I’m not usually one for boxing, but is it a name like Mike Tyson, and is it free on Netflix? Count me in with the other 280 million viewers. I don’t claim expertise, but I managed to pick the first-round winner—less puffy, red, and more composed. Seems like a solid strategy.
Round two was a fight between two Argentinian boxers: one in flashy pink and black frilled shorts, the other in forgettable colors. Naturally, I rooted for the guy in pink, who made an entrance flanked by three Mayan-inspired headscarf dancers. He started strong, even knocking the other guy down early. But then… the momentum shifted. Pink shorts started retreating, keeping his gloves high but not landing punches. Meanwhile, his opponent—backed by a family-owned gym and a better career record—was steady, calculated, and gaining ground. Okay, I might be switching sides.
The camera panned to Mike Tyson in the locker room, leather jacket on, looking incredibly fit for 58. Side note: how does he still look like he could throw a knockout punch?
Between rounds, I stole a few moments to dive back into my book, Into Thin Air. I’m 70 pages in, and it’s gripping. Mount Everest has always fascinated me—its treacherous climbs, its history, and the daring (sometimes reckless) adventurers. This book is a firsthand account of a disastrous expedition in which nearly half the crew didn’t make it back. Riveting but haunting.
Back in the ring, it’s round 11 of 12, and both boxers look worse for wear. Blood streaks their faces—one starting at the nose, the other with a matching crimson mask. I find myself wondering: shouldn’t there be a rule about stopping for blood? But no. In the break before the final round, both fighters had super-sized q-tips stuffed up their noses, soaking up fresh blood. Guess it’s just part of the game.
The fight ended in a split-draw: 114-112, 116-110, 113-113. Both men stood there, battered and bloated, trying to talk through swollen faces. Watching them was equal parts riveting and unsettling.
And then came the Taylor/Serrano fight. These two women were absolute warriors, trading punches like their lives depended on it. Serrano took a hit that left a cut bigger than any I’ve ever had in my life, yet she kept going all 12 rounds. When the fight ended, the dirtier fighter won. I disagreed, as did the crowd, but what a show of resilience and strength from both of them.
Up next: Mike Tyson. Better post this before I miss the action.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 