I was hoping she would stick around after my fight so I could talk to her for a minute. My mind was far away, focused on Anna, when I heard Artie trying to get my attention.
“I need you to focus,” Artie said, snapping me back to reality. “Let’s talk strategy before you get out there.”
I nodded my head because there was no point in trying to talk with my mouth piece in. I would have had to remove it in order to form any coherent sentences.
“This guy should be a walk in the park for you. All you need to do is watch for when he puts his guard down and then hit him high. You’ll get a KO for sure,” he said.
I studied my opponent for a minute. Artie was right. He had been in this business for a long time. I always trusted his judgment in the cage. I had to. I knew there was no way I would ever win a fight without him as my coach. I nodded my head again to show Artie that I understood him and was going to follow his advice.
The bell rang, and I turned my attention to my opponent. He was about my height but didn’t seem to have as much muscle mass as me. We bounced around in a circle in the middle of the cage, dancing in and out of each other’s reach. I don’t know how long we played with each other before he aimed for my face. I blocked it easily, but then he got me in the ribs. I told myself that wouldn’t happen again.
It didn’t hurt that bad. The guy didn’t hit too hard, which showed me his weakness. I aimed for his ribs with my left fist as a distraction. When he ducked, I hit him in the cheek with my right fist. I was good at this because I always made sure to be one step ahead of my opponent.
He got me in my stomach, again. Still not as hard as you would think for a fighter. I had been hit harder by my friends. My confidence soared.
I led him around in a circle and blocked a few more shots. I aimed for his stomach and ribs. He blocked them, but that was my intention. I was playing with the guy, trying to wear him out. He was playing right into my plan. He aimed for my ribs a couple more times, and got one in, but I blocked most of them.
When the bell for the third round rang, I could tell this guy was exhausted. It was perfect. This was exactly where I wanted him. Worn and unable to predict my next move. I hit him with a right hook and then an upper cut. That was all it took. He fell to the ground, hitting the mat hard.
The ref went over to him and counted to three. When my opponent didn’t get back up, the ref called it a KO. He announced me as the winner. Talk about an ego boost. Adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, and I felt invincible.
With the fight over, I tuned back in to the noise around me. The crowd was going wild.
“JUSTIN! JUSTIN! JUSTIN!” they chanted and cheered.
It didn’t matter if it was an easy fight or a tough one; every win felt just as amazing as the previous one. I loved it. The surge of energy that came with winning always felt amazing.
When I first started out, I didn’t know how good I was going to be. But as I started to master my moves, I quickly learned I was a great fighter. It had a lot to do with my amazing coach and the fact that I fought to support myself and my daughter. She had been a huge motivator for me to become as good as possible.
I removed my mouth piece and grinned at the crowd. Throwing my fist in the air, I yelled, “Hell yeah!” to the crowd. The cheers grew even louder.
Artie handed me my towel and water bottle. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and took a sip of water. We stepped out of the cage, and I high fived a few of the fans as Artie and I made our way back to my changing room. I needed to take a quick breather before I got changed.
“That was a good fight, kid. You KO’d the guy, and now you’re moving on. I’m proud of you, but…” he paused.
There was always a “but” with him. It was almost like he had to think of something negative whether I won or lost. He had to point out my weaknesses.
“Your form right before you knocked him out was weak. Your stance needs to be strong in case he comes back with a good hit. You don’t want to lose your balance. You need to keep your form tight. It’s only going to get harder from here on out. You have to keep that in mind,” he said.
I knew what he was talking about. “Thanks, Artie. I’ll remember that next time,” I said. He was right, after all. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down in the cage.
“And don’t forget to include more of your submissive wrestling moves. You can get them to tap out faster that way. You’re quick and good at it. Use it to your advantage. Keep your repertoire of moves in your mind at all times. They are your weapons.”
I nodded my head. I just wanted the lecture to end. He sure did know how to kill my good mood. I didn’t have much time to celebrate, ever. And it sucked. I wished I could have more time with the crowd to show them I loved to have a good time too and that I appreciated their support. I wanted more time to soak up the intoxicating energy that always came after a win. I wished Artie would save his lectures
for the following practice. I wished he could let me have my moment.
“I can’t wait to tell Margie about the fight. She’s going to be so excited that I won,” I said.
“I bet her eyes will light up just like yours do right before you get in the cage,” Artie said with a smile. I agreed with him. My daughter, Margie, and I had the same eyes. She had her mother’s smile though.
It was still hard to think about Tammy. Even after four years, I still struggled to pay off the medical bills from when she died. And the guilt I carried around about my daughter not having her mother was insurmountable. More than anything, I hoped Margie wouldn’t take it on throughout her life. Her mom passed away while giving birth to her. They had tried everything to save Tammy, but they had to focus on Margie. They had to make sure they got her out safely. She was only four now and didn’t fully understand what happened. It was the best, most heartbreaking day of my entire life.
I wanted nothing more than to give Margie a great life. To be there for her and support her in everything she chose do. But it was hard. I was still dealing with the emotions of my wife’s passing and not to mention the pile of bills that threatened our way of living every single day. It was the whole reason I started fighting. Paying off those medical bills and giving Margie the life she deserved was my sole focus. I wanted my daughter to have the life I didn’t have as a kid. My parents weren’t poor, but we struggled. And that wasn’t the life I wanted for my daughter.
“You get home safe and rest up. I need you fresh in the gym on Monday,” Artie said while grabbing his stuff.
“Will do, sir,” I said.