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Thread: Man, I am so bombed right now - hanging out with pikeys all evening

  1. #1
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    Default Man, I am so bombed right now - hanging out with pikeys all evening

    Pikeys - that's not derogatory term, is it?

    You know, these guys...



    I made a thread recently about stimulants but, it got removed.
    Well, the upshot of that is, I started taking them recently and, they give me some energy now.
    Before, I had very low energy.

    So, with this new found liveliness, I decided to return to some training.
    I used to box and wrestle and shit, so, in my locality, small town in the west, there's not a whole lot going on.
    Gotta go to Dublin to get the wrestling.

    But what, I found a newly opened boxing club nearby.

    Minced down yesterday evening.
    They put me through the paces and, the coach deemed me fit enough to attend their sparring session.

    So - first off.
    The coach was a pikey.
    All the boxers in the club were pikeys, sons, brothers, second cousins etc.
    But they seemed fairly chill.

    After the session, he gave me the directions to his house and, told me to meet him there at 6 the next day.

    So, following day, I go to the general locality and, I'm looking for the house. Having difficulty finding it though.
    I stop two girls, young'ish, student type, and ask them to confirm directions.

    "What house you looking for", one gives it.

    "He told me it had some big silver gates out front", I give it.

    "Oh yeah", they say in unison.

    "Just down there. There's pictures of horses mounted on the gates also" - they seem familiar with the house.

    I get there, chain my bike up, and go inside.

    There's about 15 or so folks sat around the telly.
    They have an aquarium - I kid you not. Not a motherfuckin' fish tank. I'm talking, one big ass aquarium, taking up the lower end of the room.
    The place is lavishly decorated, like a five star hotel or some shit.

    I park my ass down. There's some conversation. Their kids are screaming incessantly.
    I almost tell this one fat kid parked on a recliner that he should shut the fuck up and stop yelling for no apparent reason but, as I'm the guest, I figure I should keep things nice and reserved.

    Eventually, "we'll be on the way".

    We all mince out the front door and crowd ourselves into two vans that are parked out front.
    As we're getting in the vans, I question one of them as to whether my bike will be safe out front like that.

    "Oh yeah - don't worry", he gives it.
    "Some students tried to steal our bike once, but my father ran out and caught them. The first he, he knocked out with a left hook. Then, his girlfriend started screaming, so he laid her out with punch too".

    He said this, casual like, as if he was telling me his father had just gone out to get the papers or something.
    "Cool", I'm thinking.
    At least I know my bike is safe anyways.

    So we're in this van, on the way out to fuck-knows-where.
    Somewhere deep in the country side apparently.
    It is fucking hot - they have the heater on full blast.
    There's some conversation, but I can't understand a fucking word.
    It's all in pikey-dialect, that's seemingly not comprehensible to your average bloke.

    Eventually, we get to the place.
    This small ass boxing gym.

    We go inside. There's a ring, and the place is fucking PACKED.
    I don't know how many people but, you can just about move in there.

    Warm up, wraps and gloves on, and I'm first up for sparring.

    This big mean dude is stood across the ring from me.
    Must weight about.... pffff.... 88 or 90kgs or so?

    I'm a trim 78.

    We touch gloves and start sparring.
    Motherfuckers got a hard punch.
    I paw away with jabs from the outside and keep circling, keep my movement going.

    I blast him with a few nice hooks and straight rights.

    Being my first time back sparring in what, 2 years, we started with 3x3 min rounds.
    He caught me with a few nice shots but, I'm ate them and kept moving.
    Really felt it at the end. It takes a while for the fitness to adjust again.

    Hopped out.
    Heard later the guy was a former bare knuckle boxer in London. Quite experienced but, had a break and was just coming back to it now also.

    I shadow and the hit the bag for a while.

    Then, toward the end, there's this big lump of a young lad.
    Big ass arms on him, tattoo's etc.
    He looks mean so, I ask the coach, "maybe he'd be a good spar for me?".

