By David Berry: The dust is settling on the biggest event in boxing history, with the anticipation of a Floyd Mayweather vs. Manny Pacquiao showdown clearly in our rearview. Five plus years of anticipation culminated in a 12 round world title unification bout on Saturday night at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. And one thing is certain – the answer regarding which talent was the best of his era was emphatically answered on Saturday night. It was, and is, Floyd Mayweather.
This week, I “celebrate” the 12 year anniversary of a car accident that nearly claimed my life. I’ve reposted this story on the anniversary of the accident, and made some improvements along the way, each of the past sevenyears. Each time, it’s a fresh reminder of my “miracle.”
No matter how I lead up to this or what you read in my story, it’s going to seem like I’m being dramatic, but I’m pretty sure the story does that itself. To say that night changed the course of my life would be an understatement. It gave me the courage to leave for South Florida a year later and, eventually, put into me a fervor and appreciation for life that I try to hold onto daily.
I’ve copied and pasted a story that I wrote for a class several years ago about that night. For one, maybe you’ll read it and learn something significant that you didn’t know about me, and two, I rarely get personal on my blog and this is one of those rare instances.
By the time I was 16, I had learned that there was a meaning behind each of the looks that appeared on my mother’s face. She’d always been animated that way, and needless to say, she’d have a rough go at a poker game.
I’ve called my mother every night on my way home from work for the past 10 years. This day was no different. The anticipation I often felt, though, had been replaced with an ominous feeling the past several months. Each night, I was also hearing an update on the health of my ailing grandmother, who had been fighting a losing battle with kidney cancer since August.
I knew bad news was a possibility. I prepared myself for it. And as I drove south on I-95 on a warm November night in South Florida, I received it.
That day, I shared a Bible verse with them about love. Typically, explaining love is a mostly fruitless venture, but at least when you use words from the good book, you’ve at least got 2,000 years of street cred at your back.
After all, I had just become the first college graduate in my family, and I’d landed an entry-level job doing search marketing for a boss-level salary of $30K. I could practically smell retirement.
My ego was bigger than Kanye’s, too, because I’d pulled it all off by the age of 21. Aren’t you impressed?
This week, I “celebrate” the 11 year anniversary of a car accident that nearly claimed my life. I’ve reposted this story on the anniversary of the accident, and made some improvements along the way, each of the past six years. Each time, it’s a fresh reminder of my “miracle.”
And I’ve seen a lot of it – I’ve lived in the Fontainebleau area that borders Doral(zuela), lived on the edge of the Everglades, bounced over to Coconut Grove, then Coral Gables, then Little Havana (yes, a theoretical step back), then Brickell and finally, now in Miami Beach. I know a healthy dose of Cuban Spanish, and I can take you from El Pub on Calle Ocho to Randazzo’s Little Italy and Miccosukee without batting an eye.
My own experiences qualify me as “lucky” by that standard. I got good grades, covered a lifetime of years in experiences and for a couple of years during and after school, I lived in an unofficial frat house with two of my official ‘frat bros’ and one hilarious, broken-English-speaking Puerto Rican whom we met through Roommates.com.
I’ve done all I can to avoid the gratuitous moments of self-reflection that are popping up as I march toward the milestone that is my 30th birthday, but it’s been a losing battle. Every 20-something has a list of things – written or mentally logged – that they expect to check off before the clock hits 30. And I’m thankful to say that I hit all of those when I was 28. I became a homeowner. I took on a great job. I drive a nice car, and I have the only friendships I’ll truly ever need. Right now, it feels like I’ve hit a homerun and I’m marching slowly toward 1st base, admiring the shot and soaking it all in.