You can resist one punch on the cheek, even two or three, it doesn't matter; the amount is irrelevant when you have a mountain of adrenaline on you. When the battle begins, you don't think about anything else but how to beat your opponent. Luck was not in my favor on that occasion, I felt like I was going to throw up or pass out.
The ring was filled with angry screams, sweat, and blood. Everything was prepared, the first blows were nothing to me. Dodge, punch, block, block, dodge, punch, block, block, punch, dodge I thought as I activated every move I made.
My opponent was anything but simple: Richard Garcia, two-time lightweight champion in the last three years, the stakes and the accolades were on his side and the cheers were only rising for him.
His constipated face exposing fury was in front of me like a rabid cat about to give its best scratch, while I was cornered like prey waiting not to be knocked out at every blow.
I only had Ronald on my side, my trainer, who was yelling loudly at me in the corner of my ring.
“Dodge, block, hit, hit, dodge, hit, block, block, dodge,” his words and my movements were synchronized to perfection; as if he had command control of my body, but the reality was that I was not motivated that night.
The day before I had fought with Terry, my boyfriend. He was afraid for me. His hands on the table were tense, which made it obvious that he was uncomfortable. I could tell and we knew we wouldn't have a quiet lunch that afternoon, so he blurted it all out.
“You're doing something crazy!” he finally released. His brown eyes were red and wet as he gritted his teeth.
“It's already decided, Terry, why don't you have faith in me, you think I can't win, you think I'm not enough to beat that guy?” I rebutted him by pounding the table hard.
“No... it's not that... it's just that I...” his words contracted and he lowered his head. “I've heard terrible things about this Richard Garcia guy and I don't want anything bad to happen to you. He can knock you out, he could even... he could kill you.”
At that moment I glared at him. My eyes were wide open to the limit. I couldn't believe my partner didn't believe in me. I was more focused on how little faith he had in me than the fact that he cared about me.
“So that's it...! You think I can't win!” I retorted.
“No, Don, I'm scared for you! Don't you understand?”
“No, Terry, here the only thing I understand is that you only supported me because it was your turn, not because you thought I was any good. But you know what, I don't need you, I'm going to win that damn fight tomorrow and you're going to eat your words!”
He gawked at me, petrified as a statue. I didn't give him a chance to respond and left immediately slamming the door before I left.
I spent the night in the gym, thinking, and crying. I had never yelled at Terry like that before, I think nerves and pressure played a very bad trick on me and I ended up hurting the person I love the most.
I felt very embarrassed and didn't dare to go back and apologize to him, so the next day I prepared for my fight. When I got to the ring, I looked around and didn't find Terry's face. That made me very sad, but at the same time I understood, I knew he wouldn't come after how badly I treated him.
I felt very vulnerable without his presence. My defenses were cracking to the point where they didn't come from the punch in the jaw that Richard gave me and knocked me to the ground.
“Looks like this will be the last round for Donovan Folkes!” Said the announcer.
“Come on, boy, get up!” Shouted Ronald heartbreakingly from the corner.
The count began. The masses present were already announcing my opponent's victory. I stood there; motionless, hugging the ground with my eyes closed. Nothing mattered to me anymore, I was just waiting for it all to be over.
“Don, get up, don't give up!” I heard, and as I did, my eyes opened instantly.
I glimpsed Terry's face at the edge of the ring. He was there, cheering me on just like in my other fights! Seeing his smile and energy made me so happy.
I gritted my teeth and slowly got up. I drew strength from where I had none and fixed my eyes again on my opponent. I raised my arms, I was ready. The audience was surprised to see the fight restarted.
I was more agile, more powerful, and smarter. I had my opponent hooked to my fists. Adrenaline overpowered me to such an extent that I no longer knew what I was doing, until, I nailed a knockout on Richard's face.
The man passed out, everyone was waiting for him to wake up and gather his strength again as I did, but the damage was done. I won the fight against one of the strongest men in boxing.
Cheers went up glorifying my victory. I rushed over to Terry and hugged him. “Good thing you came, I wouldn't have done it without you,” I whispered in his ear smiling. Terry's tears bathed my shoulder and he leaned against it. From that day on, even though anger and pressure consumed me, I never again belittled my partner's feelings.
THE END
ÚLTIMO GOLPE
Puedes resistir un golpe en la mejilla, hasta dos o tres, no importa; la cantidad es irrelevante cuando tienes sobre ti una montaña de adrenalina. Cuando la batalla comienza, no piensas en otra cosa que no sea en cómo vencer a tu oponente. La suerte no estaba a mi favor en esa ocasión, sentía que iba a vomitar o a desmayarme.
El ring estaba atiborrado de gritos coléricos, sudor y sangre. Todo estaba preparado, los primeros golpes no eran nada para mí. Esquiva, golpea, bloquea, esquiva, golpea, bloquea, golpea, esquiva. Pensaba al activar cada movimiento que daba.
Mi oponente no era nada sencillo: Richard García, dos veces campeón de peso ligero en los últimos tres años, las apuestas y los elogios estaban de su parte y los ánimos solo se levantaban para él.
Su cara de estreñido que exponía furia estaba frente a mí como un gato rabioso a punto de dar su mejor arañazo, mientras yo me quedaba acorralado como una presa esperando no ser noqueado en cada golpe.
Solo tenía a Ronald de mi lado, mi entrenador, quien me gritaba con fuerza en la esquina de mi ring.
“Esquiva, bloquea, golpea, esquiva, golpea, bloquea, esquiva,” sus palabras y mis movimientos se sincronizaban a la perfección; como si él tuviese el control de mando de mi cuerpo, pero la realidad era que esa noche no me hallaba motivado.