    "Sure" - he gives it.

    I hear someone say he's not that experienced.
    I figure it might be an easier spar but, still a little nervous cause, he's an imposing looking motherfucker.

    Hop in the ring. Start sparring.
    He's swinging hell for leather, basically trying to knock me out but, his composure is quite poor, probably from lack of experience.
    Way easier than the bare knuckle dude.

    I move around, paw with a few jabs, back him up, get him on the ropes.
    He's obviously quite novice, despite being a brute, and my coach tells me to hit the body.

    So I plant this left in his ribs.
    He goes kind of weak after that.

    In between rounds, my coach gets up close and whispers in my ear, "listen, john. I want you to knock this guy out. He's trying to knock you out. What you're going to do now, is let go of some heavy shots, and knock him out. Alright?" - he gives it, raising his eyebrows to me.

    I'm not sure what to think.
    I hear of this happening at gyms sometimes but, I never really think it's fair.
    But, next round, I get him on the ropes again.
    Again, lack of experience, no ring craft, he's stood there, just covering up.

    I plant him to the body again.
    No response.

    His corner man steps in and says that's enough.
    I think he knows my corner just wanted me to brutalize him, and called time.

    And that's it.

    We get changed, crowd back into the van, drive the half hour back into town.
    We all crowd out again at the pikeys house.
    They ask me in for coffee or tea but, I tell them I better hit the road.

    "See you next week John", and that's it.

    To be honest, I was relieved to see my bike was still there.
    And I wasn't concerned about students taking it.
    I thought they, as in, the pikeys who owned the house, might cut the lock and have it stripped and sold for parts, all by the time we got back.

    Was all good though.

    Good to get back to training.
    Hope I can keep it up - i.e. the stimulants and drugs keep working.


    And for reading all that, for your troubles....


    Last edited by John Dunne; 26-11-15 at 00:08.

  2. #2
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    Well, I'm sure your teacher will give you a gold star for your video clips...

  3. #3
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    The first rule of Fight Club is:You do not talk about Fight Club.

    But then that was white collar boxing, I guess.

    A for effort.

    A+ for your second GIF.

    As no doubt you well know, Pikey is derogatory, an unfortunate English term gaining some ground in Ireland-cold on the heels of the now established "cheers" (as a general thank you).
    For me "Cheers" means an 80s sitcom.
    <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
    Shalom/salaam.
    10,000 years of Middle Eastern civilisation and the place is not at peace but rather in pieces.

  4. #4
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    Oct 2015
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    Quote Originally Posted by John Dunne View Post
    Pikeys - that's not derogatory term, is it?

    You know, these guys...



    I made a thread recently about stimulants but, it got removed.
    Well, the upshot of that is, I started taking them recently and, they give me some energy now.
    Before, I had very low energy.

    So, with this new found liveliness, I decided to return to some training.
    I used to box and wrestle and shit, so, in my locality, small town in the west, there's not a whole lot going on.
    Gotta go to Dublin to get the wrestling.

    But what, I found a newly opened boxing club nearby.

    Minced down yesterday evening.
    They put me through the paces and, the coach deemed me fit enough to attend their sparring session.

    So - first off.
    The coach was a pikey.
    All the boxers in the club were pikeys, sons, brothers, second cousins etc.
    But they seemed fairly chill.

    After the session, he gave me the directions to his house and, told me to meet him there at 6 the next day.

    So, following day, I go to the general locality and, I'm looking for the house. Having difficulty finding it though.
    I stop two girls, young'ish, student type, and ask them to confirm directions.

    "What house you looking for", one gives it.

    "He told me it had some big silver gates out front", I give it.

    "Oh yeah", they say in unison.

    "Just down there. There's pictures of horses mounted on the gates also" - they seem familiar with the house.

    I get there, chain my bike up, and go inside.

