Beatdown: the Prequel

(A Few Days into the Future...)

"And here we go, ladies and gentlemen! Round three, and both fighters are displaying incredible stamina. The tension in the air is palpable!"

Over the past couple of years, Olawale underwent significant changes. Following our initial bout, he triumphed in the Panat's Championship and swiftly joined Coach McKenny's association.

Standing at a distance now, he appeared sturdy and muscular, his physique highlighted by defined muscles. His dark skin gleamed with sweat, accentuating the veins on his arms. Confidence emanated from his resolute posture, and his eyes reflected unwavering determination.

In an attempt to gauge his response, I extended my left hand for a glove touch, but he remained unresponsive. It was clear that he had thoroughly analyzed my previous fight, a trademark characteristic of Coach McKenny's boxers.

Executing a one-two combination, I found my efforts thwarted by his tight guard. He skillfully tucked his body behind the defense, making his head nearly unreachable.

His defensive strategy was disciplined, and his movements were controlled and precise.

As we circled each other, probing for weaknesses and openings, Olawale suddenly launched a jab. I countered and followed up with a cross, but he deftly evaded and countered my attacks, though I managed to block his blows with ease.

"It's almost like a dance between them, ladies and gentlemen, with both boxers in complete control. It seems neither will be making any mistakes!"

Deciding to intensify the pace, I unleashed a flurry of combinations. However, my fists met only air as Olawale skillfully evaded each blow. Stepping back, a slight smirk appeared on his face.

Feinting, I baited 'Wale into lunging forward. Off-balance, his right side was exposed. Seizing the opportunity, I swung a left hook, targeting his midsection.

As my hand connected with his body, he retaliated with an uppercut. Just in the nick of time, I pulled back. His strength in the body was more formidable than I had anticipated; a body shot wouldn't be taking him down anytime soon.

After trading a couple more jabs, boos began to rain down. It was shaping up to be a challenging night in Oakdale.

The bell went and I turned around and returned to my corner.

 "Listen Champ..." Brooke started.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it appears the boos are starting to cascade from... Oh, it's the traveling fans, folks! All seventy or so of them in attendance tonight," one commentator remarked. I could hear them distinctly, as they were positioned right by my corner ringside.

"Yeah, Steve, it looks like the Chesher Peak fans are expecting more from their man tonight."

"Listen! Eddie!..." Brooke yelled. "Keep those hands up or you're going to get knocked the hell out with one of those uppercut just like the last fight. Jeez, I thought Mikaela had the tougher fight."

"What you want to do is invest to the body," she continued 

"...He's tough to the body" I struggled to declare through the gum shield. The crowd had now quieted down some.

"Listen to me! Of course, he's going to be tough to the body, it's just the third round." she slapped me across the cheek, "What are you a novice?" 

She retrieved my gum shield from the ground and rinsed it off. "Listen, fourth round's coming up, invest to the damn body!"

The bell went and I rose from the stool.

"Give this son of a gun hell Champ!." Brooke yelled out as she grabbed the stool and exited the ring.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Round four begins and what a great fight it's been so far. Both boxers showing tremendous grit and determination. But who will take this fight in the next round?"

The two of us circled each other once again, looking for the slightest weakness. As we approached each other, 'Wale unleashed a right jab that connected with my body.

I countered and swung a right, but he stepped back. I pursued and launched a right. This time, he was a fraction too slow, and my glove slammed into his midsection.

Predictably, Olawale counterattacked. This time, he was unable to connect. We exchanged blows until the bell went, with both of us returning to our respective corners.

"Good, keep attacking the body, but you're letting your guard down too often. Keep your damn hands up," Brooke scolded.

The boos echoed once more, and Brooke responded by taunting with her hands cupped around her ears.

Intrigued, I turned to glance at the source. The boos typically began with a lone individual before others joined in. I was eager to identify who it was. Straining my eyes, I could only make out the sleeve of the CPHS letter jacket before Brooke redirected my attention toward her.

"This is it, champ—the winner's atmosphere. You've got to thrive in this," she said, applying Vaseline to my forehead and ears.

"Seconds out!"

As the bell sounded, I stood and proceeded toward the center of the ring.

