The Champ

walked down the cold snow covered streets of Minneapolis with a bright yellow duffle bag slung over my shoulder dressed in a pair of faded ripped blue jeans, a plain white tshirt and a gray hooded sweat coat with a beaten up pair of tan steel toe work boots. I

was just fired from my job at the super market bagging groceries for financial cuts at least that was the story I got. I was homeless, and broke and wondering about my future. I saw a sign flashing down in the sparkly white snow and it peaked my curiosity it read Dwaynes Gym I went in primarily to warm up and saw about a dozen men, mostly in their early twenties sparring and working on the duffel bags and I realized it was a boxing gym. It was nothing fancy that was for sure, the gray walls had multiple holes in them, the concrete floor had bloodstains on them, the place reeked of body odor and urine, it was almost enough to make me leave, but something told me I should stay. Moments later an older man walked over to me, for a guy who appeared to be pushing sixty, he seemed to be in reasonably good shape. He sat down next to me and stared intently at me. You look good kid, whats your name? He asked. My name is Trevor Vaughn, I said. Thats a great name. So you interested in fighting kid? He said with a bit of enthusiasm. Not really sir just came in out of the cold. I replied politely. Oh come on, what are you? Six foot four two seventy He said apparently sizing me up. About that, but I really do not know anything about boxing. I said trying to be nice. I can teach you. He said standing up. Look sir, Im really not interested. I said trying to leave. What else do you have to do kid? He replied in his raspy voice. He had a valid point, I was twenty-three unemployed, homeless and had no money my future wasnt exactly looking bright. I decided to humor the elderly man and agree to a spar or two. He pointed at some young kid in the corner and waved towards the ring while using his free hand to toss me some protective headgear. Alright kid, Im going to give you some directions and I want you to follow them to a T you understand? He asked climbing up onto the apron of the ring that was covered in sweat and blood. You got itI never got your name. I said as I buckled up the chinstrap. The names Dwayne. Now I want you to hit Marco there with a quick jab. He said pointing to Marco. I did as was told and snapped Marcos head backwards. Good, now throw a jab then follow it up with a body shot. I hit Marco again. Okay, you have some natural ability, now you two have a little sparring contest for a five minute period and Marco, try not to kill the kid huh?! Dwayne said with a snicker as a sly grin came across Marcos face. After the five-minute period, I had busted open Marcos nose accidentally and held 1

The Champ my own against what appeared to be Dwaynes top student. Dwayne came over and told me he had a spare room in the gym for me to stay in as long as I helped keep the gym appearance up. You mean keep the bloodstains and the urine smellI think I could manage that. I said somewhat sarcastically. He laughed and said au contraire mon frere, I expect these floors to sparkle and the gym to smell like a rose garden by eight tomorrow morning. With that, he walked away as the other students showered, changed and left after they less than encouragingly patting me on the back. Dwayne tossed me the keys Dont forget to lock up its a real bad neighborhood here kid. He said before giving me a smile and heading home. I looked around the gym with pictures of great fighters like, Muhammad Ali, Joe Frazier, Sugar Ray Leonard, Jack Johnson and Joe Louis. I could tell the gym had been very old and had not been cleaned in.well ever actually. I grabbed a bucket from the closet and an old raggedy mop I searched under the sink in the bathroom and found an old unopened bottle of floor cleaner and got to work. It was midnight when I began. It was going to be no easy task to get this place resembling anything other than a bloodstained freak show. It was seven fifty nine when I finally got everything to what I felt was clean. As I was closing the door to the closet, I heard Dwayne walk in and growl. Kid? He shouted. Yes Mr. Lauren? I answered. I thought I told you to clean this pig sty up, it looks no different than when I left here. I raised an eyebrow to him, You are kidding right? I just spent eight hours cleaning this public toilet and you are going to tell me with a straight face that it looks no different? I responded very tired and extremely frustrated. Did I stutter? I want you to give me one hundred push-ups. Would you let youre crummy apartment look like this? He shouted angrily. If I had one, and I found it in the shape I came in here as yeah I would deem this look as acceptable. I said standing my ground. I said one hundred push-ups NOW kid! I dont know why I listened; maybe out of gratitude that I had a semi warm place to stay the night before, I gave him his one hundred push-ups despite being completely exhausted. After I completed the push-ups, Dwayne patted me on the back. Kid, I appreciate what you done with the floors and junk. You see boxing is physical and mental, if you aint got the character to stand up to some taunting from an old man them fighters out there, theyre gonna massacre ya! He said with a hardy laugh. Who said anything about fighting? I asked. As I said before, given your back story, this seems bout the only place ya got left isnt it? He asked. Alright, Ill train under you. I nodded. He was right, I had nothing else, no family, and no job not a place to live, I needed Dwaynes teachings and 2