    There's about 15 or so folks sat around the telly.
    They have an aquarium - I kid you not. Not a motherfuckin' fish tank. I'm talking, one big ass aquarium, taking up the lower end of the room.
    The place is lavishly decorated, like a five star hotel or some shit.

    I park my ass down. There's some conversation. Their kids are screaming incessantly.
    I almost tell this one fat kid parked on a recliner that he should shut the fuck up and stop yelling for no apparent reason but, as I'm the guest, I figure I should keep things nice and reserved.

    Eventually, "we'll be on the way".

    We all mince out the front door and crowd ourselves into two vans that are parked out front.
    As we're getting in the vans, I question one of them as to whether my bike will be safe out front like that.

    "Oh yeah - don't worry", he gives it.
    "Some students tried to steal our bike once, but my father ran out and caught them. The first he, he knocked out with a left hook. Then, his girlfriend started screaming, so he laid her out with punch too".

    He said this, casual like, as if he was telling me his father had just gone out to get the papers or something.
    "Cool", I'm thinking.
    At least I know my bike is safe anyways.

    So we're in this van, on the way out to fuck-knows-where.
    Somewhere deep in the country side apparently.
    It is fucking hot - they have the heater on full blast.
    There's some conversation, but I can't understand a fucking word.
    It's all in pikey-dialect, that's seemingly not comprehensible to your average bloke.

    Eventually, we get to the place.
    This small ass boxing gym.

    We go inside. There's a ring, and the place is fucking PACKED.
    I don't know how many people but, you can just about move in there.

    Warm up, wraps and gloves on, and I'm first up for sparring.

    This big mean dude is stood across the ring from me.
    Must weight about.... pffff.... 88 or 90kgs or so?

    I'm a trim 78.

    We touch gloves and start sparring.
    Motherfuckers got a hard punch.
    I paw away with jabs from the outside and keep circling, keep my movement going.

    I blast him with a few nice hooks and straight rights.

    Being my first time back sparring in what, 2 years, we started with 3x3 min rounds.
    He caught me with a few nice shots but, I'm ate them and kept moving.
    Really felt it at the end. It takes a while for the fitness to adjust again.

    Hopped out.
    Heard later the guy was a former bare knuckle boxer in London. Quite experienced but, had a break and was just coming back to it now also.

    I shadow and the hit the bag for a while.

    Then, toward the end, there's this big lump of a young lad.
    Big ass arms on him, tattoo's etc.
    He looks mean so, I ask the coach, "maybe he'd be a good spar for me?".

    "Sure" - he gives it.

    I hear someone say he's not that experienced.
    I figure it might be an easier spar but, still a little nervous cause, he's an imposing looking motherfucker.

    Hop in the ring. Start sparring.
    He's swinging hell for leather, basically trying to knock me out but, his composure is quite poor, probably from lack of experience.
    Way easier than the bare knuckle dude.

    I move around, paw with a few jabs, back him up, get him on the ropes.
    He's obviously quite novice, despite being a brute, and my coach tells me to hit the body.

    So I plant this left in his ribs.
    He goes kind of weak after that.

    In between rounds, my coach gets up close and whispers in my ear, "listen, john. I want you to knock this guy out. He's trying to knock you out. What you're going to do now, is let go of some heavy shots, and knock him out. Alright?" - he gives it, raising his eyebrows to me.

    I'm not sure what to think.
    I hear of this happening at gyms sometimes but, I never really think it's fair.
    But, next round, I get him on the ropes again.
    Again, lack of experience, no ring craft, he's stood there, just covering up.

    I plant him to the body again.
    No response.

    His corner man steps in and says that's enough.
    I think he knows my corner just wanted me to brutalize him, and called time.

    And that's it.

    We get changed, crowd back into the van, drive the half hour back into town.
    We all crowd out again at the pikeys house.
    They ask me in for coffee or tea but, I tell them I better hit the road.