El día anterior me había peleado con Terry, mi novio. Él tuvo miedo por mí. Sus manos sobre la mesa estaban tensas, lo cual era evidente que estaba incómodo. Me di cuenta de ello y sabíamos que esa tarde no tendríamos un almuerzo tranquilo, así que lo soltó todo.
“¡Cometes una locura!” Finalmente liberó. Sus ojos pardos estaban rojos y mojados, mientras apretaba sus dientes.
“Ya está decidido, Terry, ¿por qué no tienes fe en mí? ¿Crees que no pueda ganar? ¿Crees que no soy suficiente para derrotar a ese tipo?” Le rebatí golpeando la mesa con fuerza.
“No… no es eso… es que yo…” sus palabras se contraían y bajaba la cabeza. “He escuchado cosas terribles sobre ese tal Richard García y no quiero que te pase nada malo. Él puede noquearte, incluso… podría matarte.”
En ese momento lo fulminé con la mirada. Mis ojos estaban abiertos hasta el límite. No podía creer que mi pareja no creyera en mí. Estaba más concentrado en la poca fe que él me tenía que el hecho de que él se preocupaba por mí.
“¡Entonces es eso…! ¡Crees que no pueda ganar!” Le respondí con furia.
“¡No, Don, tengo miedo por ti! ¿No lo entiendes?”
“No, Terry, aquí lo único que entiendo es que tú solo me apoyaste porque te tocaba, no porque de verdad creyeras que soy bueno. Pero, ¿sabes qué? ¡No te necesito! ¡Voy a ganar esa maldita pelea mañana y te vas a tragar tus palabras!”
Él me miró boquiabierto y petrificado como estatua. No le di la oportunidad de responder y me fui de inmediato azotando la puerta antes de irme.
Pasé la noche en el gimnasio, pensando, llorando. Jamás le había gritado así a Terry, creo que los nervios y la presión me hicieron una muy mala jugada y terminé lastimando a la persona que más amo.
Me sentía muy avergonzado y no tenía el valor de volver y disculparme con él, así que al día siguiente me preparé para mi pelea. Cuando llegué al ring, miré a mi alrededor y no encontré el rostro de Terry. Eso me entristeció mucho, pero al mismo tiempo lo entendí, sabía que no vendría después de lo mal que lo traté.
Me sentía muy vulnerable sin su presencia. Mis defensas se quebraban hasta el punto en que no provinieron del golpe en la quijada que Richard me dio y me tumbó al suelo.
“¡Parece que este será el último round para Donovan Folkes!” Decía el presentador.
“¡Vamos, muchacho, levántate!” Gritaba Ronald desgarradoramente desde la esquina.
El conteo comenzó. Las masas presentes ya anunciaban la victoria de mi oponente. Me quedé allí; inmóvil, abrazando el suelo con los ojos cerrados. Ya nada me importaba, solo esperaba que todo terminara.
“¡Don, levántate, no te rindas!” Escuché y, al hacerlo, mis ojos se abrieron al instante.
Vislumbré el rostro de Terry al borde del ring. ¡Estaba allí, dándome ánimos como en mis otros enfrentamientos! Ver su sonrisa y su energía me hizo muy feliz.
Apreté los dientes y me levanté lentamente. Saqué fuerzas de donde no tenía y fijé mis ojos nuevamente en mi oponente. Elevé mis brazos, estaba listo. El público estaba sorprendido al ver el reinicio de la pelea.
Fui más ágil, más potente y más listo. Tenía a mi oponente enganchado a mis puños. La adrenalina me dominó hasta tal punto que ya no sabía lo que estaba haciendo, hasta que, clavé un knockout sobre el rostro de Richard.
El hombre se desmayó, todos esperaban a que despertara y recogiera fuerzas de nuevo tal y como yo lo hice, pero el daño estaba hecho. Gané la pelea contra uno de los hombres más fuertes del boxeo.
Los gritos se elevaron glorificando mi victoria. Me abalancé hacia Terry y le di un abrazo. “Que bueno que viniste, no lo hubiera hecho sin ti,” le susurré al oído sonriendo. Las lágrimas de Terry bañaron mi hombro y se recostó en él. Desde ese día, aunque la rabia y la presión me consumieran, no volví a menospreciar los sentimientos de mi pareja.
FIN
Texto traducido con Deepl | Text translated with Deepl
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Awesome story. Keep up the writing. You're doing well.
Thank you for your reading and comment. Your words make my day.
¡Enhorabuena!
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¡Muchas gracias por el apoyo!
Thank you very much!
This was a very moving story. It must be complex to love someone and watch them get beaten up in a boxing ring. However the conflict of the story was resolved aficiently and we are glad that the narrating voice can write the last paragraph from the winner's perspective and regain kindness with her partner.
That's right, despite having differences with the people we love, there will always be that feeling of concern and longing that does not prevent us from being indifferent.
Thank you for your kind words and support.
Sometimes our loved ones think they are helping us by encouraging us not to take certain steps not knowing they are limiting us from entering into the next phase of our lives.
Terry was only concern about you, I can tag him as a good lover because despite the fight and the disagreement he still showed up to support you in the end.
Certainly, despite disagreements, support for those you love will always create that huge and powerful difference.
Thank you for stopping by and reading my story.
You are welcome mate🥰❣️
I liked how you mixed action with feeling. The narrative immerses you in the moment of fights and then the couple's conflict that is resolved in the end with victory.
Thanks for sharing your story.
Good day.
Thank you my friend, sometimes courage and love makes a great combination. Greetings!