UPPERCUT: THE REMATCH

Press Conference

         "Oh, so you right me off just because of what happened in the last fight? Have you ever boxed before, huh? Have you ever gone a few rounds in the squared circle? What? I can't hear you. I guess you're one of those 'armchair' boxers, eh? You talk the talk, but there's no way you could walk the walk. Next question." said the boxer, more than aware that the press was a little hostile. 
         "You there, in the back with the dark hat on." he said, pointing at another reporter covering the fight. The man with the hat spoke up quickly, but wasn't as intimidating as the last one. The boxer listened intently to the question before responding.
         "No, I don't think that will happen this time." he began. "I've had almost a year to reflect on what happened in the previous bout, and I'm not going to make the same mistakes twice. I want that title more than anything, and I will do what I can to make this dream finally become a reality." he finished. 
         "Next." he added, staring down the room to find the next question. Another reporter spoke up, but asked the question for his opponent. The question was direct and to the point, and his opponent answered it as best he could, trying to convey his point in a lot less words, and as coherent as possible. Time was starting to fly by, and the conference would end soon.
         There was one last question however, that the boxer had to field. He again listened to the reporter that had stood up to ask. Pondering the question for a few seconds, he answered carefully. 
        "Yes, I would want to end the fight by utilizing my uppercut, but sometimes it's easier said than done. My opponent is no pushover, or can be taken lightly. I will say however, that I believe I have all the tools necessary to walk away as your new champion of the world." he finished, before standing up and turning to his opponent, who had also risen and shoved his chair aside. 
         Both men's entourages were also now standing up, waiting for the proverbial powder keg to explode and engulf the conference area in a brawl. But it didn't happen. The two pugilists continued to stare each other down, neither one wanting to pull the trigger on any brawl. After all, they'd have tons of time in the ring to get it on.

Ring Entrance

        There was nothing like hearing your favourite song being blared in the arena as you began your walk to the ring. It told the fans that you were on your way to the ring, ready to fight, and ready to show everyone how bad you can be in the squared circle. As the boxer slowly strode down towards the ring, occasionally throwing an air punch in front, or holding up a fist to enthousiastic fans, he couldn't help but think what it took to get back here, to once again be in a position to fight for a world title, the same title he couldn't capture at the beginning of the year.
        People in the stands roared and cheered, some booed. The ring announcer was busy telling all the fans who he was and where he was from. None of that really mattered to him at the moment. He was in the zone, and ready to fight. His entourage was right behind him, and in it was his manager, cutman, attendants, and some old friends that he had promised to bring along this time out. The fight was so much more that just him and his opponent. It was about everyone in the building, whether they were a fan of his or not. He wanted to make sure that he fought well and lived up to the hype, ensuring an entertaining fight for all concerned.
        A short time later, he was climbing the steps to the ring, and ducking under the ropes. holding his gloved hands high into the air upon entry,. making sure he was visible. Looking around told him that the place was packed. Cameras went off everywhere, their flashes looking likes stars in the sky. In the far corner of the ring stood his opponent, surrounded by his own entourage, with only the announcer, referee, and president of the boxing federation standing between them both. 
        "It's my time now." he mumbled to himself, starting to bounce up and down in the ring, throwing a few more air punches. This was it. The rematch was now, and he knew what he had to do. Once the announcer was done, the gloves would touch, the bell would ring, and it was go time, no matter who was ready and who wasn't.

Round 2

        So far so good. He had easily won the first round against his opponent, who seemed a little slower and underprepared this time around. Complaints aside, the boxer was dancing around his quarry, trying to break his defences and land a few headshots early. A right, then a left, then another quick right. The last punch got through, connecting with his opponent's nose, making him stagger backwards slightly. He got up close and personal again, landing some body shots, before taking one himself. Both men backed off for moment and regrouped. 
      'Remember.' he said to himself. 'You can do this. Keep him off guard and isolate him near the corner. That's all there is to it, smart fighting. Don't be sloppy and let your guard down.'
       It was time again to attack. He moved in, dancing about, trying to catch his opponent off guard with some speed and showmanship. Lancing out with some jabs, he was testing his quarry, trying to see what kind of response he woul get. His quarry struck back with intensity, landing a few punches to the body from a quick flurry of action. Throwing up the block, the boxer moved around again, trying to get his rhythm going again. He again went in with a combination, a couple of rights and a left, before sliding to the left and trying a straight right. He managed to connect with his quarry's nose again, and was about to go for more when the bell rang, ending the round.
        He headed over to his corner, an sat down on the wooden stool that had awaited him. Only a few seconds of stool time had elapsed before his manager went off. He tried to listen carefully as a water bottle ended up in front of his face. 
       "You think you are gonna toy with him the whole fight? What is that gonna accomplish, huh? Stop playin' and start attacking! You gotta get in there, get in his head, make him screw up. When he drops his guard, punish him! This fight won't come down to body hits or punches thrown or anything. It's gonna come down to who wants it more. If you want that belt, you gotta earn it!" he explained, a little shrill. 
        The boxer didn't get time to respond. After a quick slug of water and a spit into the bucket, his mouthpiece was back in, and the bell was ringing to start the next round.

Round 5

          His opponent was weakening quicker than he thought, and he sensed that this might be the right time to start turning up the heat, and go for the knockout. Never before had he been in this position in only the fifth round of a fight, but it seemed like tonight was the night that would change everything. He danced around his opponent a little, before going in and delivering some hard left and right combinations. The majority of the shots connected, sending his quarry reeling backwards, looking more like he was on a substance, rather than fighting in a boxing match. He rushed the corner where his opponent had retreated to, and let loose more heavy barrages. Fast lefts, furious rights, with most connecting with the head and upper body.
          The opponent began to lose his legs, and it looked like he at last had the opportunity he had been waiting for since the last fight. Not one to squander, he put his energy into a powerful uppercut, catching his quarry on the chin, contorting his face, and snapping him backwards in a hurry, collapsing against the corner turnbuckles before falling to the mat motionless, completely knocked out and unconcious. The boxer waited, and felt time slow down as the referee came over and started the count, seemingly in slow motion. By the time he got to ten, and the bell rang, he knew it was over. The ring announcer, among other people, made his way into the ring and confirmed what everyone in the arena knew, and almost making it official.
          "Ladies and gentlemen, you're winner by way of knockout, at two fifty three of the fifth round, and new champion of the world....."

           'Where the hell is that music coming from?' he thought to himself, opening an eye and turning his head to see the alarm clock on his nighttable. It was eight o'clock in the morning, and he remembered now that he had to get ready for an early morning press conference and photo shoot. Turning back over to his left, he laid eyes on the black naugahyde of the championship title belt's underside. He brought a hand up and flipped it over, the sunlight coming in from the crack of the drapery glinting off the gold plates on the front of the belt.
         He smiled large, and finally felt that he was where he should be. Waking up in a nice hotel the day after was a bonus, and it seemed like it made everything feel better. But no matter what, he had done it. He had finally become the champion, and no one could take this moment away from him! He knew that there would be new opponents that would want a title shot and a piece of him, but that would be some other day. Today, he was the champion, and that's all that mattered for the time being.

                                                         THE END