    "See you next week John", and that's it.

    To be honest, I was relieved to see my bike was still there.
    And I wasn't concerned about students taking it.
    I thought they, as in, the pikeys who owned the house, might cut the lock and have it stripped and sold for parts, all by the time we got back.

    Was all good though.

    Good to get back to training.
    Hope I can keep it up - i.e. the stimulants and drugs keep working.


    And for reading all that, for your troubles....


    i read as far as stimulants and got bored- thats a lengthy post of which QPH was prone to....I knew a john dunne a few years back....bit of a cunt but harmless in a bogger kind of way

  5. #5
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    Jul 2015
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    I'd like to go back next week.

    The coach said he wanted to build me up with sparring, getting back into it, then look into getting bouts after Christmas.

    The only thing I'll say is, I did feel a little uncomfortable.
    You know, they are pikeys.
    As in, the type of people that would strip your house for the copper piping whilst you're on holidays.

    They were actually super nice to me but, you know, they come from a totally different culture, different background, different way of thinking.

    Plus - how in Gods name they got the money to afford that fucking mansion they were living in....
    You'd wanna have seen the way it was decorated.
    Like I said, it was totally a five star hotel deal.

    Good training, nice people to me - on this occasion at least.

    Yeah - I'll give a few days to recover and my face to heal up, and see how I feel for next week....

    I'd like to keep attending.
    I just hope that discomfort around them doesn't get the better of me.

  6. #6
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    Jeez I have read shorter books but as I said to you before.
    I do like your writing style, you should try and make some money out of it.
    Hope everybody has a safe, peaceful holiday season
    BTW there were actually 4 wise men, 1 was from Cavan hence 3 gifts

  7. #7
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    Quote Originally Posted by lapd View Post
    Jeez I have read shorter books but as I said to you before.
    I do like your writing style, you should try and make some money out of it.
    This seems to be where he is practising, he will start charging soon.

  8. The Following User Says Thank You to justfrank44 For This Useful Post:

    lapd (26-11-15)

  9. #8
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    Quote Originally Posted by John Dunne View Post
    Pikeys - that's not derogatory term, is it?

    You know, these guys...



    I made a thread recently about stimulants but, it got removed.
    Well, the upshot of that is, I started taking them recently and, they give me some energy now.
    Before, I had very low energy.

    So, with this new found liveliness, I decided to return to some training.
    I used to box and wrestle and shit, so, in my locality, small town in the west, there's not a whole lot going on.
    Gotta go to Dublin to get the wrestling.

    But what, I found a newly opened boxing club nearby.

    Minced down yesterday evening.
    They put me through the paces and, the coach deemed me fit enough to attend their sparring session.

    So - first off.
    The coach was a pikey.
    All the boxers in the club were pikeys, sons, brothers, second cousins etc.
    But they seemed fairly chill.

    After the session, he gave me the directions to his house and, told me to meet him there at 6 the next day.

    So, following day, I go to the general locality and, I'm looking for the house. Having difficulty finding it though.
    I stop two girls, young'ish, student type, and ask them to confirm directions.

    "What house you looking for", one gives it.

    "He told me it had some big silver gates out front", I give it.

    "Oh yeah", they say in unison.

    "Just down there. There's pictures of horses mounted on the gates also" - they seem familiar with the house.

    I get there, chain my bike up, and go inside.

    There's about 15 or so folks sat around the telly.
    They have an aquarium - I kid you not. Not a motherfuckin' fish tank. I'm talking, one big ass aquarium, taking up the lower end of the room.
    The place is lavishly decorated, like a five star hotel or some shit.

    I park my ass down. There's some conversation. Their kids are screaming incessantly.
    I almost tell this one fat kid parked on a recliner that he should shut the fuck up and stop yelling for no apparent reason but, as I'm the guest, I figure I should keep things nice and reserved.

    Eventually, "we'll be on the way".

