Discoveries of a Young Man Pt. 10

I knew the master plan was for Carlos to win, go on to challenge for the world champion belts down the line and be a real prospect. I knew that I was just a stepping stone in Carlos' mind. To me, this was all my boxing had accumulated to. It wasn't the biggest spectacle in the boxing world, nowhere close, but to me, to me personally, it was. It wasn't even about winning anymore, it was about fighting the fight, outboxing Carlos, and making a night out of it. I was guaranteed my money, but the doors a victory would unlock were untold. From what I had gathered online, I was an exciting fighter to watch. I knew I would be attractive if this went my way. The possibilities were endless if I defeated Carlos.

During the weigh-in and the face-off, neither of us said much. We were focused and locked in. Carlos was a true professional in that regard. I respected him for that. The influencer I had fought was cordial, but I couldn't call him serious. Some of the other folks on the different cards I had been on were also quite up in their own antics.

So then there I stood, ready to step out into the limelight and make the ringwalk when 'Phil Collins - In the Air Tonight' would start to play. Frank and Freya on one shoulder. Hope on the other.

As drums started playing I walked out, met with the cheer of the crowd. As they were all locals, and fans of the sport, a lot of them knew who I was. Long stone's throw from the meager welcoming I had gotten in my first fight. In just a few fights, I had a few thousand cheer me as I waved my glove at the crowd, making one of those cool slow jogs down the hundred yards toward the ring. I wasn't one to soak, but this was a big moment for me, so I took my time towards the ring. And besides, it was a good song.

As if with perfect timing, when Phil Collins sang 'I've been waiting for this moment for all my life' I made the steps, and with a last wave and cheer from the crowd, I ducked into the ring. I was shaking in anticipation by now, awaiting the final hour. But this was why we had placed Hope in my corner as well. We knew now my head could get all wrapped in itself, and her being here was just as much a coach as a mental reminder. Mel didn't want to, as she was worried she'd drag me out of there. Hope was more in a fighter's mentality in that respect. It was a dynamic we had learned to respect.

"You're doing great," Hope said, placing her hands on my shoulders so I would focus on her and not on either Carlos nor the crowd. "Remember, you're a champ. No matter what. There's no resistance you can't overcome."

We exchanged a small kiss, to the cheers of the few who had noticed, as Carlos started to make his way down. He looked impressive as always. He was a bit taller than me, and while I was more powerful and perhaps a bit faster on my feet, I knew he was a more natural light heavyweight. While I had taken my time to soak the moment in like a sponge, Carlos made his way at a decent pace, even nodding to me as he walked past me to join his corner.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen for your co-main event of the evening. Introducing our first contender, our local rising star fighting out of the blue corner, standing at 5 foot 7 with a 70-inch reach, weighing in at 175 lbs sharp, he's coming into this fight with a perfect record of 4 and 0, 3 of which coming by the way of knock out, Braaandooon 'No Answer' Langley!" the announcer yelled into the microphone, making me sound so cool and important, as the crowd cheered.

I turned to give a wave. But as he started on Carlos, I once again turned to Hope, who seemed to have something to say.

"You gonna take our name, or mom yours?" Hope asked. "When you get married?"

"I don't know. I was thinking yours, probably. Iocasta sounds cooler, and it was she who proposed, so I guess it makes sense," I replied.

"Would you two get a room, already?!" Freya said through gritted teeth, waving for Hope to get out as the fight was soon underway.

"We will. After. And feel free to join," Hope chuckled but made her way out regardless, so Freya could give me some final words.

"Alright. You need to box in this one. Last time, you fell asleep. Not this time. Pick your shots, duck, and chuck. He doesn't expect you to have a good jab, so use the jab. You've dropped him before, you can do it again," Freya said urgently. "See what he does, but don't give him anything. Don't be stupid, okay?"

