Chapter 32

It was the 28th of May, fight day. It was good that I remembered that, although I had no idea where the fight was being held. I probably needed to find that out along with what time I needed to be there.

When I walked into the kitchen, Mom and Grandfather were drinking coffee.

“Seeing as I’m just along for the ride today, would somewhere care to tell me where and when I’m supposed to be there.”

“All you need to know is that we need to leave to pickup Ellie by 2:45.”

“OK.”

I went on a walk as anything overly physical wasn’t a good idea in my mind. It did allow me to clear my mind and focus on preparing for the fight. It seemed like it was going to be straight forward affair. He was going to try and pin me in the corner or against the ropes. It was my job to keep that from happening.

Walking back there was a plate with some sandwiches on the table. It was what my grandfather always gave us before a baseball game when my brothers and I were younger. I actually like PB&J with banana sandwiches, it was a comfort food to me.

After eating I got all my gear ready, then laid down and read till it was time to go. Bring my bag down a little while before leaving, Mom and Grandfather were standing around the kitchen table.

They were looking at a large garment box on the table.

“Barnim, come here. Your grandfather had an idea, and somehow convinced your grandmother to assist him with it.”

“I just asked her nicely. Maybe you should try it on her sometime Lilka.”

“Let him open the box Dad.”

It was the kind of box you got clothes in on Christmas. Opening the box, it looked like an identical pair of kickboxing pants to the ones I already had. I could see part of the Cobra Muay Thai East logo on the leg.

“I’ll wear them but my other pair would have been just fine.”

My mom cleared her throat and the look I got meant just do as I was told. As I unfurled the pants I was taken aback. Just under the waistband was B. Badzinski in red lettering, the same color as the logo. There was a 3-inch by 5-inch American flag below that. It was what was on the right leg that had the dust ninjas attacking my eyes. There was a Polish and Portuguese flag side by side the same size as the American flag.

My grandmother must have put in some serious work to get this done. I needed to find some way to thank her for all the work she put into it. It was the exact same brand and size as my other pair, so they should fit. I left my old pair in the bag just in case.

We left on time, although Mom was going to come later since my fight was the main event and wasn’t starting till late. I noticed Mr. Holt’s car in the driveway as we arrived. I was told to stay in the truck as this couldn’t be good. They came out a lot sooner than I thought they would. Ellie climbed into the backseat behind me. It felt good as she rubbed her hands along the back of my head.

“I need somebody to tell me where I need to go.”

“Sweetie, you don’t know where the fight is?”

“Nope, so are you going to tell me?”

“Well, I was given the task of getting the route together. Head out on 20 East.”

I still hadn’t been told where we were going. About an hour or so later I saw a sign saying “Athens, GA 25 miles ahead”. The only place I could think of would be UGA (University of Georgia) and that it would be at the basketball arena like the last fight.

“So, we’re heading to UGA?”

“Yep. When we get on the campus, find a sign that directs you Stegeman Coliseum.”

It took another 45 minutes to get to the coliseum. I was then turned into a pack mule to carry everyone’s stuff in. Master Boripat and Mr. Singh were already there and they waved us over. The check in process went a lot smoother than the last time.

On the way back to the locker rooms, we passed Damian Botha in the hall way. I stopped to introduce myself.

“Hey nice to meet you.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m who you’re fighting. I look forward to having a fight.”

“It’ll be good for me, seeing as I’m gonna stomp your cracka ass. Then maybe I’ll take that little tasty treat you got with you and show her a real man.”

Well that was fucking uncalled for, and if I didn’t have a reason to win, I sure as hell did now. It didn’t deserve a response anywhere but the ring. I looked at Grandfather, he just shook his head.

“Don’t listen to the idiot. He’s scared and just blustering.”

“What the fuck is that foreigner blabbing about?”

That was the final fucking straw. This jackass was going to get fucked up. I was going to do everything to put him on the canvas. I looked him dead in the eye.

“So, you know, that’s my grandfather, and so you are fully informed as to what’s going to happen, let me tell you. You’re going to be visiting the hospital when I’m done with you. Go get ready to get an ass whooping.”

I ushered everyone to the locker room we were supposed to be in. Everyone was trying to calm me down, which wasn’t necessary as I was laser focused.

Everyone gave me some space which was appreciated as I began meditating to relax. Settling my breathing, I tried to visualize how the fight would go, but it just wasn’t happening. The only thing I could do was just let the fight flow and go from there.

There was a tap on my shoulder. Looking up it was Mr. Singh, who informed me that I needed to change. I stepped into the bathroom with my bag. Pulling the pants out I looked at the flags. I loved America, though I also loved the rich heritage of where my ancestors originated. The pants fit perfectly.

Walking out Master Boripat noticed the pants right away, his eyes wide-open big.

“BARNIM, who did those pants?”

I pointed at Grandfather. “Ask him.”

“My wife did that to the pair that you sent me.”

“They are most excellent. Do you think she can make a pair for me?”

“I will ask her; she was slightly worried if you’d approve or not.”

“I most definitely approve, they are magnificent.”

Turning around, Ellie was already sitting Indian style. It was a repeat of the first fight, she began to massage my head, which lulled me to sleep. I was rocked awake, then had to get up and sit in the chair to get my hands wrapped.

Mr. Singh and Grandfather were talking to me the whole time. It was basically trust yourself, trust your technique. There was another about ten minutes before I started warming up. I didn’t want to warm up too early, so I kept it light. All I wanted to do was warm up and loosen my muscles.

