Sonny fought with single-mindedness in the ring, his spirits lifting each time he heard the cheering, the laughter, the cries of excitement – they were enjoying themselves, no doubt about that, and that was what Sonny wanted. With each cheering Sonny got an extra spurt of energy as adrenaline pumped faster into his blood stream. He surpassed even his own expectations. His opponent fell down heaving and gasping, glistening with sweat, with no energy to get to his feet. Sonny won by a huge margin that night.
The second night was more challenging for Sonny where he had to fight with champion boxer Curtis Lowe. Curtis was 5’7” and 159 lbs. Sonny was physically more intimidating at 5’10” and 175 lbs. But he was only 21. Curtis Lowe was a mature man, chunky and stocky, and mean-looking. Twinges of nervousness struck him. Could he match up to Lowe’s fine-tuned skills and superior strength? He would definitely give his best shot. As during the previous night, what were important to him were the enjoyment and the entertainment the veterans derived from it. So, that evening, under bright ring lights he met with the formidable Curtis Lowe as the veterans cheered and yelled for him. He had become a veritable hero to them overnight.
The match started out pretty evenly matched. Curtis Lowe, his black eyes gleaming malevolently, his lips pursued stubbornly stood with fists clenched in readiness. Sonny reined in his emotions and stood equally prepared, undaunted. He made sure to circle his opponent, never staying more than a few seconds directly in front of him. He adroitly avoided the punches that were rained on him. Neither lost balance. Sonny threw a left jab followed by a straight right. Curtis responded with a right jab and a left hook. They blended a good combination of punches that kept the crowd on their feet and cheering loudly. Curtis was a skilled boxer. Sonny was a budding novice, but he was motivated and committed to fight hard. Sonny tried hard to concentrate and not throw too many punches. He was determined to save his energy to give the ultimate punch that would ensure victory for him.
In the second round, Curtis played foul and landed Sonny a low hook in the groin that dazed him had him writhing in pain. The crowd was tensed and breathless, anxious for Sonny as Curtis Lowe kept the pressure of agonizing blow after blow. Sonny needed a break. Couldn’t wait till the round ended, as he said afterwards.
Two more rounds left. Back in those days, they only fought four rounds to prevent guys from too much injury. For much of the time it was a tense and close fight. At one time Sonny feared he would have to concede victory to Lowe. He looked around to search, yearning for divine inspiration. In his blurred and unconscious vision, he could see the many faces all around, some jeering, some grimacing, all torn. The one that he made out and could not forget was the indomitable face of Ray, WW II veteran and fighter pilot extraordinaire. He stood there, still, hopeful and impassioned and for that moment, he gave Sonny something to shoot for.
Instinctively, Sonny’s survival instincts revved full throttle. He wanted revenge. He was so charged up that he jumped into the ring and went after Curtis with jabs. It was his favorite punch and the most important punch in a boxer’s arsenal. Sonny twisted his arm in a corkscrew-like motion before the impact. This produced a snapping sound so loud it reverberated through the entire arena. Sonny willed his entire strength into a final hook punch that caught Curtis off guard. Sonny executed it with such precision and speed that Curtis was knocked off balance and fell immediately to the floor. It was a clear knock out and it took 1 minute and 39 seconds to see it through. So, in the end, Sonny stole the limelight from Curtis Lowe and had all the veterans crowding him, cheering him and thumping him on the shoulder. The margin of victory was relatively small, but it was an unforgettable night for Sonny.
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