Boxers Of Westwood Poem by Randy McClave

Decades ago my brother and I trained to fight
Now coaching younger Boxers is our delight,
Jumping jacks and push-ups they now do every night
Then in the ring they are taught to lead with a left or a right.
We teach as in life that a Boxer never quits
So, on the bags for rounds they firmly throw their hits,
They are disciplined and trained, so not to have angry fits
Especially when they work out, or work upon the punch mitts.
Derrick and Trey and Austin are always there to train
Along with Stephen, Jennifer and Blake who never complain,
But, sometimes Ian must whine about the pain
While old man Hanshaw, sits as a king who does reign.
Brian tells the Boxers what exercises that they must do
While screaming one more round, and they'll be through,
This type of training or promising is not really new
Decades ago, my brother and I was trained the same way too.
Some day soon these Boxers will all step into the ring
We will then tell them to go out and do their thing,
But, do not hold up your elbows like a chicken wing
Then they'll be ready each round when the bell does ding.
We know what we can, and also not what we could
With gladiators we once all have proudly and gallantly stood,
We might not be the best, but we are better than good
We are the coaches and the fighters, of old Westwood.

Randy L. McClave