AIBA! AIBA! Ándale!

So, the AIBA (Amateur International Boxing Association) volunteering for the World Championships was, in a word, fascinating.

The first night, it was a little chaotic because there had been an enormous storm system that blew through Chicago the day before, and all of the teams flying in got delayed, so the practice schedule was off. So, teams were showing up that didn't have rings scheduled, etc. And, I don't know if you know this...but boxers tend to like to ...um...fight. You don't want gatherings of huge angry groups.

Actually, they were great, but I did hear some raised voices in languages I can't begin to guess at. However, by the second night they really had it together. I was impressed.

And here are the teams I am rooting for, in no particular order...because you kind of have to choose sides, don't you?

Turkey, Ireland, Egypt, Sweden, and Croatia...and of course the US. But I didn't get to see them practice.

Turkey was incredibly polite. The coach was incredibly nice, and the boys were respectful.
Ireland kept setting up sparring with everyone, so their rings were like a party, and always full of people, which was really exciting. Plus they called me lass when I brought them towels.
Sweden, because they had a rocking soundtrack...and um, interestingly not a blonde in the bunch.
Croatia, because they all went out of their way to thank me, and one guy on the team I seriously thought was going to kiss me on the cheeks or something, and I just kind of froze because I wasn't sure what to do until he started laughing and lifted my hat. Oh, cultural/language barrier...you had me at Hola, Bonjour, Top of the morning.
And, then Egypt, they were quite the flirts, but also had to lose major weight in the few days before weigh in in order to compete. Poor guys were running around dressed up like they were in a blizzard and the gym was a sauna. I related.

Also, we got to see them do some really cool training things.

Okay, first of all, it's just like Rocky. Only less, um...old.

One guy did a million somersaults in a row and then would jump up and try to shadow box to maintain his equilibrium.
One team hit tennisballs at their guy and made him dodge them. Okay, maybe not cool so much as bizarre and fascinating.
And, they really do do push ups on their knuckles. And jump rope. And punching bag ducking, and lots of running.

Plus, there was some nakedness. They had these scales set up and I kept turning corners and coming across naked guys. I don't get the impression that they really cared, as they are in the best shape of their lives. But, I still felt like a giant perv...and signed up for more shifts, immediately.

Just kidding. I couldn't. They were full.

There was also a lot of spit. That part was not so much awesome...because it didn't always end up in the jars. But, it comes with the territory.

But, more than anything, you do feel that you really are in the presence of greatness. These guys, many of them, are...or are going to be...Olympians.

So, if you can, go to the bouts. It's going to be amazing. I can't wait.