WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!
The three punch combination slammed into his midsection, the first two blows knocking the little remaining air from his lungs and the final blow knocking him to the canvas.
"1….2….3…."
The sound of the referee counting sounded so distant he might as well have been counting on the dark side of the moon. Despite his best efforts to get himself to move his limbs refused to cooperate.
"7….8….9….10!", and with that the bell finally sounded. With that he finally gave up trying to move and lay there. He felt himself being helped into his feet and led to the centre of the ring.
"And the winner, by knockout…" by this time he didn't even bother to continue listening. In robot-like fashion he completed the required post match congratulations, wordlessly left the ring, and headed towards the locker rooms. He was so absorbed within his own thoughts that he barely noticed the handful of patrons who were in the auditorium to see his fight, and he certainly did not notice the burly heavyset man standing far off to the side who was watching him intently.
The shower had done little to relieve the throbbing aches all over his body from the beating that he had taken, neither had the change into fresh sweats. Looking at his reflection in the mirror he slightly grimaced at the reflection of the face that confronted him.
"At least the fresh bruises will cover the old bruises from the last fight", he said dryly.
At that point, the door burst open as the auditorium owner entered.
"OK kid, this is the take for tonight", he said as he pulled a large wad of bills from the inside pocket of the cheap ill-fitting suit that remained open due to its inability to contain his large pot belly. "Now there's auditorium fees, promotion fees, rentin' the lockers, payin' my guy to be your cornerman…" with each item he recited he pulled out some of the bills from the stack. "Leavin' you with your cut," he finally said handing over the much reduced bundle. The young man quickly counted the money, voiced his thanks, sighed and pocketed the money. He shouldered his gym bag and headed towards the exit. Just as he was about to exit he turned and faced the owner.
"Any idea on when I can get another fight?" he asked.
The owner looked back at him with a hint of pity in his eyes.
"Nothin' in the pipeline right now, but if something comes up, I'll get in touch with ya", he replied.
The younger man nodded and turned back to finally leave. "Hey kid", the owner called after him stopping him in his tracks, "are you sure you want this? I mean you come here and get your chops busted; you've hardly got any wins to your name, and all to make chump change. You're small and weak… are you really cut out for this?"
The young boxer looked back at him and slowly nodded and closed the door behind him and stepped into the cool night. The walk towards the bus stop gave him time to reflect on the owner's words and whether there was some truth to them or not. Upon reaching the stop he found it deserted, and sat down on the bench and relaxed in the warm glow of the street lamp overhead.
"Maybe that guy was right about me not having what it takes to do this", he said out loud.
"If I had listened to everyone who said that, I would never have made it".
The boxer whirled in his seat to face the sound of the new voice, and was confronted by a large black man dressed plainly in a jacket, jeans and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. "I saw some of your fight tonight, and I got to say you've got a lot of work to do… but you do have potential kid".
"What makes you an expert?" the young boxer asked while standing and facing the man.
"I've seen a few things", he replied. With that, he quickly threw a punch at the boxer. The boxer ducked the blow and threw a straight punch to counter, a counter that the other man easily sidestepped while placing a hand on the youngster's shoulder and pulling towards him, throwing him to the ground. The younger one sprung to his feet to face the other man again, but found that his attacker was smiling broadly.
"Take it easy, that was for show. You tend to counter with a straight punch to the head. Not a bad technique, but you tend to lean too far forward into your punch, leaving you off balance", he said calmly. "Like I said, I see talent in you kid and I want to help you get there, because I know you can get there."
"Listen, I appreciate the offer but I can't afford to pay for a coach… I can barely pay myself".
"This one is on the house so don't worry about that. So like I said if you want my help, I'm here."
The young man paused and looked over the man for a while. Something about him seemed familiar somehow.
"Well what are your credentials then?" the boxer asked half mockingly.
"Well nothing much," the other man said as he took off his cap revealing his features and smiling as he saw a flash of realization cross the younger man's face, "other than being a former W.V.B.A Champion that's all."
"You're "Doc" Louis!" came the exclaimed reply.
"Yes I am," he answered as he offered his hand to shake "and what's your name kid?"
"Mac," he said as he shook his hand and smiled.