As most people walk into the gym all they see is a basketball court with chairs, tables, and a ring. This is probably not something that most people would see a basketball court being used for, yet as I walk in I can see that there is so much more to it. It’s built right in the middle of the court with chairs surrounding each side. Behind each group of chairs there is a set of bleachers to give each team an area to set up. The ring is mounted up a good four feet from the ground, higher then everyone when sitting. As people enter the gym buying there tickets I can feel the cold air blow through; it sends goose bumps throughout my body and a chill down my spine. Beside the glow of the snack bar the only light on in the gym is the four lights hanging above the ring, so that all the attention is drawn to me and him in the middle. When I think about it, it’s almost like in ancient Rome when gladiators would meet in the coliseum to fight head to head; the thing is our hands are the shields and swords of this fight. Only difference in this fight is that every two minutes we get a minute rest and water.
The stool, bucket and water bottle for each corner either red or blue is probably the only friend that I would have at that moment. There is no better feeling then the ice cold water running down my throat. The crowd surrounding the ring is literally yelling to tear each others head off; these people seek blood and pain it’s only natural to them. Often there is a crowd gathered at the light of the snack bar serving the nachos, hotdogs and Popcorn which in fact could be smelled throughout the whole gym and would keep people constantly moving around. No one can ever escape the smell of popcorn. The boxers are always told to stay away from the snack bar. I know all to well that the smell of delicious buttery popcorn does not mix well with a stomach that has been deprived of junk food for weeks. As I wait patiently for my entrance I calmly envision what I’m about to do inside the ring. Coming out of the red corner I bounce around on the canvas of the ring from one corner to another. From the red corner to each neutral corner and back to the red corner, I feel the ropes as well stretched tightly around the ring yet loose enough to give a slight bounce back when leaned upon. Just as I start to get a game plan going I hear an all too familiar sound “Ding, Ding” and that meant that I had about 9 minutes until I walk up those steep red stairs into the ring.
As I look around I can see the intensity in the crowd’s faces and voice. I start walking closer to the ring and the floor gets sticky, most likely from the spilled Pepsi can left by one of the little kids. Now I step into the ring and can really feel the softness of the foam underneath the canvas. I can bounce around like I’m walking on clouds from corner to corner, rope to rope. The velvet coverings on the ropes make me feel more comfortable then in my own bed. One last look around at the crowd and nothing has changed they still want violence they still have the same look of intensity on there face but no yelling, not yet. In fact I hear nothing I tune all sounds out for a good ten minutes before the fight until I hear the bell. Now one more time the bell rings, the last one of my night. I head into the center of the squared circle.