I raised my guard and threw a jab, testing him. It bounced harmlessly off of his raised arms so I threw another and then a right, doing my best to create some pressure but still taking care to protect myself. An opponent like Marcos Valentino would lay me out if I gave him half a chance, and I just couldn't let that happen. The crowd's roar was deafening, even though the match had just started.
Valentino threw a punch- I caught it on my guard I flinched a little, amazed at the sheer power behind it. He sensed the opening and threw a straight- low, at my body, and it made solid impact. I staggered back a step as he threw another- I blocked it, but in doing so I gave him another opening. He threw a jab at my face and my head swung to the side with the impact. I did my best to roll with it and threw a jab of my own, and then another, and another. I was clearly outclassed- a punk brawler like me statistically had almost no chance of beating Valentino, it simply wasn't a fair fight. But... I didn't really have any other options. I thought of my sister, sitting ringside and cheering for me, and I stepped in and threw my most powerful hook. He couldn't have been expecting it because I made solid contact with his ribs, and it was his turn to step back. I chased him and swung again and again- some of my strikes bounced off of his guard, but others made it through. He got a few good hits in as well. We went back and forth, and by the time the first bell rang my breathing had become fast and heavy. I returned to my corner, doing my best to walk in a straight line, and sat on the stool.
"That was a good first round, kid," Coach said. "You scared him a little- he's good at hitting but not great at getting hit. He's gonna try for a knockout, and he'll get one if you don't knock him out first."
I grunted and opened my mouth, and he sprayed some water in. My cut man put that familiar cream above my left eye to stop it from bleeding, and the referee gave the signal for seconds to exit the ring. I stood and jogged back to the middle, and the bell rang for round two.
Valentino rushed in this time. He opened up with a barrage of punches, and I found myself struggling to block them all. Blows rained down on my arms and occasionally on my body, but I saw his hook coming. I ducked at the last second and he swung over me, and I threw the heaviest uppercut I could manage in response. Off balance and with no guard he had left himself essentially defenseless to my counter, and his body arched as I hit him in the ribs with all of my might. He doubled over and I threw a heavy left at his face, but it was my turn to throw a punch too wide.
When my fist reached where his face had been it had already moved, and before I could react he threw a second hook, high. My vision exploded into stars as he hit the side of my head and I spun to the canvas, delirious with pain.
I stayed down for a second and tried to focus my eyes, but rolled over onto my stomach when I realized the official was standing over me and counting.
"Six!"
I forced myself to kneel.
"Seven!"
I forced myself to my feet.
"Eight!"
I steadied myself and raised my fist. The official peered at me eyes and raised his finger, screening for head trauma. "Can you continue?"
I nodded.
"Fight!"
I stepped back in, albeit more carefully this time. I didn't get to throw a punch though; the bell rang and I staggered back to my corner.
"If you're gonna take those hits you gotta hit him back, kid!" Coach said to me. My cut man worked on my face, and Coach rubbed my legs. "Good job with that uppercut. You can take more of those big hits than him, but he's just faster than you are. You have to keep the pressure on him, keep hitting him!"
The fight continued in much the same fashion. I threw as many body blows as I could and took a few big hits, but nobody was knocked down until the sixth round. I had nobody to blame but myself.
Valentino ducked a hook and threw an uppercut, but I managed to catch it on the bone of my elbow. I caught his grimace if pain and snarled a wicked smile; his punch had been so powerful that he had hurt himself a little on the impact with the bone of the joint. A generally frowned-upon tactic, maybe, but a perfectly legal one. Emboldened, I swung wide once again, but once again he ducked my punch. He threw a wicked hook and hit me in the liver, and I doubled over despite myself. I knew what would happen the instant he threw it, but what could I do? His uppercut hit me square in the chin, and the force knocked my mouth guard out of my mouth. My feet actually left the ground, and I landed flat on my back. I didn't actually lose consciousness, but my legs didn't seem to work.
Terrified the official would stop the fight I struggled to roll over, and I grasped at the ropes to help me stand. Somehow I managed to pull myself up, and I raised my fist. I couldn't see out of my left eye, and my ears rang.
The official looked me over. "Can you continue?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"If your eye bleeds any more I'm going to stop the fight," the official said.
He gave the word to fight, and I staggered towards Valentino.
...I didn't have a chance. My legs wouldn't work right, and I couldn't move out of the way of any of his punches. He spent the rest of the round beating on me; cautious of the few counter punches I threw, but never exactly relenting. When the bell rang I barely made it all the way to the corner before my legs gave out.
"You need a knockout, kid," Coach said. My cut man worked on my eye, and I gasped for air.
"You're not gonna last too much longer, but neither is he. You need that one good hit!"
"I... I don't think... I can't do it, Coach," I panted.
Coach frowned. "You want to quit? We can throw in the towel if that's what you want."
I sucked in air. Did I want to quit? I thought of my sister. How could I explain myself to her if I gave up? No, we needed the money. I needed Valentino's belt.
"I can fight, Coach," I said.
"Good. Do what you do best. Body blows, wait until his head comes down, and then let him have it!"
The bell rang for round seven, and I raised my guard. Valentino closed in slowly, but I gathered my strength and dashed in before he reached me. I caught him by surprise with my first punches, and I threw so many so fast that he couldn't find an opening to hit back. He stepped back until his back was against the ropes, and with all the strength left in me I hit him and hit him. He favored his face so I rained blows down on his body, as hard as I possibly could. I wouldn't be able to keep it up forever, but I wouldn't have to.
Valentino managed to slip away to the right and he threw a jab at me; it wasn't until it hit my guard that I realized exactly how drained I was. Valentino must have realized it too. He stepped in and threw a straight, and then a hook. I tried to duck but my legs wouldn't take me all the way down- his punch hit the top of my head. It hurt, but it would have been much worse. I threw an uppercut, but whatever spark I had had faded. The punch slid off of his guard and he struck me squarely in the chin. I fell to the ground for the third time and I think I blacked out, but just for a second...
The official ended the match. He said it was "unsafe" for me to continue fighting. Coach helped me out of the ring, and my sister drove me home.
"Maybe..." She said as we stopped at a red light. "Maybe you should take a break from boxing."
I frowned as I gazed out the window, watching cars blow past on the other side. No. No, I couldn't do that. I was so close, I could have won. I would give it a week and then train harder than ever before. Nobody stays at the top forever, after all. Valentino's title would be mine someday. I would just have to fight even harder.
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