Fight Night
"So tired…"
What drives a man to fight? When he's being pummeled, when the drive is leaving his body, when his legs can't even support that body and he stumbles forward to the ground?
What drives him forward?
What makes a man dig deep and push on?
What made me, Angelus, look destiny in the eye and seize the moment?
I can remember, even now, how she looked at me. I can remember the look of hope in Sarah's eyes as she climbed to the top rope. And I saw that from the canvas. My body caked with perspiration. I could feel my legs aching, wanting to give out.
My heart beating rapidly in my chest. I looked away, then I looked up and I saw her there. Saint James, feeding off her own moment. I felt surrounded by a swirling sea -- a sea of people, with no names, no faces, just a blur.
Then, I heard it. I heard them chanting my name. A quiet rumble that quickened into the sound of a thunderous, vengeful god.
…I closed my eyes…
"Ah, shit."
…and I leapt to my feet…
"Better not miss."
…and I threw a kick and I hit her with everything I had…
Then, just like that, it was over. It had seemed like an eternity. I believe I had my eyes open, although, looking back now, I'm not sure. I could see flashes of bright white light. Too bright to look at directly.
So I looked out into the crowd. I could see them cheering me on. Another wave of exhaustion hit me. What a night it had been.
But it was time to move on.
There would be two new names added to the list.
It's Wednesday. The show begins here in a few hours and I sit alone, away from everyone, going through the calming process of taping my wrists and hands. I stare off, not really looking at anything, just trying to get centered.
I think about something Ursula had said. She wants to ask me the same question I had asked of her.
Why should I be in a match competing for a shot at the European championship?
Well, why shouldn't I be?
I have proven myself here. Not all the way mind you, but I have made a stance and there's no where to go but up.
I think once again how delusional Ursula is. I wonder what it would be like to be in her head for one day. I'd probably go crazy.
It's one thing to have a lot of talk, but if you can't back it up, you have no legitimacy. Perhaps, this is where I get my confidence from.
I should of heard him coming, but I didn't.
Steve Sayors pulls a seat up next to me and asks for a moment of my time.
I get it. It's the big night. It's almost showtime and he needs to get the pulse.
He asks a lot of questions and I do my best to answer them from my gut because that's what I've always done.
I tell him that it must be hard for Ursula. It must be hard to see a future so crystal clear, then to realize that in a few hours that future no longer holds the golden brick roads and blue skies that you thought it did. Instead, only to find yourself on a spiraling descent back to rock bottom.
And I tell Sayors that isn't to say Ursula isn't talented, because she is. But her problem is that she doesn't know when to come up for air.
I see Sayors smirk and I tell him to get his mind out of the gutter. I state that Ursula is in over her head and she doesn't realize that she's drowning.
Because hitting a punching bag in a gym is one thing.
Trying to hit a fighter in combat is another.
And I know Ursula won't believe this, that's not who she is. She doesn't want to believe that she's vulnerable. Weak. That she's going to lose tonight.
And why would she? Ursula's fantasy world must be a great place to live in.
I tell Steve that I had asked Ursula what makes her worth the energy and that yes, I have seen her, and sadly, for as beautiful as she is, I think there's a vacancy sign floating in the cold, dark abyss of her head.
You see Ursula is a woman who believes she is the strongest -- a thug right?
But that's not reality, Ursula. That's not the truth. Reality is an objective device that we all see through subjective means. It is suggested that we do not see reality as it is, but how we can perceive it.
I can't think of better proof of that theory than you, Ursula.
And that, I tell Sayors, is why she is vulnerable. Because deep down, she doesn't believe. I am the best, because I know it in my heart to be true. I can call myself the whole, damn show, because I know it to be true.
You, Ursula, don't believe that you can be beaten.
You don't believe that others have what it takes to snuff you out.
You don't believe that I could ever harm you, and that is exactly why you will lose.
I hope they throw a welcome back party for you in Argentina when you return home. Hopefully you won't be too disgraced to enjoy a slice of cake.
Reality hurts, but hey, there's always room for cake.
Before I go, Ursula, what size t-shirt does the mom of miss thug life wear?
I want to know before I ship her an Angelus t-shirt after she becomes a fan of mine for knocking some sense into her idiotic daughter.
Don't be scared, Ursula. This night will be over soon for you.
Then you can return to the fantasy world inside your head.
Then you can return to the fantasy world inside your head.
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