    We all mince out the front door and crowd ourselves into two vans that are parked out front.
    As we're getting in the vans, I question one of them as to whether my bike will be safe out front like that.

    "Oh yeah - don't worry", he gives it.
    "Some students tried to steal our bike once, but my father ran out and caught them. The first he, he knocked out with a left hook. Then, his girlfriend started screaming, so he laid her out with punch too".

    He said this, casual like, as if he was telling me his father had just gone out to get the papers or something.
    "Cool", I'm thinking.
    At least I know my bike is safe anyways.

    So we're in this van, on the way out to fuck-knows-where.
    Somewhere deep in the country side apparently.
    It is fucking hot - they have the heater on full blast.
    There's some conversation, but I can't understand a fucking word.
    It's all in pikey-dialect, that's seemingly not comprehensible to your average bloke.

    Eventually, we get to the place.
    This small ass boxing gym.

    We go inside. There's a ring, and the place is fucking PACKED.
    I don't know how many people but, you can just about move in there.

    Warm up, wraps and gloves on, and I'm first up for sparring.

    This big mean dude is stood across the ring from me.
    Must weight about.... pffff.... 88 or 90kgs or so?

    I'm a trim 78.

    We touch gloves and start sparring.
    Motherfuckers got a hard punch.
    I paw away with jabs from the outside and keep circling, keep my movement going.

    I blast him with a few nice hooks and straight rights.

    Being my first time back sparring in what, 2 years, we started with 3x3 min rounds.
    He caught me with a few nice shots but, I'm ate them and kept moving.
    Really felt it at the end. It takes a while for the fitness to adjust again.

    Hopped out.
    Heard later the guy was a former bare knuckle boxer in London. Quite experienced but, had a break and was just coming back to it now also.

    I shadow and the hit the bag for a while.

    Then, toward the end, there's this big lump of a young lad.
    Big ass arms on him, tattoo's etc.
    He looks mean so, I ask the coach, "maybe he'd be a good spar for me?".

    "Sure" - he gives it.

    I hear someone say he's not that experienced.
    I figure it might be an easier spar but, still a little nervous cause, he's an imposing looking motherfucker.

    Hop in the ring. Start sparring.
    He's swinging hell for leather, basically trying to knock me out but, his composure is quite poor, probably from lack of experience.
    Way easier than the bare knuckle dude.

    I move around, paw with a few jabs, back him up, get him on the ropes.
    He's obviously quite novice, despite being a brute, and my coach tells me to hit the body.

    So I plant this left in his ribs.
    He goes kind of weak after that.

    In between rounds, my coach gets up close and whispers in my ear, "listen, john. I want you to knock this guy out. He's trying to knock you out. What you're going to do now, is let go of some heavy shots, and knock him out. Alright?" - he gives it, raising his eyebrows to me.

    I'm not sure what to think.
    I hear of this happening at gyms sometimes but, I never really think it's fair.
    But, next round, I get him on the ropes again.
    Again, lack of experience, no ring craft, he's stood there, just covering up.

    I plant him to the body again.
    No response.

    His corner man steps in and says that's enough.
    I think he knows my corner just wanted me to brutalize him, and called time.

    And that's it.

    We get changed, crowd back into the van, drive the half hour back into town.
    We all crowd out again at the pikeys house.
    They ask me in for coffee or tea but, I tell them I better hit the road.

    "See you next week John", and that's it.

    To be honest, I was relieved to see my bike was still there.
    And I wasn't concerned about students taking it.
    I thought they, as in, the pikeys who owned the house, might cut the lock and have it stripped and sold for parts, all by the time we got back.

    Was all good though.

    Good to get back to training.
    Hope I can keep it up - i.e. the stimulants and drugs keep working.


    And for reading all that, for your troubles....