The Champ really, what was the harm in learning the fight game? The next six months were grueling. Dwayne had me spar with everyone in the gym, from straw weights to heavyweights and everything in between. Ironically, you tend to learn quickly that being punched in the face hurts after a while and as a natural reaction, you get out of the way. Those sessions along with Dwayne taking the time to teach me the technique behind the sport, as well as watching films of the greatest fighters in the world both helped my skill set and appreciation of the sport grow. I would spar and train morning to midafternoon then Id watch film from noon to the early evening then my night would be spent scrubbing the floors of the gym and wiping down the walls. I was only averaging about a half hour of sleep but my body was actually gaining some muscle definition. After nine months of intense training, I was set to have my first fight. It was going to be at a local high school gym and was against an unranked heavyweight contender, Alan Michaels. I was somewhat nervous for my first fight admittedly, sure I was imposing at six four and now two seventy-five but this guy had five fights which was four more than me. Dwayne was my corner man and had his youngest son, Barry, who was thirty-five as the cut guy. I wore red shorts with yellow trim with a flimsy and horrendous looking green robe which looked like someone had thrown up on it the pranced around on top of itand since it came from Dwaynes closet I wasnt sure how far from the truth that was. Now listen kid, this guy, hes a bum! Hes just the son of a promoter and is here to collect a paycheck and get noticed by some big league scout. I want you to end it as quick as possible. Dwayne ordered. I nodded as I put my mouth guard in and headed out to the ring. I remember looking around and thinking: This outfit cannot be very appealing to anyone, let alone scouts! Then the bell rang and I was met with a right jab to the eye. I was stunned but quickly rebounded and hit a few jabs of my own. The Body, the body kid! Dwayne shouted, I responded with a couple of body blows before hitting a devastating right hook and knocking Alan down. Ten seconds later, I had won my first real fight. My reward? A new mop to clean the gym. It was after my first fight Dwayne and I really began to connect, when he talked about great fights of boxing past his face lit up like a father talking about his son. Even as he was in mid-sixties, when the subject of boxing came up he had a youthful spirit about him. We soon spent countless hours talking about fighters, watching classic fights and talking about our very different journeys to where we were at in our lives. I was just home from a serving a tour of duty overseas when I had been fired from my job. My parents left me when I was very 3

The Champ young. They themselves were young. I was a product of the streets in reality, I was twelve when I came home from school to find my parents had packed everything up and moved away never to be seen or heard from again. Dwayne, he was an ex fighter who was forced to retire due to several concussions. Despite his battle scars and badly damaged brain, his boxing knowledge was still intact and appeared to be all he had left to love. Both his parents were gone, he never married or had children and he was happy that way. Dwayne was a loner by nature, and even though we had discussions about our lives outside of the ropes, anytime things got deep, he would obviously change the subject and refuse to go back down that path. No ill will was held on my end though, we all have to do what we feel is right to survive. Maybe it was just because I needed something to hold onto in my life at the moment, but as Dwaynes lessons about boxing were being taught I myself began to fall in love with the sport. To many it was a barbaric and violent sport that brought out the worst in a bloodthirsty society, and while that was certainly a valid way of looking at it, another way was looking at two warriors battling it out in a test of not just physical toughness but mental toughness. Who would have that inner strength to pull themselves off the mat as a referee counted to ten after being broken down from head to toe, which warrior wanted it more. Boxing was much more than controlled carnage, boxing was about passion, heart, determination and desire. As my love and appreciation for it grew so too did Dwayne and mines relationship. I had knocked out Alan Michaels three minutes into the first round and generated some minor buzz around the city for me. I was excited and hey, I even had enough money to get a dinner out the deal as well. I was filled with adrenaline after beating Alan and used this to both train and clean up the gym. The next morning Dwayne said my next fight would be in two weeks against a guy names, Thomas Crawler. I felt ready for the fight right then and there but Dwayne informed me that Thomas was a different kind of fighter than Alan. Thomas was a very skilled fighter and was a well-known fighter who bounced around due to bad promoting and just over all a bad attitude from what Dwayne told me. He was short fused and was notorious for dirty fighting like thumbing people in the eyes and accidentally stepping on their toes. I was going to be in for a long night and Dwayne decided to double my training sessions. I had been with Dwayne just over six months and the guy was determined, rugged and knowledgeable about the sport of boxing in many ways I could not have asked for a better trainer and mentor at this point in my life. 4

