The Daddy Box Set
“You’re going to do great, Daddy. Don’t worry,” she promised.
Friday night’s fight was in a bigger arena than usual. My nerves were already on edge since I knew Anna wouldn’t be there, but being in a bigger, more unfamiliar arena only made me more anxious.
With the arena being so much larger, there were at least twice as many people in the crowd. I noticed a lot of them were cheering for my opponent rather than for me. This was the opposite of what I was used to, and I didn’t know how to feel.
What Margie said to me before I left should have been enough to calm me down, but for some reason, I just couldn’t seem to relax. Each fight was a little more intense than the last, and I knew I wouldn’t have been so nervous if wasn’t for Markie and the new bet I made with him.
My opponent was about my size. Even though I could usually nail these fights, he had this crazy look in his eyes. It was a look that said he’d been through some serious shit in his life, shit that made him view the world as a dark, violent place. He probably only joined MMA so he could legally hurt people. Fighters like him were unpredictable, and that is what made them so formidable.
I felt intimidated. It was hard for me to feel any other way. No matter how hard I tried to push those negative feelings away, they just kept returning stronger than ever.
“You have got to stay focused, Justin,” Artie said.
“I know, I know,” I said. I hoped my fake confidence was believable. I couldn’t let him sense my fear. He would know I wasn’t focused and his lectures would only serve to further my fear. I was already distracted enough.
I knew Anna said she wouldn’t be able to make it, but I glanced around the crowd anyway, just hoping she would surprise me with her presence. I couldn’t help the disappointment I felt when I couldn’t find her face in the crowd.
“You got this, Justin,” Artie assured me. I knew he was trying to make me feel better. He was trying to give me the confidence boost I desperately nee
ded, but his words didn’t help. I didn’t feel confident or ready. In fact, I didn’t feel like I had any chance of winning.
I stepped into the middle of the ring. Sweat was already forming on my forehead. It could have been from the lights, but I was sure it was from fear. The sight of my perspiration only made my opponent get an even crazier look in his eyes. He eyed me like a piece of meat ready for slaughter.
We touched gloves, and the first bell rang. I eyed him closely but knew he was doing the same thing. I threw a right hook. It was weak, and I completely missed the guy. To make up for it, I threw a left hook and then aimed for his ribs. I missed both shots.
Just as I was beginning to realize what was going on, the guy hit me in the ribs. The hit was so hard that I failed to regain my footing before he could hit me again. The guy jumped on me and took me to the ground.
The bell rang, letting us know the round was over. My opponent released me. We got off the floor and got ready for the next round. I was thankful that the round ended when it did. Things could have taken a turn for the worst had it gone on any longer.
I went over to my corner and grabbed my water bottle to get a quick drink. Before the bottle was to my lips, Artie started in on me.
“If you don’t pull your head out of your ass, you’re going to lose this thing,” he yelled at me.
“I know,” I said, trying to stay calm. I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. I knew it was his job as my coach, but it wasn’t encouraging. In the first round, I almost lost the fight. My body was shaking, and my mind was on edge. Artie’s words only made me feel tenser.
“I don’t think you do. You know what will happen if you lose, right?”
I wanted to say something sarcastic to him, but I figured it was not the time or the place for that.
The bell dinged, and I stood up. My eyes snapped to my opponent’s face. We both moved to the center of the cage automatically.
The guy went for a straight jab that, luckily, I was fast enough to dodge. Barely. I was almost too slow.
I nodded my head at him and took a deep breath. Artie was right. I needed to calm the fuck down before I lost. I wouldn’t be able to handle another loss. I felt my muscles relax as I took a few deeper breaths. Filling my lungs with oxygen made me feel stronger. I crouched into my fighting stance and cleared my mind.
I went for an uppercut, moving as fast as I could and to my surprise, I connected. The guy looked a little dazed, but only for a second. Then the crazy look in his eyes returned with an intensity that I hadn’t seen before.
He went to hit me in the ribs, but I blocked it and quickly got another hard punch on his left cheek. The guy stumbled, and I felt good. He went for a quick hit to my jaw, but I ducked and hit him in the ribs three times. He looked even more stunned this time. The crazed look in his eyes was starting to fade some as his confidence began to wean.
I knew I could use that to my advantage. I went for a left hook. He stumbled once more, and I knew I almost had him. I just needed one more hit. One more clean, hard hit. That’s what I did. I shot a quick, straight jab that was so fast and so hard that he didn’t see it coming.
POW. I hit him, and he fell right to the ground, knocked out cold in the second round.
I almost couldn’t believe it. I’d knocked the guy out. The ref called the fight a knockout, and I threw a fist in the air, a sense of triumph working its way through my veins.
I had almost lost it, but I got a lucky break at the last minute. I knew I could have easily lost the fight in the first round. I could have been done, my life over, but I succeeded. With the next fight, I was going to have to remain focused from the very beginning. I couldn’t step into the ring distracted ever again.
The crowd went wild, but I wasn’t sure how to feel about everything. My moment of triumphant glee quickly faded. I didn’t feel like being overly excited was the right thing. I’d almost lost. I hadn’t been able to keep my focus, and I almost lost the fight. I almost lost everything. It was hard to stay pumped up with excitement when I knew how close I’d come to losing.