I nodded, as the ref motioned for the corners to clear out. And so it was. I looked across to the very focused Carlos. He was locked in. The world shrunk down to just him and me. The bell went and Carlos immediately started to rotate to his left. He wasn't going to be the first to engage, instead, he held his left out to measure whatever I was doing.

Author's note: A bunch of boxing ahead.

Undeterred, I blitzed in. I ducked under his lightning-quick jab and threw my own to his gut. Carlos knew it before I did, and his left came down for a lead hook to my temple. Luckily, I was moving away from the shot, but I felt his quickness and it stung. I bolted back as his straight right shot above my head, and I clinched. Fuck. I think that was the first time I ever initialized the clinch.

"Break!" the ref called, and we did.

Carlos had won the exchange, but didn't seem too eager to do anything more about it. He stuck behind his jab, and everytime I tried he hit me with three shots on my way in, with only one of them missing. And just like that, the round was over. A bunch of feeling out, a few exchanges where Carlos obviously got the better of me.

"Bran. You're too predictable with your jab coming in. Feint it, double it, or move your head to the left, or pivot further to your right, but whatever you do, don't keep your head on the right side. He's sneaky, but he catches your timing everytime, and soon you gonna move into his left hook," Freya yelled as the loud music between rounds roared. "Jab, slip to your right instead, moving towards but under his left hook. Keep him guessing. Now get out there."

Freya had certainly found the hole in my attack. When the second round started, I saw he took a more aggressive approach. He jabbed, I ducked to my right, but instead of throwing a cross and moving my head where his left hook would catch it, I paused and took a small half-step to my right, seeing his fast hook shoot right in front of my eyes.

But with doubling up his left like that, he was completely open. So I threw a rear uppercut to his ribs, followed by a hook, and by the time he moved an elbow in the way and pivoted to make me eat his right, I had rolled to my left. Now his entire left side was open. Double-hook, then an overhand landing square on his chin. Carlos crumbled and keeled over.

I did it! I knocked him down! Already! This was going to be easy! Carlos beat the count, as he always did, being a true fighter through and through. But instead of letting me get another chance to knock him down, or out, he shelled up, pivoted, blocked and jabbed, doing everything to keep me at a distance.

"You got him on the ropes now," Freya said, during the one-minute break. She couldn't hide her excitement now. She saw the light piercing through the clouds. "Keep it mixed up. He has a good jab, but I think you can still make him tentative and hesitant. Never do the same thing twice coming in, or if you do, keep it varied enough so he never knows where to stick his defense. But remember to not exhaust yourself. This is eight rounds!"

But Carlos had learned from his mistakes. Instead of wallowing in self-pity like I had done against Lister, he listened to his team and cleaned up. He never once let me get inside again. He had tried to trade with me in the second round but learned that was not how to win this match. Every time I moved in, he'd bolt back, throwing fast, stinging uppercuts, lead hooks, and jabs. They weren't the hardest punches, but now it was enough to make me who was running out of ideas. I'd land a left hook, or a straight, or another power punch here and there, even a jab, but he'd meet every punch I threw with another two.

In the corner, between rounds, Freya tried to talk sense into me, but as soon as I tried to apply my instructions, it felt futile. I'd move to either side of my jab, but Carlos either found me or found a way to make me miss. He never applied too much pressure either. Discipline was his main talent, I quickly learned. When I didn't attack, trying to counter him, he was breaking the rhythm with his jab, and I more than once had to clinch just to get a break. Of course, I had my moments where I caught him good, but Carlos was able to situate himself and defend himself masterfully.

While I had won the second round, I felt fairly certain I had lost all the other rounds except that one. So as I sat on my stool before the 8th but final round, I was both tired and frustrated. Carlos was tired too, but he had only taken half the damage I'd taken. He displayed an intermediate course in boxing, to be honest.

I saw Freya think for a second before she spoke. Like she was contemplating how to get me going. No amount of tactics had worked, outboxing this guy was impossible for me. Not at this level, at least. But Freya seemed to find her appeal.

