Chapter 18: Get Out of Here (Please Like and Support)

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"Go Richard! Richard will win!"

"Go Richard! Richard, you're the best!!"

The next afternoon, the Starlight Stadium was packed, with over five thousand seats filled and people crowding the aisles and corridors. The atmosphere was electrifying.

Most of the audience were residents of the Bronx and boxing enthusiasts from the surrounding areas.

In the crowd, a group of older ladies stood out the most, waving flags and holding posters of Richard. They cheered so loudly that they drowned out the venue's music.

"Richard, listen! The crowd is cheering for you. This is your home ground today. You are here to dominate this match. You have to get yourself together and dominate! Do you understand?!"

In the locker room, Richard, wrapped in a blanket, sat on a bench while Alvin stood in front of him, continuously slapping his shoulder and shouting into his ear.

"Alvin, you can trust me," Richard said confidently.

"That's not enough. The match is about to start, and you need to be tense! Be excited! I don't care how you fought in underground rings or any scripts you followed. In this arena today, you have to be excited! Be crazy! Like a hungry hyena! Stand up and shout!"

Alvin yelled.

Boom, boom, boom~

Richard stood up, pounded his chest a few times, and roared, "I am the king of the world!!!"

"Shout it three more times!"

Alvin roared.

"I am the king of the world!!!"

Richard shouted three more times until his throat was hoarse and his heart started racing. His blood began to boil.

"Paul, come here and massage Richard's legs. Help him relax his muscles!"

Alvin called.

"Me?" Paul pointed at himself. "Isn't that the team doctor's job?"

"I only treat injuries, nothing else!"

Dr. Earl, sitting with his legs crossed, had a halo of light reflecting off his bald head.

"Fine!"

Under Alvin's glare, Paul reluctantly put down his box and walked over. Today, he was the team's handyman, responsible for water cups, towels, gloves, and more. Having a future boxing champion do such menial tasks was quite demeaning.

"Ow, Paul, can you be gentler?"

Richard grimaced.

"Hmph, if this hurts, how are you going to fight? You might as well concede early so everyone can go home and sleep."

Paul glanced at Alvin chatting with Dr. Earl and whispered.

"Paul, you're my sparring partner. You know my strength best. Do you think I'll lose?"

Richard eyed him sideways.

"Not necessarily. You're fierce in practice, but on stage, winning is the real skill. And the boxing ring belongs to us Black people. A white boy like you can't beat a Black fighter."

Paul said smugly.

"Are you being racist?"

"Yes, go ahead and report me."

Paul snorted arrogantly.

Richard shook his head. "Thanks for motivating me in your way. I'll give it my all."

"You're so thick-skinned. Who's motivating you? I'm just putting you down. Know why? Ha, the answer is right here!"

Paul took out a casino ticket from his pocket. "Look closely, I bet on Montel to win, KOing you in the first round. How does that make you feel?"

Richard rubbed his face. "Paul, you're in for a disappointment."

"Impossible. You can't beat Montel; he's Black."

Paul laughed and resumed the massage, his movements heavy as if trying to defeat Richard before the match.

Richard shook his head, thinking this jerk deserved a beating. He'd deal with him after the fight.

"Richard, I'm back!"

Anthony pushed the door open.

"Did you pick up Lewis?"

Daniel Lewis from the last movie shoot said he'd watch Richard's match. He had texted a few days ago, promising to come.

"Don't worry, everything's set. Lewis and his friends are in the front row."

"Alright."

Richard closed his eyes.

"Richard, are you confident about winning?"

Anthony asked after pacing around.

"Of course!"

"What if you lose? Your girlfriend is here, the famous Lewis is here, and all our neighbors. We even bet fifty grand on you winning. If you lose, we're bankrupt."

"Shut up and believe I can win. Don't think about anything else."

Richard said irritably.

"You guys bet fifty grand?"

Paul grinned.

"Yes!"

"Hahaha, you're going to lose big. Richard can't win."

Paul laughed so hard he almost fell over.

Anthony's face darkened. "Richard, maybe you should reconsider and bet on Montel?"

"Haha, Richard, even your manager doesn't believe in you. How will you win this match?"

Paul laughed so hard he nearly fell over.

"Get out, both of you!"

Richard shouted angrily.

"Alright, alright, Richard, don't be mad. I'm leaving. Just stay safe in the ring!"

Anthony waved and left.

"Hey, Richard, you told me to leave, so don't complain to Alvin."

Paul left with a grin.

"Fuck, a team of idiots!"

Richard was furious.

"Richard, are you ready? It's almost time."

Alvin walked in.

"Ready!"

Richard stood up.

"Wait, I just said to get tense, and now you're calm again?"

Alvin frowned.

Richard's mouth twitched. How could he stay tense after dealing with those two idiots?

"I'm fine. I'll adjust quickly."

He took a deep breath and shouted to the sky, "WCNM, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck~"

"What are you saying?"

Alvin asked, confused.

"I don't know either!"

Richard shouted and rushed out of the locker room.

"You pushed him too hard; he's gone nuts."

Dr. Earl laughed.

"No worries, he can win the match even without my pep talk."

Alvin said as he walked.

"You believe in him that much?"

Dr. Earl was surprised.

"Of course. He doesn't belong here. His stage should be Las Vegas, Atlantic City, bigger places. He'll lift the gold belt and become a dazzling champion."

Alvin said confidently.

"If that's true, I can advertise that I've dug out bullets and circumcised a world champion. That sounds wonderful."

Dr. Earl said dreamily.

"Go Richard!"

The shouts echoed outside, resounding through the corridors.

"Let's go, it's time!"

Alvin walked into the bright arena with his hands behind his back.

"Hope you won't need me tonight."

Dr. Earl followed with his first aid kit.