has the kind of interior space that borders on the miraculous. It may not be the sexiest small car out there, and certainly not the cheapest, but it is the best.

Which is why you could, if the mood took you, stand up, and in your best JFK voice declare… “Ich bin ein pensioner.”

The Hybrid Jazz Hybrid goes for R244 698 & comes with a 3-year 100,000km warranty and a 4-year 60 000km service plan

As published in the September issue of Kulula's in-flight mag, Khuluma

THE FIVER… because we love a list

Top five really weird Japanese car names

And they say the Japanese don’t have a sense of humour. What utter nonsense. How else would they come up with these car names like…

Mitsubishi MUM 500 Shall We Join Us?
Surely the only car ever given a sentence as a name. And not just a sentence, but a question too. More than that… a question one seldom hears outside a group therapy session for schizophrenics.

Daihatsu Naked
When it comes to covering all their bases, no-one does it better than those clever Nipponese marketers. They’ve even made a car specifically for the ultra-niche nudist market.

Isuzu Mysterious Utility Wizard
Sorry Mr Radcliff, no… contrary to what the name might suggest, this Isuzu has in fact no magical power what so ever. It’s really just an SUV version of an Isuzu bakkie.

Honda That's
A Honda that’s what? Small? From the Little Box School Of Automotive Design? Has a word missing in its name? Yes even that most urbane of Jap car brands can get weird.

The Yamaha Pantryboy Supreme
Universally acknowledged as perhaps the weirdest name in the history of automobiles, this compact van raises the rather uncomfortable question: what is… a pantryboy… exactly?

**can't find a pic for this one anywhere. the mystery lives on...

Are You Jacques Kallis In Disguise?

On test… BMW X3 xDrive35i

The new BMW X3… it’s the Jacques Kallis of cars. Seriously. Just look at the facts.

1. They’ve both had a recent make-over. You’ve probably noticed that our Jacques has got a new look going with that wonderful thatch of hair that’s suddenly sprouted from his head. Yes, clever men wearing white lab coats spent many hours sculpting that new bonnet. Same with the X3. Earlier this year the Bavarian company unveiled their next generation mid-size SUV – it’s also the product of men in white coats who spent almost as much time sculpting its bonnet.

2. They’ve both gotten a little bigger. If you look back at those photies of a young Jacquie, you’ll notice he was somewhat slimmer when he first started his international career. He’s grown over the years – no doubt thanks to many, many hours in the gym – and Jacquie now fills out his whites a lot more than when he walked out to bat for his first Test in Durbs nearly 16 years ago.

And the X3 also has a bigger boot. In fact it compared to the first generation X3 launched back in 2004, this new SUV is bigger in every way. It’s 83mmm longer, 28mm wider and 12mm higher, which puts it precisely and purposefully between the BMW X5 and the X1 unveiled last year. Beemer’s new mid-size SUV looks all the better for it though. Gone is the slightly-too-tall awkwardness of the previous generation, replaced by the sharp creases and altogether more aggressive styling borrowed from its bigger brother.

3 They’re both the best allrounders around. Say what you like, Jacques remains the best all round cricketer in the world. Fact: he tops the ICC’s rankings for Test allrounders by a long way. If you were looking for one player to do bat, bowl and field for your team, then he’s your go-to-guy.

Similarly, if you’re looking for a car that will take you and you family any where, safely, comfortably and, if you choose, quickly, then the X3 similarly earns the go-to-moniker. Interior space and general ergonomics are several notches above it’s predecessor affording you a generous 550-litre boot that’ll fold out to 1 600-litres with the seats down.

Powered by BMW’s award-winning 225kW, 3.0-litre turbo engine, the X3 can also be a bliksem fast car with a chassis to handle both its engine output and SUV-size weight. The xDrive four-wheel drive system, coupled to a Dynamic Damper Control with either Normal, Sport or Sport+ modes, means you can keep it nice n’ comfy, or stiff enough for some automotive fun. The levels of grip and lack of body roll in this Sport+ mode are amazing

Maybe if Jacques had driven this instead of the that fancy Audi R8 sportscar of his, he wouldn’t have driven into that wall. Just saying.

Hang on. BMW xDrive35i… Jacques Kallis, 35 years old. Sheez, I rest my case.

The BMW xDrive35i starts at R614 182

(as appeared in the July issue of the Kulula in-flight mag)