black, blue, and red (part 1)

This is Part 1 of a three-part blog entry called "black, blue, and red."
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3


Black, blue, and dark red. Those are the colors of my face right now, hours after the first karate tournament that I fought in in six years and only the second I fought in in more than a decade. Some 6-foot tall dude named Mierko decided he didn't like how my stiff jab knocked his head back as I popped him in his jaw. After warning me "If you do that again, I'm gonna hit you back" (duh!), he didn't wait for a repeat performance, and instead proceeded to smash my face in. He got me twice: One was a punch that got me solid on my left cheek, leaving a conspicuous and glaring bruise ... the other was another punch that struck me square in the upper nose. Both my nostrils are still bleeding.

I'm all puffed up. I'm discolored. And it seems that the left side of my face is curiously asymmetric with my right.

Well, at least I don't look like this fucker here:

The price of glory. Glory or stupidity? I don't know. Maybe I'll let you decide.

You see, I decided months ago not to fight in this tournament, and that I'd only do kata. With an injured ankle and a conspicuous lack of ring experience over the last 12 years, I knew I had no business entering kumite at a national-level event. Although I picked up my training markedly, I did so strictly for kata competition.

So what got me to change my mind? Thinking about it brought a smile to face as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror a few minutes ago. Unfortunately, looking at all that black and blue, I began to realize that that smile was just about the only bright thing around my head all day long.

The short answer to the question: A woman -- One in a plaid schoolgirl's miniskirt, knee-high socks, and dancing high heels.

This is Part 1 of a three-part blog entry called "black, blue, and red."
Part 1

Part 2

Part 3