My Mother Requested That I Punch You Out…

I pulled my S14 into a dimly lit gas station. The sweet smell of coolant stung my nose and the heat of an overworked SR20 slamed into my neck and face as I lifted my hood in disgust.

‘272 cams were a bad choice.’ I thought to myself as I walked towards the stations bathroom to fill my coolant bottle with water.

As I filled my gurgling radiator with water, a car that I had heard pass by already approached and pulled into the station.

“Hey, what kind of car is that?” A voice with a South African accent questioned.

“It’s a 240sx I replied.”

Usually my response would be met with ‘Oh cool I have a Eclipse I’m trying to hook up.’ or something similar. But what ensued was a surprisingly pleasant conversation with what turned out to be one of my best friends, Punch Maleka.

“Wait…what is your name?” I asked already embarrassed that I was skeptical that someone so calm and friendly could have such a cool and menacing first name.

His name was Punch, a man gifted with many talents.

It has been years since that night on a road I never take home from work, at a time I am usually elsewhere, that I ran into Punch, yet he never stops surprising me. He is an excellent tennis professional, he makes music, DJ’s, and is making his way into Motorsports as a hobby. But one of his skills that I admire the most he is quietest about, his art. As far as I know Punch has had no artistic instruction. But his renderings are better than many of the people I attended art school with. I was browsing a few of his drawings and was inspired to share.

Talent in the raw.

Check out some of Punch’s albums and singles here:

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