When we got the 5-minute warning, my shin pads were put on, and Grandfather held a shirt for me to put on. We walked out, 2 more people with me than the last time I fought. About halfway to the ring I heard a voice that I’d recognize no matter the circumstance.

“Barnim.”

Mom was hollering; she was always obnoxiously loud at one of her kids sporting events. I saw that she was sitting in the last row before the floor seats. Mr. Pope and 1st SGT Gibbs were sitting a few rows behind her. I gave them a nod and a wave as we made our way to the ring. Master Boripat took my shirt and put my mouthpiece in as they did the normal prefight checks.

I stood in the corner waiting, when all of the sudden the PA system came to life. Botha was starting his walk to the ring. I had to laugh when the song “Momma said knock you out” came on. It was a pretty good song though.

He went through the same process I did before getting in the ring. That’s where any similarities ended as he decided to take a few laps around the ring. After the third lap, he stopped directly in front of me and stared.

“Like momma said, I’m gonna knock your cracka ass out.”

“Good luck with that.”

I could see that my not getting mad seemed to upset him. He finally walked to his corner after staring at me for a few more seconds. They finally got to the introductions. When they said my record, only having the one loss, Botha yelled out “Loser”.

Mom was hollering and doing the loud whistling thing she did, she was a one-woman cheering section. Botha got a huge amount of cheering when they announced him.

We got brought out to the center for the special instructions. The only thing the ref told us was that he didn’t want to hear us making comments to each other. I guess he’d already done one of Botha’s fights before, and figured he’d be jawing the whole fight. We went back to our corners and I got the normal “Just fight your fight”.

The bell rang and we both came out of our corners towards each other. He was still using the plodding come forward approach I’d seen in the film. I got in closer than my range dictated and threw a jab. Turned out I was also in his range. We both landed a jab at the same time. I backed up a bit and kept him at the end of my range, sliding away when he tried to move forward. This went on for the whole round.

At the bell, I went and sat on the stool in my corner. They weren’t very happy; it was Mr. Singh who spoke up.

“What are you doing? I saw absolutely no power in your punches. You’re fighting timid, now go out there and fight like we know you can.”

The bell rang for the second round and I started towards the middle at a faster pace than the first round. I kept moving forward. Botha was shocked I was coming to him. Before he could react, I blasted him with a teep-kick. It was a pretty good shot and as he stumbled back, I saw his eyes flash big. Before I could capitalize, he was moving forward at a faster clip than before.

I took two or three punches off my gloves that did no real damage. Though before I knew what was happening, I was against the ring corner. He threw right after right at my head, the punches just kept flying in. I tried to slide out of the corner but got shoved back into it. Body shots started coming in now and I covered up as best as I could to keep from taking any real damage. A right landed just below my belt line and right above my cup. I was down on my knees in the blink of an eye.

I stayed down until the count of 8, then the ref made me walk towards him to gauge if I was still in it. There was a bit of stinging coming from my groin as I tried to stay at distance from him. The bell rang as I continued to back up.

As I turned to the corner, Grandfather was standing on the ring apron; he looked pissed. As soon as I sat down, he started.

“What the fuck was that shit? Go out there and fight your fight. Attack the body and start putting some fucking power behind your shots. If you don’t, I’ll drag you down to the gym and knock you out myself. Do I make myself understood?”

“Yes sir.”

Standing up, I took a deep breath and tried to center myself.

“Now go to work.” That was the last thing he said.

The bell rang to start the third round. I wasn’t at all happy with how I’d fought to this point. They were right, I was being timid. I took the center of the ring and stopped, planting myself right there. This was my spot and I wasn’t giving it up. At this point only the bell or getting knocked out was going to move me. Botha moved forward with his now classic quip.

“It’s time cracka.”

“Yep, it’s time for me to make you my bitch.”

He growled and picked up his pace. I snapped his head back with a jab as soon as he was in range. I followed that up with a power right hook to the body. I took the occasional punch, but I kept up a steady flow of body shots. After a few flush ones with a lot of power behind them, his defense shifted to cover his body.

I snuck a short right hook aimed at his face, which drew his hands up. It gave me the opening I was looking for. I launched a left hook to the body with a lot of power, aiming for his liver. There was a gasp of air forced out as it landed. Instantly I knew what I did wrong, it was a hook not a shovel punch. No upward angle, I snapped off a jab and the bell rang.

Heading back to the corner, I thought it had been a good round. There weren’t a lot of negatives to the round from my point of view. I figured there would be some constructive criticism. Boy was I wrong, grandfather was waiting on the ring apron again.

“What the hell is going on? Your girlfriend puts more power into her punches. I saw you hit your brother at Christmas, you need to find that power.”

I could only nod as the cut man was checking me over. He continued on.

“You need to find the ill intent you had that day, show some killer instinct. When you throw your punches, throw trying to put that fist through the body part.”

“Yes sir.”

I stood up with the bell ringing. When he got in range, I snapped off a teep kick. I just barely clipped him with it. Botha came rushing forward at me and I got pushed back, then before I could react my back hit the ropes. A punch came flying at my head, I was able to roll my body a bit, getting my shoulder in the way of the punch. The blow was redirected enough that it only grazed my face. I tried to slip off the ropes to the right but got caught with a kick to the stomach. Throwing two quick right jabs to the body I tried to slip out to the left. Another kick came. Throwing another jab, I feinted to the left and then went right. His kick hit nothing as air while I made my way off the ropes.