The Champ When fight night arrived, I was ready and already promised myself with the money earned from this fight, I was getting a new robe. Despite being cleaned the night before, the robe had somehow managed to smell worse tonight than it had before the previous bout. Look on the bright side kid, if that right hook of yours doesnt knock him out, the smell from that robe certainly will. Dwayne said with a menacing grin. That explained it all right there. Ding, Ding! The bell rang and as expected Alan, came out with a fierce intensity trying to knock me out in the first round. Dwayne had encouraged me to increase my movement speed specifically for this fight; he knew that Alan would be swinging for the fences every chance he got. I was able to move out of the way of his attack before countering with body hooks wearing him down a bit. With Alans sloppy strategy, he was already tiring as the first round was ending and I saw my opportunity. I hit him with a series of jabs; two right body hooks then followed it with a left uppercut. I sent him down and the ref started the ten count. I was victorious moments later. After the fight, I bought a brand new maroon robe and locked it in the closet to keep it from anymore of Dwaynes antics. I competed in relatively easy bouts for the first year and had made a name for myself by going 14-0-0, which even for unranked fights was impressive. I must have been good as one morning I was in the gym and heard Dwayne talking to a voice I could not recognize. About a half hour later, Dwayne came in with a huge smile on his face. Kid that man was Lewey Peterson, the manager of the ten ranked challenger in the world, Bobby The sledgehammer Brookes. He wants you to fight him at the Cyber Dome in Minneapolis! Now it will be an exhibition bout, but anytime you get a shot at a ranked contender kid, youre stock goes up. He said enthusiastically. Great! I said knowing this was a huge opportunity as the fight would more than likely be broadcast worldwide. I could finally get some notorietyand maybe even a new apartment and if I managed to win, I could actually get with-in the top twenty of heavyweight fighters. Now since the fight is gonna be televised, we have to get you some new shorts, those ones look like they were woven together by a ninety year old woman who had a bit too much caffeine! Dwayne said laughing. I was in my dressing room pacing back and forth in my brand new Pink and white boxing trunks with a matching robe. Why did you choose pink? Dwayne asked. Because even if I get knocked out, theyll remember the shorts. I said very seriously. Good thinking kid. Dwayne said with a pat on the back. Moments later, Lewey walked in. Hey 5

The Champ guys.nice shorts kid! Lewey said with a snicker. Listen Bobby is in a bad mood so if I was you, Id just go lay down otherwise that handsome face is going to look like raw hamburger! Lewey said trying his intimidation tactic. I dont lay down for anybody! I said glaring at him. Despite my nerves, I was not going to hand a win over to Bobby. I could tell he was upset as he slammed the door shut. A minute later, I was walking to the ring in my pink robe. Bobby was a huge man; he was about six foot seven and looked to weigh about two hundred and ninety pounds of solid muscle. He was wearing silver shorts with a brown trim with a sledgehammer emblem on the back. As the fight began, I circled Bobby trying to see what if any weakness there was on him. There did not seem to be any as he was nimble for a person his size and was not in a hurry to knock me out. We exchanged jabs back and forth for the first few rounds, neither of us able to damage the other. This marked the first time I had to go past the first round in a fight ever. I was going to try and out last him, I felt like my cardiovascular conditioning was superior to his and the longer the fight went on the better shot I had at winning. By the fifth round, I could tell the ogre was being winded and I planned to take advantage of it. I rushed in and hit a flurry of jabs and body shots I could see his legs begin to wobble and knees start to buckle, I had him! After two right hooks and a right uppercut, Bobby fell down hard. The referee began his count, 1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...He was up at eight and the fifth round came to a close. Dwayne felt like I had him and told me to go as close to my limit as I could in this round and save just enough to get the job done if need be in the seventh round. As the sixth round began I charged at Bobby who was visibly still shaken up, I hit left jab after right trying to chop down the giant sequoia tree known as Bobby Sledgehammer Brookes. He rocked but did not fall much to my chagrin. He was able to connect with a couple good shots of his own before the round ended. I was kind of tired after expending so much energy in an attempt to knock out Bobby and was just hoping that I could finish him off in the seventh round. As I went in after Bobby, he thumbed me in the eye and the referee let it go. He was then able to connect with a few vicious hooks to either side of my head sending me down to the canvas. I was tired, my vision was blurry and I was a little loopy too, but I got back to my feet and was ready to fight. I knew more dirty tricks were coming my way, so my motivation changed right there, instead of just beating Bobby, I was going to hurt him. I poked away at 6

