Beatdown: the Sequel

(The Present...)

"Eddie! Get Up!." I could hear Brooke call out, her voice echoing as though we were in a cavern.

"4!"

"5!"

"Oh, he's getting back up! Can you believe it! He was out cold there but he's getting back up."

I managed to stand on my feet, albeit wobbling.

"Are you alright?!" The referee asked.

I nodded in response, struggling to maintain my balance.

"Can you continue? Do you wish to continue?"

I nodded once more, and the ref signaled for the bout to resume.

'Wale was standing in his corner with his hands resting on the ropes as though the fight was already over, coach McKenny was whispering something into his ear. It was as though he was an observer watching the refs count from the corner. I brought my hands up as soon as he began to approach, tucking my elbows into my midsection in preparation for the onslaught but he was a skilled operator and my limbs couldn't cover everywhere, after taking a left hook to the ear and a jab to the body for good measure I went down for the second time.

"Down for the second time!"

"Whooo!" Alexis' voice rang out and the crowd followed soon after.

"1"

"2"

"3"

"4"

The bell went. "If Miller can get up here he'll be saved by the bell!"

"Stand up! Stand up!" Brooke screamed, but my vision was blurred. I could barely discern her figure through the Vaseline smeared all over my eyes.

I managed to push myself to a sitting position, using the ropes for support.

"Oh, he's getting up, he's making it to his feet."

"Get up!" Brooke screamed again, grabbing me by the shoulder.

"Ladies and gentlemen, he has gotten up and he'll just make the count. Eddie Miller is back up and the round is over. What a devastating display from the Agony and you get the sense here that this won't go on for much longer."

"Come on champ, you're getting knocked the hell out," Brooke muttered.

"Listen to me," she said. "He's going to go for the head. He wants the knockout. Just keep your damn hands up, don't give him an opening. You're a world champion. Don't lose like this," she continued.

"This is what you train for, Champ. Get ready, he's coming. You got this."

"Seconds out!" The ref screamed.

"Go!" Brooke yelled, slapping me on the cheek, "Go, champ!"

I walked back to the middle of the ring and stood facing him, his hands were up, guarding his face, I kept mine close to my body.

'Wale's first attack came swiftly, and it was a left hook that missed clean. He stepped forward, attempting to follow up, but I evaded his blows and counter-attacked, landing a combination, a right cross and a left hook, but his gloves deflected the strikes.

He retreated, and we resumed our stance, circling each other.

"It seems like both fighters need some time to recover here. An eventful round five but was it too eventful for the Agony!" 

Olawale lunged forward with a right. I parried the strike, counter-attacking, but he deflected the blows.

As we circled each other again, I could detect exhaustion in his posture, in the manner his shoulders sagged.

Once more, he attacked, but his blows were deflected, and I landed a left jab and a right hook. While their punches lacked significant impact, they were scoring shots. My goal was to endure just enough to remain in the match, banking on the possibility of recovery to unleash a stronger performance in the later rounds.

"The Agony, ladies and gentlemen, has thrown everything he has at the American, but Eddie Miller is showing that he's no ordinary man."

"Eddie, you can't keep letting him throw those hooks and uppercuts for free, punish him! Keep the distance, don't let him get inside. Keep him at the outside, away from the body," Brooke instructed.

The bell went and I retreated to my corner.

"Alright, Miller," I recalled Brooke announcing after our training session that morning. "This is going to be a tough one. A lot has changed since you last met. A lot!"

I nodded.

"Expect a hostile crowd. That's par for the course."

"Where's Mikaela?" I asked out of the blue. "Haven't seen her around."

Brooke flung the towel in my face. "She's taking her fight seriously, you know, like you should." She gestured toward the door. "I haven't seen Mikaela since we got here either. She's really invested in this one, personal trainer and all. There's a lot at stake, you know."

"Listen, I'm not going to sugarcoat it. Your chances of winning this one are slim to none. All you need to do is make it competitive, and if you can, secure a draw."

"Wow, thanks for the moral support."

"Realistically, the only way you win this is if you box with discipline, which you can't do. I've studied both of you. You come out strong early but tire out later, and typically, one person ends the fight with a lucky shot. Tonight, I don't think that's going to be you. I really don't."

I lifted my thumb in the air sarcastically "Loving it Brooke, just layer it on. Spread it all around!"

"Listen, and I'll say this just once. If you want to stand a chance, focus on investing in body shots early on. Use his jab, not yours—his! Aim for the back of his ear, which always seems to rock him, or target his nose, he tends to bleed easily. But most importantly, he don't like it to the body, so touch him with some good one and bring it up with an uppercut. Either way, you get your money end of the night, just make sure you are alive to collect it."

"Wow, that's just..." I began, applauding. "I mean, you might have outdone yourself with that one."

"Just so you know, I'm serious about this. My money's not on you. I'm going to check on Mikaela," she announced as she walked to the door. "I mean, how am I always surrounded by losers? Leaving one, and heading to the other. I should be getting paid for this." she muttered as she exited the room.