When I was a young child, we would occasionally gather apples from a farmer’s garden without his knowledge.

The farmer, who was around 70 years old, had a small and delicate frame. On occasions, he would attempt to chase us, but due to his slower pace, we were always able to outdistance him.

On a specific day, a group of around six of us engaged in a mischievous adventure.

As usual, we sprinted away, filled with laughter. However, unfortunate luck struck when one of our companions stumbled, resulting in the farmer capturing him.

The farmer administered a customary reprimand to my friend, reminiscent of the practices from the 1970s, by lightly tapping his ear.

Little did the farmer know, this young lad’s father happened to be a semi-professional rugby league player and a respected figure in the community.

We hurriedly gathered to fetch the young boy’s father, and together we came back as a group. The little boy was visibly upset, with tears streaming down his face, while his dad displayed a flushed complexion due to anger.

Facing the old farmer, the boy’s father stood significantly taller, with arms adorned in tattoos resembling thick logs. Unexpectedly, in the blink of an eye, the elderly gentleman delivered a swift punch that landed squarely on the giant’s jaw.

Our hopeful protagonist was swiftly knocked to the ground, rendered unconscious. It felt unimaginable, almost dreamlike, and had I possessed the vocabulary at that time, I would have described it as surreal.

During our family dinner that evening, I shared the tale with my dad. Surprisingly, it came to light that the elderly gentleman was the esteemed Royal Navy featherweight champion during World War II.

According to the legends passed down, he engaged in a friendly boxing match on a battleship in the Pacific, forging a bond between the naval services of the Allied forces. It is often said that a skilled boxer retains their formidable striking abilities throughout their lifetime.