I’ve been preparing for this day all year. I’ve subjected myself to ask sorts of punishing, brutal physical regimes. I’ve been on high protein, low carb diets. I’ve been pushing myself harder than ever before.
I’ve run marathons and jogged up steep hills. I’ve lifted weights and swam length after length. I’ve stuck to strict exercise schedules to become stronger and harder and better. I’m at peak physical condition.
I’ve studied martial arts and the psychology of battle. I’ve watched every key match from the past 50 years and studied all the signature moves. I’ve donned my gloves and bitten down on my mouthguard.
I’m finally ready.
So imagine my surprise when it turns out Boxing Day is named for the tradition of boxing up presents for one’s servants and not because there’s a free-for-all boxing match in the streets with the winner crowned Monarch of Christmas.
Oh well, back to the pizzas.