Chapter 2
[So, Jake "The Bomber" Louis vs Gabriel Marcellus, you don't look satisfied Eddy.]
[What's there to be satisfied about? "The Mauler" Dempsey is switched out with a guy who looks like he meets my dad for his monthly colonoscopy, you might as well bring up someone from the fringe, at least they'll have the stamina to keep up.]
[Well it's not his fault Dempsey backed out of the fight last minute. And everything aside, I still think Marcellus can put up a good fight.]
[It's a Journeyman up against a title holder, it's like watching a B-movie actor on the big screen with Leornardo Dicaprio.]
[I wouldn't be so sure, 87 fights, 56 wins and 31 losses, and he's in the records of fighters like Holmes and Marguerito and at least 13 other top contenders, quite a few who have eaten a loss from him, but here's the kicker all the loses have been by decision.]
[So the man has never been knocked down?]
[Not as far as anyone can remember, this is a guy who's chin rivals Rocky Marciano.]
[Then why's he still a journeyman?]
[Well stories like his aren't that rare in this industry, lack of backing for higher ranked fights and word around the water cooler is that no one has ever agreed to a rematch, the man's almost a gatekeeper in his own right, if you fight him and win, it's like getting your license to fight for the belt, but win or lose, anyone who matches him has to go through a lot of punishment.]
[Well, we're gonna find out if he lives up to his own legend.]
---
[It looks like you jinxed the man because Marcellus is definitely fading, he punched himself out in that last burst and the bad news is Louis knees haven't touched the canvas.]
[And it looks like Louis is regaining his bearings, parrying and blocking more of the punches.]
[Well I have to admit he put up a better fight against the champ than I expected, but this is the end of the line.]
---
The champion throws a flurry of blows towards the fighter.
Some land.
The body.
The ribs.
The chest.
The chin.
But none seemed to budge.
The champion, for the first time in any of his fights had absolutely no idea what was going on.
And to his credit, neither did the fighter.
Every muscle in his body alternated between screaming in pain or unresponsive numbness.
At this point there's nothing left...
Even if he wanted to move back after receiving those punches, he simply couldn't... Trying to compute shifting his feet, using his body or ducking his head out of the punch's way was no longer something he was capable of...
Heck! He couldn't even remember his own name or that of the person standing in front of him.
His grasp of reality at this moment was tenuous at best.
All he knew was that he was the fighter.
And he had to face the champion standing in front of him...
And somewhere behind him, was the lover.
He needed to go back to the lover.
And the fight continued.
With his one good eye he sees a punch coming straight for his face...
THUD!
As it pulls back, the man standing in front of him is different.
A child.
Yet someone he had to look up to, even with his height.
A lanky fist swings towards him as he watches dumbstruck.
THUD!
And once more it's the champion, with fear in his eyes for some reason.
Causing the fighter to almost chuckle in the middle of everything.
There were some scrapes and some bruises, but the fighter was sure they were nowhere near the same level of ugly at this point.
Why was he the one who was scared despite continuing to throw that left hook.
THUD!
It's the kid again, but he's angry.
Much fiercer and braver than the champion it seems, and somehow his punches sting a little more.
He's screaming something, but the fighter's head is ringing so all he hears is a warped pre-pubescent shriek as he's shoved onto the ground.
His head tilts upwards.
THUD!
Something hard knocks against the back of his head.
It makes little sense to him, where would he find anything that tough in the middle of the ring.
He's looking up, and it's the rays of dawn shining down upon him.
Somehow there's many of them basking him in their white lights, and he contempplated if the sun was ever held together by several metal beams.
---
[And Louis throws a desperate upper cut with his whole body, finally knocking the journeyman's head up, the first time any part of the man has even moved an inch anywhere this round.]
[I don't even know what's going on anymore! it's Louis who's throwing more punches and taking less damage in their exchange but from the way things are going it almost feels like he's the challenger.]
[It's physically painful just watching him take those shots, it's unbelievable how much punishment that body is able to take but it looks like it finally broke, he may lose his no knock-out record but for the sake of a man his age, that's better than going another two rounds like this.]
[But Eddy... he's not falling.]
[What?]
[The man's not falling! His head is tilting all the way back but his back foot has caught his body! Can someone tell me what's going on!?]
[I don't think anyone can, I'm looking at Louis right now and he's just frozen in confusion right there.]
[Charlie Roach is on his toes on the edge of the ring while holding back his wife from rushing in.]
