I hated being a lumberjack; those shirts itch something awful. And I was a failure as a boxer, too. I was what's known in the fight game as a crier; whenever I got hit, I'd burst into tears. They'd work on me feverishly between rounds, but they could never stanch the flow. [Kenrick was never a logger nor a prize-fighter; this is a typical example of his humor, and very typical of the humor he writes for his narrator characters.]