The Champ the left eye as it began to swell, first with jabs then straight punches every punch was targeted to that eye until the swelling was so immense the eye was shut. I hit the eye a couple more times causing a stream of blood to spurt out. That marked the end of the eighth round. In exhibitions, there are twelve rounds so I knew I only had three rounds left; but now I had a weakness to target. As the ninth round began, I went right after the eye that while the bleeding was stopped temporarily, I knew I could get the match stopped before any severe damage was done. Hook shot after hook shot rattled the brains of the sledgehammer and the entire right side of his face was covered with crimson mixed with sweat. I knew I was moments away from beating one of the most feared fighters on the circuit. I decided to unload with whatever I had left and the referee had no choice but to stop the fight. As the bell rang, I was breathing heavily covered in sweat and blood from Bobby. This was by far the biggest win of my career and Dwayne was almost as happy as I was. That fight got me in the door; I was now considered a top fighter and was taken seriously as a contender. It would still take a while but I was just twenty wins away from challenging for a world title, of course for a fighter twenty fights is twenty years. I was still studying the sport from the best fighters in the world. I was rededicating myself to cardio workouts as well; I did not want anyone to be able to last longer than me in a fight. My next fight would be in a month against Joey Quick Draw Gunn. Joey was a fast fighter and was a bit of a character as he wore chaps and a cowboy hat to the ring as oppose to the traditional robes most other fighters wore. He was ranked fourteenth overall and I was determined to beat him and get my name even closer to the top. After I beat Joey, I was able to buy a nice cozy little apartment in the hills of Minneapolis and I still managed to keep up the gym as well out of nothing more than loyalty to Dwayne. He had taken me in when I was literally cold and unsure of myself. A year and three months later, I was a top ten-ranked fighter in the heavyweight division in professional boxing a sport I was now in love with. My career and private life were all looking up, I had a steady income, a small group of people I called friends, kids even asked me for autographs when I was out shopping. Life was truly good. It was a rainy April night when Dwayne knocked at my door at one in the morning. I grabbed my slippers and went to the door. I could tell something was up; Dwayne had been to my home one time since I purchased it and that was to watch an Ali tape. He sat down and breathed heavily. Hey kid, Arn wants you to take a dive for Tomko tomorrow night 7