[And he's coming back!, I don't know what was going on with him a few seconds there, it almost looked like he was admiring the spotlights.]
[He's getting back to position,... AND HE'S BRINGING A BIG RIGHT WITH HIM!]
[JAKE LOUIS IS TOO STUNNED TO EVEN MOVE OUT OF THE WAY! IT BLOWS HIM STRAIGHT TO THE CANVAS!]
[THE REFEREE CHECKS HIM... .... ... AND HE CALLS IT! JAKE THE BOMBER LOUIS IS OUT! GABRIEL MARCELLUS HAS WON THE FIGHT! HE'S WON THE FIGHT!]
[I DONT'T BELIEVE IT! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! THIS HAS TO BE ONE OF THE BIGGEST UPSETS IN BOXING HISTORY!]
[Well you better believe it Howie, the man's walking to his coach and wife as we... what the... call a medic!]
---
He won.
The lover thought, the fight was over and he came out on top.
But her chest was still tightened, even as he made his steps towards her, her insides continued to fall.
She ran to him, her legs moving even when her head couldn't make sense of what was going on.
Her arms catch him in the middle of his steps...
But his body doesn't stop walking forward...
No.
The fighter wasn't walking anymore...
He was falling.
---
His body had been moving under only two commands.
...Face the champion...
...Go back to the lover...
And now it had done both...
---
The lover couldn't hold on to the fighter's larger frame, her body tilting back while she tried to support his weight.
A pair of wrinkled hands catch the both of them, and soon, many others rush in to help the man down onto the canvas.
The lover held her love.
Her lips trembling as she continued to stutter.
She begs him not to go.
She shakes him as hard as she can but there's no response.
Her eyes look up to Roach, hoping there's more hope in his eyes than her own. What she sees makes her fingers curl.
Quickly she unwraps his gloves trying to find the warmth of his fingers, rippping off the wrappings in abaddon.
Freeing it, the lover finds his hand, but she hesitates.
Biting her lower lip, she pushes her own wrist into his grasp.
It's cold.
If there was ever a question if a heart could break, it was proven at this moment. The world swirled around her as she lost the ability to breath, each inhale like shards of glass in her lungs, her heart stopped like a vice was clamping down on it.
She was sitting, but it felt like she was falling.
Continuously into a dark abyss with nothing to catch her.
But he does.
A twitch of his finger reversing her death sentence.
But she wished he hadn't.
One look and she knew that nothing had changed.
All he did was make sure she didn't follow immediately behind.
She grits her teeth as the streams flow down her face without end, she truly loathed the man she loved.
Out of all the things he had put her through it was by far the worst he'd ever done and even worse than that was that she couldn't even get mad at him like this.
All she can do is stare in longing, as a hole begins to form inside her.
His mouth opens, his lips move, he forms the words but it stops in his throat.
The lover held her love, looking at his eyes as they watched her.
Barely enough strength to keep his eyelids halfway open and certainly not enough to move his lips, struggling to say the words he needed to say.
The lover said "I know, I know, I know."
The fighter hears her, and his eyes begin to close.
She leans in and kisses his lips as they began to tremble.
Her hand leaves his grasp, and she touches his fingertips, sliding into the gaps she'd held onto for years.
Somehow they both know, he's not coming home.
Hi, Author here.
Previously wrote Tear a Path if you wanna read, it's kinda on hiatus now.
But I wanted to write this, one because I think maybe a new story will get the juices flowing again and two, because I love this sport.
Now since the first part of this has a lot of technical terms, I'm going to add some of those definitions.
Haymaker: A punch in which the arm is whipped sideways from the shoulder joint with minimal elbow bend, usually a punch thrown by amateurs and maybe in drunken bar fights, it's strong because of the huge wind up, but it's something people generally don't use because it leaves the person open to counters and wastes a lot of energy if it misses.
Inside/Outside: This is generally where the position of the fighters are in relative to each other, this is usually signified by the where the lead foot or front foot of the fighter is. If they're inside it's a more dangerous position because that means they're more within reach of their opponent's punches but they're also in position to deal quite a few of their own with shorter punches that rely more on weight shifting rather than momentum. Outside fighters are generally those who have a longer reach or are slower in an exchange, using timing and momentum to deal heavy damage and allowing them to step out of the opponent's punch more easily.
Fringe contender: This usually refers to a lesser-known or low-ranking fighter who is about to break into the higher rankings, but doesn't typically pose much of a threat.