    John. if your going to plagiarise something, at least change it enough so you don't come off looking like a fool...


    http://www.mixedmartialarts.com/thre...e-boxers/?pc=4
    Last edited by Best Before; 26-11-15 at 15:27.
    “Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” - Oscar Wilde

  10. #9
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    Quote Originally Posted by John Dunne View Post
    Pikeys - that's not derogatory term, is it?

    You know, these guys...



    I made a thread recently about stimulants but, it got removed.
    Well, the upshot of that is, I started taking them recently and, they give me some energy now.
    Before, I had very low energy.

    So, with this new found liveliness, I decided to return to some training.
    I used to box and wrestle and shit, so, in my locality, small town in the west, there's not a whole lot going on.
    Gotta go to Dublin to get the wrestling.

    But what, I found a newly opened boxing club nearby.

    Minced down yesterday evening.
    They put me through the paces and, the coach deemed me fit enough to attend their sparring session.

    So - first off.
    The coach was a pikey.
    All the boxers in the club were pikeys, sons, brothers, second cousins etc.
    But they seemed fairly chill.

    After the session, he gave me the directions to his house and, told me to meet him there at 6 the next day.

    So, following day, I go to the general locality and, I'm looking for the house. Having difficulty finding it though.
    I stop two girls, young'ish, student type, and ask them to confirm directions.

    "What house you looking for", one gives it.

    "He told me it had some big silver gates out front", I give it.

    "Oh yeah", they say in unison.

    "Just down there. There's pictures of horses mounted on the gates also" - they seem familiar with the house.

    I get there, chain my bike up, and go inside.

    There's about 15 or so folks sat around the telly.
    They have an aquarium - I kid you not. Not a motherfuckin' fish tank. I'm talking, one big ass aquarium, taking up the lower end of the room.
    The place is lavishly decorated, like a five star hotel or some shit.

    I park my ass down. There's some conversation. Their kids are screaming incessantly.
    I almost tell this one fat kid parked on a recliner that he should shut the fuck up and stop yelling for no apparent reason but, as I'm the guest, I figure I should keep things nice and reserved.

    Eventually, "we'll be on the way".

    We all mince out the front door and crowd ourselves into two vans that are parked out front.
    As we're getting in the vans, I question one of them as to whether my bike will be safe out front like that.

    "Oh yeah - don't worry", he gives it.
    "Some students tried to steal our bike once, but my father ran out and caught them. The first he, he knocked out with a left hook. Then, his girlfriend started screaming, so he laid her out with punch too".

    He said this, casual like, as if he was telling me his father had just gone out to get the papers or something.
    "Cool", I'm thinking.
    At least I know my bike is safe anyways.

    So we're in this van, on the way out to fuck-knows-where.
    Somewhere deep in the country side apparently.
    It is fucking hot - they have the heater on full blast.
    There's some conversation, but I can't understand a fucking word.
    It's all in pikey-dialect, that's seemingly not comprehensible to your average bloke.

    Eventually, we get to the place.
    This small ass boxing gym.

    We go inside. There's a ring, and the place is fucking PACKED.
    I don't know how many people but, you can just about move in there.

    Warm up, wraps and gloves on, and I'm first up for sparring.

    This big mean dude is stood across the ring from me.
    Must weight about.... pffff.... 88 or 90kgs or so?

    I'm a trim 78.

    We touch gloves and start sparring.
    Motherfuckers got a hard punch.
    I paw away with jabs from the outside and keep circling, keep my movement going.

    I blast him with a few nice hooks and straight rights.

    Being my first time back sparring in what, 2 years, we started with 3x3 min rounds.
    He caught me with a few nice shots but, I'm ate them and kept moving.
    Really felt it at the end. It takes a while for the fitness to adjust again.

    Hopped out.
    Heard later the guy was a former bare knuckle boxer in London. Quite experienced but, had a break and was just coming back to it now also.

    I shadow and the hit the bag for a while.