"This is it, Bran. You have to turn this around now. You're far behind so you know what to do, get this fucker outta here. You've boxed with this guy for some seven rounds, now it's time to turn this into a fight. You need to fuck him up and show him who's the strong one. I want you to go out there and show everyone who showed up tonight that Bran 'No Answer' Langley doesn't give up. That despite it looking like a loss right now, he turns it around! Just think about all the fourth places! How many times have you tried and done just enough? Settled for the middle ground while others went on to win? Think about every time someone picked you mid to last in the ball court! Think about how life is tough on the mediocre guy, but no matter what, this guy, you Bran, this guy doesn't give up! Come on Bran, fuck the strategy and go fuck him up!"

I knew it was true. We tried to box while I really should've turned it into a fight. It is perhaps weird to have admiration for someone who was severely beating you, but this was a masterclass of boxing, where Carlos showed the world, and me, how good he was, despite having faced the canvas earlier.

The ref urged Freya out of the ring and as I met Carlos again in the ring I didn't let time go to waste. Carlos went for his stinging jab and cross. I parried the first punch while rolling under the other. Carlos followed up with a lead hook. I jumped the line on which punches I usually threw in this position, instead I punched straight to the stomach, stunning him with the unexpected impact. I then pivoted to my left, making his hook-and-jab miss, and hooked him to the head and body. Carlos immediately clinched, panting in my ear.

"The fuck is this? Where this come from?" he gasped.

"Break!" The ref yelled, separating us.

I immediately went for a one-two, only I feinted my cross, ducked to my right, and again worked his body. He tried to throw an uppercut as I moved, but I used my feet to pull back and quickly pounced back in with another left hook followed by a hard overhand right. Carlos buckled and fell to one knee.

"Bran! He's fucked! Don't let him off!" I heard Freya yell.

Carlos met the count. I had to give it to him, he could really come back from barrages. I had seen it in the amateurs and in the second round. All heart. He was not only a good, slick boxer, but I saw in his face the heart of a champion as he gritted his teeth to meet the ref's count. But I knew time was of the essence to get this done. Three knockdowns or a knockout would be enough, despite how the match had gone up till now.

Carlos double-jabbed to keep me away, but I slipped left and right while pressing forward. He knew I smelled blood because he was already wrapping up my hands to clinch, but I threw my left hook and straight right before he got a hold of me. He stumbled back so I cut the ring off while I tried to give as many rear hooks to the body as possible. Carlos turned back the other way just so I could shove my left into his face. Carlos swung his right out and clocked me in the face. Now it was my turn to stumble back, but as Carlos stepped forward I ducked under his vicious left and fired off consecutive hooks to his kidney. Carlos for a second time went down!

"ONE MORE! ONE MORE!" I heard Freya yell excitedly.

After beating the count yet another time, I saw Carlos duck his chin low, mustering whatever strength he had left to stay up. I knew this was my moment, but I also knew he was picking up his faults as quickly as I exploited them. I feinted a jab and threw a left hook. Carlos stepped back and immediately shot forward with a stiff jab landing right above my eye. I caught his following right on my glove and was forced to clinch to ease off the pressure. As we broke I threw another left hook, this time followed by a rear uppercut. Carlos grunted but stumbled out of range, maintaining it with a sharp jab. Even now. Even now he had an amazing jab. And just like that the bell rang.

Even knocking him down twice in the last round, and winning the second round, I had a mental image of how the scorecard had gone. Not in my favor. But I wasn't sad. Nor unhappy. I was relieved it was over, despite it probably not going my way. Carlos had beat me fair and square, and honestly, he was a damn good boxer. I was downright proud to have been in the ring with him. I held no ill will towards him, after all, he brought me this opportunity in the first place. Going out with a bang like I did, was certainly icing on the cake, though. I knew I lost, but like the wise lady once said; I had already won. We had already won.

