A thread about nothing

[Rudyo]

OMG, I don't know if i should have but this made me LOL in real life and almost spit up my milk.

[BOXEO _]

OMG, I don't know if i should have but this made me LOL in real life and almost spit up my milk.

Haha, laugh it's hilarious, and true

[BOXEO _]

[BOXEO _]

[-MEGA-]

[krazyn8tive]

Fear is in all of us, I don't know if fear is even the right word to describe what is inside of me. I guess it would be more like anxiety mixed with nerves and a case of an upset stomach. It's one thing to spar in your own gym, or even travel and spar at other gyms where you don't know who the other guy is. This is different, there's a crowd and the noise they are making sounds like a monster inside a cave that you must enter to get the prize.

I'm alone now, my hands are wrapped, and I'm going through what I have to do in my mind. Going over and over in my head what my coach has told me, then thinking about really wanting to hurt him. Then again, he wants to hurt me too, that feeling in my stomach stirs up again...

I hear a voice in the hallway saying fight 1 is over, I'm fight 3. The time is getting closer, the fear of losing is stronger than the anticipation of winning. I have to change that, I have to think I'm indestructible, that I can't be beat. I have not convinced myself of that yet though, as that feeling in my stomach gets even stronger.

"Time to glove up!", those words come as the door swings open and my silence is interrupted by familiar faces. The locker room fills with noise and chatter, drowning out my thoughts I was having amid the feint sounds behind the door. I put on the gloves, I slowly lower my arm straight down as my trainer holds the glove for me to push into, it feels like an extension of my body. I open and close my hands to feel the texture and raise it to my face to smell the Mexican leather, I love that smell.

As my gloves are hitting my trainers mitts, I can hear the slap from leather to leather contact. I'm slipping and ducking shots thrown back at me, and getting warmed up. My body starts to take over my mind, and now it's just a blur but I'm executing the combinations properly. Sweat starts to trickle down the side of my face, and my muscles feel loose. The anxiety in me starts to get stronger, I feel moments of weakness, even fatigue as I know the fight is nearing.

I see my trainer walk out, then back, in what seems like a much longer time than it actually is. "Showtime", he says with a smile. My face isn't smiling though, it just has an empty look with nothing behind my eyes. As I walk through the hallway of this old auditorium, I start to think how many fights it's seen. How many shows, plays or functions it has hosted. Then the sounds of the crowd get louder and louder until I get pushed through what looks like a makeshift curtain.

As I step through the curtain, I see a bright light right in may face. I can't see anything but I hear the crowd now cheering. I walk through the crowd that is separated by a barrier, and I see men in yellow shirts with the word "security" written in black. I'm pushed along, shadow boxing by instinct and now I can see the ring. It's elevated above the crowd and I can hear familiar voices screaming out my name. I see people in the ring now, and bright lights above it. My opponent is already in there, as I can see his legs from under that bottom rope from the angle I'm peering in from.

I walk up these steps, lower my head to enter the ring as I always have in the gym, but this time it's different. The ring is clean and neat, there are ring girls in there and a referee. I turn around and my trainer starts to apply vaseline to my face. The slickness of it mixes with my sweat and coats my face. My coach whispers words of encouragement in my ear and tells me to relax, but I can't as now I hear my heart in my chest and my pulse in my arms. I turn around and I see my opponents face for the first time.

The referee tells my coach to walk to the center, he grabs my arm to bring me with him as I don't seem to respond to the instructions. Now I'm a few feet from my opponent, he looks strong and his body hard. He is sweating too, and we lock our eyes to one another. I don't want to be the first to look away, so I stare until I have to blink but I don't.

Then it happens, he blinks and looks away for a split second. My anxiety now turns into confidence and we step back. I don't turn around to walk, but walk backwards so I can never look away from him.

Then I hear my trainers voice yell out clearly amid the noise of the crowd. His voice is the only thing I hear until I hear a loud bell.....

Trump 2016