MORE THAN A GOOD LEFT HOOK
Growing up in our house, Monday and Friday evenings belonged to boxing.
Not to the fighters, mind you. They merely supplied the entertainment. The real contest took place in our living room, where my father and a few of his friends gathered around a ten-inch black-and-white television. Between them they consumed enough beer to improve every fighter's strategy from the safety of our living room.
The evening always began the same way.
"Look sharp... feel sharp... be sharp..."