The ref took both Carlos' wrist and mine so we would hear the final scoring. I could hear him wince and pant all the way over here. At least I gave him a fight, even if it was too little too late. The announcer took his microphone and announced the final scores. I knew it was way closer on points than it really was. Carlos had dominated the fight.

"The judges scored the bout equal, 75 to 74, in favor of our victor tonight, and the still undefeated CARLOS FERNANDO GARCIA!"

I turned to give the victor a hug. "Well fought," he grunted as we disengaged.

But I wasn't done. In the spur of the moment, I quickly hoisted Carlos up in the air like Freya had done so many times before with me, and carried him around the ring for a victory lap, before plumping him down. I turned to my corner, more than ready to get my hands unwrapped and to get out of here. However, Carlos was busy himself with his own gloves, so I soon felt an unexpected arm wrap around me as the in-ring interviewer wanted some words from me it seemed.

"Bran 'No Answer' Langley. Carlos is drinking a well-deserved sip of water so we'll talk with you first. You brought it on in the last round, but it was sadly a bit too late. How do you feel? Do you have any thoughts?" he asked.

"I might not be the winner in this, nor perhaps in many things in life, and I might never be a world champion or anything, but I feel like a champ every day I come home to my beautiful family. I never expected any of this, but I do it for them. My girl and I are getting married soon, we just got a new house. Maybe I lost, but life is good. Carlos deserves this, and he'll hear it from me first; congratulations on the win," I said, hearing my voice echo against the arena.

The crowd immediately roared up, clapping like crazy as Carlos was coming over, so I grabbed his hand and held it up for the crowd. I could tell through the bruises he was happy, just perhaps in too much pain to utter it correctly. I gave him a few small claps as well before I turned away, ready to exit the boxing world for a little bit, and went over to Freya. I didn't wanna linger around, especially not steal any sort of moment from Carlos' well-earned victory, as I heard how the crowd responded to his victory.

"The fuck you doing?" Freya asked as I made to move out of the ring. "Wave?"

Just then did I realize it wasn't Carlos they applauded, but rather myself.

"What did I do?" I asked, perplexed. But Freya grabbed me at the shoulders and turned me back towards the crowd. I awkwardly waved at each side of the room before turning back to Freya. "Okay, let's get outta here."

*

I guess the clip of me hoisting up Carlos after losing, carrying him around, giving the little end speech there, and applauding his victory went slightly viral. Hope had shown me several clips of people adding all kinds of inspirational music. Maybe I should care more, but as I stood in our brand new kitchen a few days later, six in the morning, only something high-carb was on my mind.

I hadn't had Mel's delicious homemade pasta in half a year due to all the back-to-back boxing camps. But the last few days I had stuffed nothing but the most savory food in my face. And thank god Mel made copious amounts because if there's one thing I love it's the food she made. It tasted like the caring woman she was. It tasted like being taken care of. And lo and behold, a bowl of bolognese, sitting there waiting for me. I grabbed it and threw it in the microwave, eager to fill my stomach with it.

"You know what I've missed? These months?" an oh-so-familiar voice said behind me. I turned and saw Mel in her red silky robe, leaning against the open door frame. "You coming downstairs in the morning, all groggy and sleepy like now, and find yourself a plate of leftovers, humming satisfyingly as you savor the taste of the home-cooked meal I made you. Totally unprovoked, pure, and so instinctually enjoying something I made."

"I couldn't sleep," I excused.

"So you came down to eat food that I put effort into to make good, like some possessed beast," Mel concluded, smiling warmly, her eyes trailing to my naked chest. "I'm glad. I find it wholesome. Well, I'm going back to bed. I just wouldn't miss it."

My eyes never left her long legs, nor how the silky robe fell in between her cheeks, allowing just enough of a display of her curves. I couldn't help but smile as I knew that woman right there, and everything that came with her was mine.