    Then, toward the end, there's this big lump of a young lad.
    Big ass arms on him, tattoo's etc.
    He looks mean so, I ask the coach, "maybe he'd be a good spar for me?".

    "Sure" - he gives it.

    I hear someone say he's not that experienced.
    I figure it might be an easier spar but, still a little nervous cause, he's an imposing looking motherfucker.

    Hop in the ring. Start sparring.
    He's swinging hell for leather, basically trying to knock me out but, his composure is quite poor, probably from lack of experience.
    Way easier than the bare knuckle dude.

    I move around, paw with a few jabs, back him up, get him on the ropes.
    He's obviously quite novice, despite being a brute, and my coach tells me to hit the body.

    So I plant this left in his ribs.
    He goes kind of weak after that.

    In between rounds, my coach gets up close and whispers in my ear, "listen, john. I want you to knock this guy out. He's trying to knock you out. What you're going to do now, is let go of some heavy shots, and knock him out. Alright?" - he gives it, raising his eyebrows to me.

    I'm not sure what to think.
    I hear of this happening at gyms sometimes but, I never really think it's fair.
    But, next round, I get him on the ropes again.
    Again, lack of experience, no ring craft, he's stood there, just covering up.

    I plant him to the body again.
    No response.

    His corner man steps in and says that's enough.
    I think he knows my corner just wanted me to brutalize him, and called time.

    And that's it.

    We get changed, crowd back into the van, drive the half hour back into town.
    We all crowd out again at the pikeys house.
    They ask me in for coffee or tea but, I tell them I better hit the road.

    "See you next week John", and that's it.

    To be honest, I was relieved to see my bike was still there.
    And I wasn't concerned about students taking it.
    I thought they, as in, the pikeys who owned the house, might cut the lock and have it stripped and sold for parts, all by the time we got back.

    Was all good though.

    Good to get back to training.
    Hope I can keep it up - i.e. the stimulants and drugs keep working.


    And for reading all that, for your troubles....



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    Quote Originally Posted by John Dunne View Post
    Pikeys - that's not derogatory term, is it?

    You know, these guys...



    I made a thread recently about stimulants but, it got removed.
    Well, the upshot of that is, I started taking them recently and, they give me some energy now.
    Before, I had very low energy.

    So, with this new found liveliness, I decided to return to some training.
    I used to box and wrestle and shit, so, in my locality, small town in the west, there's not a whole lot going on.
    Gotta go to Dublin to get the wrestling.

    But what, I found a newly opened boxing club nearby.

    Minced down yesterday evening.
    They put me through the paces and, the coach deemed me fit enough to attend their sparring session.

    So - first off.
    The coach was a pikey.
    All the boxers in the club were pikeys, sons, brothers, second cousins etc.
    But they seemed fairly chill.

    After the session, he gave me the directions to his house and, told me to meet him there at 6 the next day.

    So, following day, I go to the general locality and, I'm looking for the house. Having difficulty finding it though.
    I stop two girls, young'ish, student type, and ask them to confirm directions.

    "What house you looking for", one gives it.

    "He told me it had some big silver gates out front", I give it.

    "Oh yeah", they say in unison.

    "Just down there. There's pictures of horses mounted on the gates also" - they seem familiar with the house.

    I get there, chain my bike up, and go inside.

    There's about 15 or so folks sat around the telly.
    They have an aquarium - I kid you not. Not a motherfuckin' fish tank. I'm talking, one big ass aquarium, taking up the lower end of the room.
    The place is lavishly decorated, like a five star hotel or some shit.

    I park my ass down. There's some conversation. Their kids are screaming incessantly.
    I almost tell this one fat kid parked on a recliner that he should shut the fuck up and stop yelling for no apparent reason but, as I'm the guest, I figure I should keep things nice and reserved.

    Eventually, "we'll be on the way".

    We all mince out the front door and crowd ourselves into two vans that are parked out front.
    As we're getting in the vans, I question one of them as to whether my bike will be safe out front like that.

