Enough with all this pencil neck material! Instead, let me take your readers into the den of bare-knuckle boxing.

Here I am again, potless and in need of some hard cash and there is a hard-faced bastard challenging all comers for a straightener at the local fair and its a 100 quid for the winner.

Hmm, well he doesn’t look that big and I have never lost yet so I saunter over to the promoter and ask the rules. I’m promptly informed: no biting gouging or kicking and that’s it sonny.

OK, I will give it a shot – 100 quid 20 years ago was a nice little tickle for a nineteen-year old so we square off; no shaking of hands, nothing. However, the crowd is now getting a bit raucous. Fear reaches down and gives my gonads a tight squeeze and I fly into him with two or three short stepping jabs with my right hand, the first two don’t connect but he’s backing up fast and the third drops onto his chin with 16 stones behind it; just like Jack Dempsey says in his manual: put all your falling weight behind a jab and it becomes a show stopper.

The chap is wobbling bad and trying to cover his bounce but leaves his chest open for the reverse punch to the sternum. Whooosh – he flies backward into the side of a caravan and it’s over and I haven’t even hurt my knuckles. Now that’s what I call a devastating opening repertoire which pretty much always works unless they happen to be a UFC veteran. Fortunately, wrestling is dissuaded by the Tote with a large bat.

NAMASTE,

Jez Carpenter

SILMAN REPLIES:
Dear Jez,

My site gets more than its share of hate mail and insane ranting (Only I am allowed to insanely rant!), but you’ve been after me with a hammer and tongs for quite a while. Then, just when I was going to fly over to jolly old England (or the Ozarks – not sure where you live now) and take your moonshine away, you come up with the brilliant piece above and turn me into a fan.

Quite simply: a reader can hate me, praise me, or torment me, but if he can write with panache then I’m a happy camper!

Unfortunately, most of the hate mail I get (which is apparently written by mean-spirited people with 3rd grade educations) brings to mind one of my favorite movie quotes: “You appear to be intelligent, but every time you open your mouth you spoil the effect!”

Jez, thanks for the letter, you painted quite a picture!

Jeremy