My boxing gloves were laced perfectly, my headgear correctly adjusted and my mouthpiece properly inserted, but nothing helped me anticipate the quick jab to my face. I was a 47-year-old police recruit; my opponent was 21 and pure muscle. Needless to say, I saw stars for a moment and reeled a bit, but I quickly punched back, much to the surprise of a training officer, and finished the round. (No outward signs of a concussion or other injury. I am certain I would have won a best-of-three round bout.)
