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By Cliff Rold - I guess I’m not a kid anymore.
I say I guess because I still feel like one sometimes and want to be one the rest of the time. I’m getting married this year, talking about buying a house, talking about Tre (my already chosen nickname for whenever Clifford Lee Rold III rolls around). It’s a lot of fun when it’s not intimidating.
Watching Erik Morales overcome all objections, including my own (and boy how wrong I was), to give David Diaz hell on earth last weekend, I remember that at least boxing will always bring out the awe in me. The fact that I got to watch it at the Caesar’s Sports book in Las Vegas, at my bachelor party, with the best group of friends a lifetime could collect even gave me a momentary reprieve from all this grown-folk stuff.
Still, there’s not enough shots or slots to change the facts. This week, I’m thirty years old.
Not thirty the way my Dad and Grandfather were, with three kids and a mortgage or the way my great-grandfather was with five kids and a farm. Still, thirty is thirty and I wouldn’t be a writer if that didn’t cause some reflection. In a boxing column, that means reflecting on the sport during the years I’ve been alive for it. [details]
I say I guess because I still feel like one sometimes and want to be one the rest of the time. I’m getting married this year, talking about buying a house, talking about Tre (my already chosen nickname for whenever Clifford Lee Rold III rolls around). It’s a lot of fun when it’s not intimidating.
Watching Erik Morales overcome all objections, including my own (and boy how wrong I was), to give David Diaz hell on earth last weekend, I remember that at least boxing will always bring out the awe in me. The fact that I got to watch it at the Caesar’s Sports book in Las Vegas, at my bachelor party, with the best group of friends a lifetime could collect even gave me a momentary reprieve from all this grown-folk stuff.
Still, there’s not enough shots or slots to change the facts. This week, I’m thirty years old.
Not thirty the way my Dad and Grandfather were, with three kids and a mortgage or the way my great-grandfather was with five kids and a farm. Still, thirty is thirty and I wouldn’t be a writer if that didn’t cause some reflection. In a boxing column, that means reflecting on the sport during the years I’ve been alive for it. [details]
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