The Art of Spar

In case you've never experienced the thrill of martial arts sparring, let me describe it to you based on my own first experience:
Punch. Miss.
Punch. Miss.
Punch punch (a combination!). Miss miss.
Punch. Miss.
WHAP!
Brain rattles inside head.
(Thought:)Where the hell did that come from?
And so on.
This was not the plan. My art is Jeet Kune Do: the way of the intercepting fist. If someone throws a punch at me, Sifu Dino says, the proper response is “Thank you for giving me the opportunity to hit you!”
And to hit him first.
Instead, it seemed as if my arms had suddenly grown shorter. Try as I might, I could not reach my opponent, Sergeant Steve.
Ha, he seemed to say, as he swatted my efforts aside - sometimes with this hand, sometimes with that one - or simply leaned slightly back to render them impotent. Puzzled but undaunted, I kept trying again.
WHAP!
I should mention we were both wearing headgear, which, as I discovered, seemed to function primarily not to cushion the blow but to spread the force around and amplify sound. In my mouth was a plastic piece designed to protect my teeth and keep me from biting off my tongue but which also made it next to impossible to swallow so my mouth filled with saliva and I felt like it was about to drool all over...
WHAP!
Geez.
Don’t get me wrong. Over the course of two opponents, I am dimly aware that I landed a punch or two of my own. But had either contest been a real confrontation I would probably have been a TKO victim at best. Which, the optimist in me says, just goes to show how much room there is for self-esteem-building improvement.
My next opportunity comes in two days. Maybe by then, my jaw will have returned to its proper alignment.