So there I was: a pimply high school kid, sparring with my black-belt Tae-Kwon-Do instructor. He telegraphed a spinning side kick just to see how a rookie orange belt would react. I tried to dodge the assault, but I slipped in the perspiration on the sparring mat. To catch my balance I flung my arms out -- leaving me wide open precisely at the moment when my instructor's high-velocity heel made contact with my chin. My head snapped back, I collapsed to the floor, and I just laid there.
My instructor jumped to my side, anxious and nervous that he'd done serious harm, and said, "Sean, How many fingers am I holding up?"
I tried to focus my vision but couldn't, so I replied, "Why, don't you know?"
He just shook his head, announced I would be fine, and walked away.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment