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FROM COACH: I shot video in Dr.Faust’s room (illegal as it turns out) and the Doctor was a pretty good sport about it. The X-rays are screen grabs from the video. I will let Dr.Faust write about his visit.

DR.FAUST: Believe me friends, it is not so easy to explain what happened under the influence of 16 units of morphine. In short, I dislocated my shoulder during my fight, we could not get my shoulder back into the socket in the ring, and I had to go to SF General Hospital to have it put back into place. I was the only patient without a bullet in his body that Saturday night and I was all the more fortunate to encounter a very, very capable young doctor (I think her name was Dr. Rene Hsieh) who knew the trick how to put my wing back into place without having to use three Russian nurses pulling on one side and a bodybuilding doctor on the other side (which is what I went through when I dislocated my shoulder for the first time about one and half years ago. I’ll spare you the details of my first shoulder cracking experience, but just know that I had surgery to stabilize it - unfortunately, it did not seem to have stabilized it enough). Lessons learned: 1. Dr. Hsieh is my hero and the best doctor since Hippocrates; 2. Morphine is the best way to warm up for a boxing bootcamp after-party; 3. I am very privileged to be able to call some of the coolest people in the world my friends.

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FROM COACH: Dr.Faust looked so good! Beware, this video includes the first attempt to pop his shoulder back in place.

DR. FAUST: In rhetoric an anti-climax is an abrupt declension (either deliberate or unintended) on the part of a speaker or writer from the dignity of idea which he appeared to be aiming at; as in the following well-known distich: “The great Dalhousie, he, the god of war, Lieutenant-colonel to the earl of Mar.” An anticlimax can be intentionally employed only for a jocular or satiric purpose. It frequently partakes of the nature of antithesis, as—“Die and endow a college or a cat.” In Dr. Faust Land an anti-climax can also refer to the circumstance of going through six weeks of bootcamp craziness to prepare for a boxing match, and then making it about 90 seconds into the fight before dislocating one’s shoulder forcing the contender to quit the fight and to leave the startled opponent behind in the ring. Friends, I am sorry for the short display of my newly acquired boxing skills. I am afraid I am not in a position to return your entrance fees if you came to the fight. However, I’ll pay you a beer next time I see you and I’m also happy to take whatever verbal abuse you may have prepared for me by now. In the hope that you feel some kind of reconciliation by viewing the futile attempts of cracking my shoulder back into the socket in the above video, or by witnessing me trying to make sense of it all under the influence of 16 units of morphine, I remain faithfully yours, Dr.Faust.

FROM COACH: I had to share this photo I took of Dr.Faust and Mefisto watching Rocky and the explosion of belongings in my living room. Mefisto’s headband is the neck ribbing from his fight shirt.

DR.FAUST: I think I have to cancel all my plans for tonight, the last night before the fight. I am afraid I can’t watch Rocky XII to Rocky XXV with Mefisto and Coach Natalie as originally agreed. Instead, my bed seems to present the only viable option for me tonight. I have been feeling like a sorry excuse for myself all day and my mood is as foul as the San Francisco bay can smell on certain days. I guess my jump in the bay yesterday is taking its toll. But what about the fight tomorrow, one may wonder? Will Dr.Faust be fit enough to face his determined opponent (who by the way did not show up for training this morning)? No friends, I am not trying to lay the foundation for bailing out tomorrow, nor am I trying to provide lame excuses for my likely poor performance tomorrow. I am also not trying to artificially create a cliffhanger for dedicated followers of Haymaker. I just feel really sorry for myself and thought you might want to know. Also, in the event that you were planning on placing a bet on me winning my fight, you may want to reconsider.

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WEEK 6

FROM COACH: At breakfast, Simon reveals who Mefisto and Dr.Faust are fighting.

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WEEK 6

FROM COACH: Dr.Faust jumps, having missed only one class, and Jamal is forced to jump.

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WEEK 6

FROM COACH: Final fight poster revealed. Mefisto turned out looking pretty good and scary, Dr.Faust was stretched horizontally, making him look huge (and scary).

MEFISTO SAYS: I like to call this poster “Two world-class athletic specimens . . . and their family of genetic mutants.” I mean, really — we look like some sort of circus team of freaks and misfits, with these guys as our “trainers.”

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WEEK 4 

OK, I guess my How to Cook a Mouthpiece instructions of last week were a bit imcomplete. When you start this process, be sure to check first whether your former roommate or ex-significant other has ”accidently” robbed your kitchen of basic tools, such as a dipper, for otherwise you may wind up steaming your hands as you are trying to retrieve the melting mouthpiece.

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WEEK 4

FROM COACH: Everyone fighting in the final fight had their pictures taken for the poster.