I am highly adverse to getting involved in physical violence.  I won’t even high five someone without putting on a biking helmet first.

The other day I went running around Lake Merritt with a co-worker.  She’s 5’9” and likes to box recreationally.  She said, “I feel safer running in the evening when I have a running partner.” I said, “I sure hope you’re not talking about me.  You’re the boxer.  If a gang of muggers attacks us, the best I can hope for is to sweat and maybe bleed on them a little.  I’m looking to you to do some damage.”

However, now that I’ve seen Cinderella Man, I’m thinking that I’d probably be a pretty good boxer.  Because for someone who doesn’t like sports and boxing in particular, I’ve seen an awful lot of boxing movies.  Most of the Rocky flicks and that one that came out recently that made really not want to bite my tongue.

They all have the same training montages.  For example, there’s always a scene where the protagonist just stands around and hits that tiny little punching bag.  He or she looks all intense and just bashes at it. But it’s small.  I could totally hit that little punching bag over and over.

In Million Dollar Baby, that little punching bag was a big deal.  Hilary Swank wanted to hit it but it belonged to Dirty Harry so she couldn’t.  I was all, screw it. Go to a Party America! outlet and get yourself a good sized animal balloon. It’ll serve the same purpose.

Then there’s the scene where they jump rope.  What a bunch of sissies.  The only guys who ever jumped rope were the ones who were trying to impress the girls in elementary school.  I was one of those guys, come to think of it, but eventually I got tired of it and went to go play dodgeball, which was more fun even though I always got beaned in the head.

And then there’s the scene where the boxer goes up lots of stairs.  Big deal.  Have you ever noticed that people who use the Stairmaster in the gym are always the ones least interested in actually getting anything accomplished?  They trod slowly along, flipping through a magazine and wondering if they’ll get home in time to watch America’s Top Model. Their idea of breaking a threshold is burning through five calories.  Stairs are for losers.

So anyway, I’ve seen so many boxing training montages in the movies that now I think I’m probably too qualified to be a boxer.  I mean, I don’t want to hurt anyone.  So even though I could box, I think I won’t bother.  I’ll just stick to slap-n-tickle fights.