I circled 'Wale and then landed a right to his ribs. In an attempt to respond, he threw a left cross, but I stepped back and countered.

With each exchange, Olawale's body appeared increasingly stiff and his punches less powerful. I was gaining an edge, and it was apparent that the effects of my body shots were catching up with him.

'Wale surged forward. In response, I delivered a right uppercut and a left jab, yet he skillfully deflected both and countered with a right to the body. Swiftly, another followed, almost as if in response to the annoyance provoked by my actions.

"Oof" I muttered under my breath, feeling a sharp pain. As I swiftly pulled back.

I disliked the vulnerability I experienced when he brushed my hand aside and closed in on my body, unobstructed as he delivered the right hook. I felt incredibly open and exposed. Even as he threw the second right hook, his body still positioned itself between my right arm and torso.

As we traded blows, it was clear that my stamina was ebbing while 'Wale's remained intact. I could feel a tinge of desperation in his movements.

Out of nowhere, I took a forceful, precise left hook that landed clean. Momentarily stunned by the punch's sheer power and speed, I found myself glancing outside the ring admiring the bright ring lights. I was met with another punch to the ear, a softer punch, which snapped me back to reality, it was a wake-up call, a gift. 

"Got him! Oh, the American is in a whole world of trouble."

"...Hold on!" I heard Brooke yell.

It sounded funny for some reason so I started to smile. I turned around to examine my surroundings meeting 'Wale's angry gaze as he lunged in with a straight right. It caught me flush in the mouth. My head bobbed backwards as I absorbed the shot. I couldn't comprehend my surroundings, it was all happening so fast.

"Oh, and the Agony gets him again! Oh, the American desperately needs to hold on!"

Instinctively, I raised my hands in the air, turning my face to the side in an attempt to ward off any potential follow-up blows. Pushing him backwards, I hoped to create some distance, but he swiftly withdrew and launched an uppercut that just grazed past my ear.

I had pushed him all the way across the ring to his corner. 

"Ola push am! Push am comot!" his coach yelled. 

I grabbed on the ropes, pinning him to the corner.

The ref tugged at my hands "Hey!, let go!" he instructed.

Ignoring him, he persisted, tugging at my hands. "Let go!" I held my ground until the bell rang, and only then did I release my grip.

'Wale momentarily shared a smile and a nod, as if out of appreciation for my craftiness.

As I sat on the stool, Brooke applied Vaseline to my nose.

"Don't tell me you can't take a punch, I know better. You've got him. He's tired, and you've got him. You got this, okay, just hang in there," Brooke spoke quickly and urgently. "You know, maybe you can't take a punch. Is that the issue here?" she teased.

I could barely make out her words through the ringing in my ears.

"Okay, you can't take a punch, you got a glass jaw. We'll work on that. Let's go, stand up. You've got one more round to prove me wrong," she stated, slapping me on the cheek.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this has been a great match so far. It was all going according to plan for the American but the Agony, Olawale Agunbuyi has surprised us all. Delivering a devastating beatdown to the former Champion in round four. Round five begins at the bell!"

The bell sounded.

"Come on!" Brooke yelled as she slapped the top of the rope.

We met in the center and resumed our boxing stances.

I expected him to pounce but his punches were significantly slower, his stamina was visibly exhausted. With each blow, his movements grew more lethargic.

I threw a straight right and landed a glancing blow to his chin. His body buckled and his knees momentarily wobbled. Determined, I unleashed a left jab, but he parried and countered.

'Wale launched an attack of his own. I raised my right to block and, to my surprise, he followed with an uppercut, catching me squarely in the jaw.

For the second time, my world started to spin. I found myself looking at the lights, once again.

"What a stunning punch by Olawale! A straight right and an uppercut."

"There you go. Come on. Hurt the man my boy!" someone yelled drunkenly from the crowd. I turned around, it was the same jacket, CPHS Football, it was Alexis!

A strange sensation coursed through my neck, and in an instant, my viewpoint swiftly transitioned to a horizontal orientation. I attempted to regain control, but darkness rapidly enveloped my vision from the edges to the centre. A light-headed feeling washed over me.

"Eddie!..."