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They both step into the ring, anxious, ready...hearts beating steadily, as their minds have already anticipated this moments months in advance. They hear their names spoken to the audience of thousands, their introductions telling the tale of their victories, their defeats and their knockouts. They hear the cheers and the jeers of the many fans that paid to see two warriors battle in the modern day arena we call the boxing ring. Countrymen gather in their homes to see this combat, hoping, praying that the skills of their hometown favorite shine far above that of his opponents, wanting the glory that comes from his victory, and fearing the agony that comes with his defeat.
The bell rings, and the action begins. They explore each other's abilities, testing little moves here and there that can expose any possible weakness which can be capitalized in the following round...and then the fight is on. Round after round, they exchange blows, parrying, jabbing, maintaining movement, forward, backwards, latteral...the power behind their blows, the speed of their skilled hands, their footwork...all bringing excited cheers from their supporting fans. They suck up the pain that comes with the devastaing blows theiy submit their bodies to. But this is the game, and that body has been put through a wringer of pain, sweat and effort for this same moment. The bell rings, bringing them the much needed rest between rounds where their teams give both accolades and advice on how to do better here, how to adjust there, what flaws they're not taking advantage of. The boxer just looks, listens, and lets them work on his cuts and bruises.
The next round begins, and neither of them have knocked out his opponent, but there is still time...3 minutes that can make the difference between a glorious exit of the arena, or a decision left in the hands of judges, who can be biased, and bought off. The punches fly, the sweat and blood flying off of tired and aching bodies, that give their all to please not only the warrior's heart that beats inside of them, but the hearts of the millions watching, and counting on them. The pressure of that last minute mounting, pushing the envelope, gritting of teeth, clenching of jaw, and then....the punch lands! The knockout finally comes, the crunching feeling of the glove as it connects to the enemy's jaw, his ribcage, his temple. Suddenly the weight is lifted, the elation of watching him go down comes in a wave of euphoria that can be heard throughout the stadium, can be felt in the homes of those watching, can be heard in the voice of the commentators and annoucers. The blood on the canvas was well shed, and each drop makes the victory that much sweeter.
The bell rings, and the action begins. They explore each other's abilities, testing little moves here and there that can expose any possible weakness which can be capitalized in the following round...and then the fight is on. Round after round, they exchange blows, parrying, jabbing, maintaining movement, forward, backwards, latteral...the power behind their blows, the speed of their skilled hands, their footwork...all bringing excited cheers from their supporting fans. They suck up the pain that comes with the devastaing blows theiy submit their bodies to. But this is the game, and that body has been put through a wringer of pain, sweat and effort for this same moment. The bell rings, bringing them the much needed rest between rounds where their teams give both accolades and advice on how to do better here, how to adjust there, what flaws they're not taking advantage of. The boxer just looks, listens, and lets them work on his cuts and bruises.
The next round begins, and neither of them have knocked out his opponent, but there is still time...3 minutes that can make the difference between a glorious exit of the arena, or a decision left in the hands of judges, who can be biased, and bought off. The punches fly, the sweat and blood flying off of tired and aching bodies, that give their all to please not only the warrior's heart that beats inside of them, but the hearts of the millions watching, and counting on them. The pressure of that last minute mounting, pushing the envelope, gritting of teeth, clenching of jaw, and then....the punch lands! The knockout finally comes, the crunching feeling of the glove as it connects to the enemy's jaw, his ribcage, his temple. Suddenly the weight is lifted, the elation of watching him go down comes in a wave of euphoria that can be heard throughout the stadium, can be felt in the homes of those watching, can be heard in the voice of the commentators and annoucers. The blood on the canvas was well shed, and each drop makes the victory that much sweeter.