    "Oh yeah - don't worry", he gives it.
    "Some students tried to steal our bike once, but my father ran out and caught them. The first he, he knocked out with a left hook. Then, his girlfriend started screaming, so he laid her out with punch too".

    He said this, casual like, as if he was telling me his father had just gone out to get the papers or something.
    "Cool", I'm thinking.
    At least I know my bike is safe anyways.

    So we're in this van, on the way out to fuck-knows-where.
    Somewhere deep in the country side apparently.
    It is fucking hot - they have the heater on full blast.
    There's some conversation, but I can't understand a fucking word.
    It's all in pikey-dialect, that's seemingly not comprehensible to your average bloke.

    Eventually, we get to the place.
    This small ass boxing gym.

    We go inside. There's a ring, and the place is fucking PACKED.
    I don't know how many people but, you can just about move in there.

    Warm up, wraps and gloves on, and I'm first up for sparring.

    This big mean dude is stood across the ring from me.
    Must weight about.... pffff.... 88 or 90kgs or so?

    I'm a trim 78.

    We touch gloves and start sparring.
    Motherfuckers got a hard punch.
    I paw away with jabs from the outside and keep circling, keep my movement going.

    I blast him with a few nice hooks and straight rights.

    Being my first time back sparring in what, 2 years, we started with 3x3 min rounds.
    He caught me with a few nice shots but, I'm ate them and kept moving.
    Really felt it at the end. It takes a while for the fitness to adjust again.

    Hopped out.
    Heard later the guy was a former bare knuckle boxer in London. Quite experienced but, had a break and was just coming back to it now also.

    I shadow and the hit the bag for a while.

    Then, toward the end, there's this big lump of a young lad.
    Big ass arms on him, tattoo's etc.
    He looks mean so, I ask the coach, "maybe he'd be a good spar for me?".

    "Sure" - he gives it.

    I hear someone say he's not that experienced.
    I figure it might be an easier spar but, still a little nervous cause, he's an imposing looking motherfucker.

    Hop in the ring. Start sparring.
    He's swinging hell for leather, basically trying to knock me out but, his composure is quite poor, probably from lack of experience.
    Way easier than the bare knuckle dude.

    I move around, paw with a few jabs, back him up, get him on the ropes.
    He's obviously quite novice, despite being a brute, and my coach tells me to hit the body.

    So I plant this left in his ribs.
    He goes kind of weak after that.

    In between rounds, my coach gets up close and whispers in my ear, "listen, john. I want you to knock this guy out. He's trying to knock you out. What you're going to do now, is let go of some heavy shots, and knock him out. Alright?" - he gives it, raising his eyebrows to me.

    I'm not sure what to think.
    I hear of this happening at gyms sometimes but, I never really think it's fair.
    But, next round, I get him on the ropes again.
    Again, lack of experience, no ring craft, he's stood there, just covering up.

    I plant him to the body again.
    No response.

    His corner man steps in and says that's enough.
    I think he knows my corner just wanted me to brutalize him, and called time.

    And that's it.

    We get changed, crowd back into the van, drive the half hour back into town.
    We all crowd out again at the pikeys house.
    They ask me in for coffee or tea but, I tell them I better hit the road.

    "See you next week John", and that's it.

    To be honest, I was relieved to see my bike was still there.
    And I wasn't concerned about students taking it.
    I thought they, as in, the pikeys who owned the house, might cut the lock and have it stripped and sold for parts, all by the time we got back.

    Was all good though.

    Good to get back to training.
    Hope I can keep it up - i.e. the stimulants and drugs keep working.


    And for reading all that, for your troubles....


    That's a long ass story
    Pm me the name of the London BKB guy.
    I know all the knucklers in the uk and Ireland.
    James Mac is a personal friend of mine he fought Davey Joyce about 18 months ago (gloved) I gave him a lift back to the airport not a bother on him.

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