Instead of a hug, I grab him by the nape of his neck and pull his forehead to mine.
I don't say anything as he takes a deep breath. I give him a moment to collect himself, to soak up this moment and do what he needs to do to mentally prepare himself. But I can't let him go without some kind of encouragement.
"This is your time, brother," I say quietly. "You were born for this. Every run, every training session, every fight has prepared you for this exact moment. You've been better than every guy in this division since you were a teenager. You know it, I know it, now everyone else needs to know it. Show them why the fuck you deserve to be here."
A heavy exhale escapes his lips. He gives a stiff nod, after which I see determination blaze in his eyes.
He gives me a quick hug and then turns to jog up the steps to enter the cage.
I circle the cage with the two coaches and settle into our respective seats, keeping one eye on the very large, very intense fighter that's currently eyeing Tristan from across the octagon. Tristan just paces around his space, keeping loose and completely ignoring his opponent for the time being.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to your first fight on tonight's Main Card! This is a middleweight bout at 185 pounds. Fighting out of the red corner, we have Kevin Holladay, a UFC veteran and Brazilian jiu-jitsu black belt..."
I zone out during the introductions, completely consumed by my nerves and wanting it to just get started. Everyone knows the nerves go away once the bell rings, and right now that's the only thing I'm waiting for.
After what feels like an eternity, the ref calls the two fighters to the center of the octagon to go over final rules and offer them the option to touch gloves. They do, and then separate to their individual corners.
"Are you ready?" the ref calls, and I swear I've stopped breathing.
"FIGHT!"
The air whooshes from my lungs at the sound of the bell.
Tristan bounds forward, intent on throwing the first punch, just like in every fight. An old Philly boxing coach once told us that the first person to step forward and throw will likely hold the momentum of the fight, and both of us have lived by that ever since.
Sure enough, Tristan holds the center of the cage, setting himself as the aggressor from the very start. He's always had a dominant fighting style but it's especially important in this fight—Holladay is a long-time veteran that's known for his endless gas tank and ability to scrap. If he's allowed to play his game, Tristan will be playing catch-up the whole fight.
So instead, we need to beat him to it and best him at his own game. Stay on him and always be the first and last to throw in an exchange.
Tristan immediately begins to initiate the game plan. He's on top of Holladay from the very first exchange, throwing combos every chance he gets and never waiting for Holladay to get off his heels. There are plenty of shots thrown—it’s not like Holladay is just sitting back and taking it—but it's still clear that Tristan has the edge on most of them. Even though they go back and forth with their strikes, the simple fact of the matter is that Tristan is both the first and the last one to land in most of the exchanges.
Tristan's default is boxing, though he manages to throw a few body kicks when Holladay tries to get away from his punches. The exchanges are constant—this fight is already much higher paced than most middleweight fights are. And it's all because Tristan isn't letting his opponent catch his breath long enough to become the aggressor.
Pride flares in my chest at the sight. It's no secret that Tristan is an underdog in this fight. He's a relatively unknown fighter in the very large world of MMA, and he's going against a guy that has triple the amount of fights that he has. Everyone else is expecting a green fighter that only took this fight because it was an easy way into the UFC. Which it is, because as long as Tristan puts on a good fight and doesn't get completely demolished, this likely won't be his only fight for the promotion.
But that's not how Tristan is fighting. If I knew nothing about their fighter stats, I'd say I'm watching two experienced, calm veterans go toe-to-toe in a technical battle. It's a great fight. Even without the sounds of the fans cheering throughout the arena, you can tell it's a highly entertaining bout. Everyone sitting around the cage is riveted by these two fighters.
Tristan holds the center of the cage and continually throws—and lands—more strikes than his opponent does. But with a minute left in the round, he finds an opening to fire a stiff combination straight to Holladay’s jaw.
The punches stun Holladay into stumbling back a few steps. It's exactly the opening that Tristan needed, and he wastes no time capitalizing on it. He immediately launches his own attack of strikes.
Unfortunately, he gets a little too excited in doing so. He wants so badly to win by finish that he rushes forward with a sloppy attack. When Holladay steps back and into the perfect range for a kick, Tristan rips a midline kick to the body.
Which Holladay immediately catches. He's too experienced, too much of a veteran, not to see the opening for what it is: a way to shift the tides in his favor in a round that he hasn’t been winning.
With the kick caught and Tristan standing on only one leg, he easily takes him down to the mat. I hear Coach let out a curse next to me, even as Tristan tries to immediately right his mistake by wrapping Holladay up in his guard.
The end of the round sees Holladay trying to do damage from his position on top, while Tristan tries to both minimize the impact and look for a way to his feet. The bell signals the end of the round.
Tristan's expression stays blank as he gets to his feet. It's so easy to curse yourself in a moment like this, but what people don't understand is that the judges see and weigh every single action of the fighters. If you act like you've lost, you'll be seen as a loser—act like you've won, and they'll see a winner. So instead of cursing, Tristan keeps his poker face and strides back to the corner for further instruction.
"Forget the end of that round," Coach immediately barks. He slaps Tristan across the face once to make sure he has his undivided attention, then launches into his instructions. "You're doing great with the pressure so I want you to stay on him just like you were doing. He's got nothing for you as long as we keep him on his heels. But you need to lay off the body kicks because he's going to get desperate soon and start looking for the takedown. So keep the pressure, keep the combos, but stay long and don't let him take you down. This isyour fight.Yourvictory.Take itfrom him."
I watch as Coach’s words hit their mark, Tristan’s eyes blazing with determination as he gives a firm nod.
He’s barely breathing hard by the time Coach finishes his instructions. The fact that he took this fight on two weeks’ notice is amazing in itself, but it's even more impressive that he's not even winded right now. It's truly a testament to his work ethic and no-days-off training regimen that he's doing so well physically right now.
"You got this, brother," I choke out, pride almost causing the words to get stuck in my throat.