The Champ otherwise there will be trouble for you and I. He said with a look of sorrow on his pale wrinkled face. No. I said bluntly. You think Ive busted my butt for almost two years to throw it all away now Dwayne? I said calmly. You dont get it do you kid? This is how it works! You lay down for the tenth best fighter in the world and we both get a bucket load of cash we can retire! He said almost desperately. Its not about the money Dwayne, I want to prove myself! I have people that look up to me in this world and I will not let them down! Weve worked too hard! I shouted. Im too old for this kid! Dwayne said beginning to sob. Look Dwayne, if you want out theres the door. I said pointing over to the door. He took his hat and left. I was in the dressing room of the Civic Center when Dwayne walked in and said he was sorry about his reaction last night and wanted to know if Id let him manage me. I said of course and we made amends. As the first round closed, it became clear to both, Arn Varlans and Tomko The Whip Steele knew I wasnt taking the dive. That must have made Tomko angry as he came out in round two and began to swing with reckless abandon in an attempt to take off my head. I was able to dodge him for the next few rounds until I could figure out a good strategy, Tomko had no real weakness, he was six foot two, built like a brick house and was merciless towards other fighters. Eventually I was able to start breaking down Tomko with body shots then I mixed up body shots with quick left jabs. It must have resembled someone trying to crack steel with a plastic spoon to the audience but I could sense him getting weaker. It was the tenth round and he connected with a right hook but I barely flinched, I knew now was the time to go in for the kill. I hit him with four body shots and sent him crumbling to the mat unable to make the ten count. I had won thus becoming a top ten fighter in the world! Back in the dressing room, I was waiting for my share of the money when a studio guy came in and told me that Dwayne was waiting for me out back and had a surprise for me. I got my pay for the night and headed out to meet Dwayne. We were in a back alley that the fighters used to enter the building undetected by the fans outside the front doors. Something did not feel right. Dwayne had his head held down and refused to look at me; it was then I could feel the presence of someone behind me. Much to my dismay, it wasnt just one guy it was six other fighters. Sorry Kid, its just business! Dwayne said turning his back to me. The group of fighters proceeded to beat me down in the alley using everything that was not nailed down to their advantage. The most devastating shot however was done by Dwaynes 8

The Champ new fighter, known just as Razor A monstrous fighter at almost seven feet tall and an astonishing three hundred and ten pound. As the other six held my right arm against the concrete wall, I knew what was coming and sure enough, Apollo took a trashcan and pummeled it nine times shattering my right hand and arm. He handed Dwayne the money I had just made as the two got in a white limousine and left me laying in the alley with the rain falling down on me. I spent the next four hours in a hospital bed as doctors were putting my right hand and arm back together again. I wasnt able to feel the pain in my right arm since inside was crushed. I was truly alone again, sure, I had some money saved up and was a recognizable face around town but Dwayne was my mentor and sold me out. I was lying in a hospital bed by myself nobody to share anything with anymore. I felt fortunate still though, after all not many folks would be able to say they were a top ten fighter in the world and I could. I decided that night that my boxing career was over and it was time to get out of Minneapolis. I headed to Boston unsure of my career but I had some money to live on until I decided what I wanted to do. I was a lost cause upon my arrival in Boston just twenty-four hours after being released from the hospital. I was going to hold a press conference announcing my retirement from professional boxing, I set it for a week after my arrival I had time to get a new house and get settled in sort of, I had decided to leave the furniture at the old house since most were gifts from Dwayne anyways. I sat down, right arm in a sling and said, Due to a severe injury suffered in a fight last week I am here to announce my retirement as a pro boxer. I want to thank Dwayne Lauren for taking me in when I had nobody else to go to. I didnt stick around to answer questions and sheltered myself inside of my new brick house in the suburban area of Boston. The day after my press conference, I saw a magazine in the store and the headline read In light of Trevors retirement Dwayne Lauren guides new unstoppable beast into the heavyweight ranks I laughed a bit. It was ironic; the man who was responsible for igniting a love for professional boxing within me was now responsible for extinguishing it just as quickly. As I walked out of the store, I wandered aimlessly around the streets as a zillion thoughts ran through my mind: Where would I go from here? Why did Dwayne turn on me so quickly? Would my arm ever fully heal? All these things were going left unanswered for me. I always heard about shady promoters ironically from Dwayne. He always told me that many 9

The Champ promoters would toss their fighters aside as soon as a younger more attractive offer came their way. I thought he was just giving some sort of life lesson, I guess in a sense he was sending me a warning. Now here I was I severely broken right arm, no career and a new city, I was not sure what my future would hold, but I really didnt want to box again. It seemed like every news station in town was covering my retirement. I hadnt thought I was that big of a deal to anyone. While top ten is good, you are not guaranteed a world title fight. I figured by the next day I would be but a forgotten memory in the boxing world. Sports are like a machine, no matter how skilled you are, no matter how much blood, sweat and tears you pour into your craft, you are nothing more than another cog in the machine, when you get old and rusted youre replaced with a shiny new cog. True, I was only 27 at the time but with a badly broken right arm, which was my power arm, I was seen as washed up already. I plopped down on the red suede couch I had, turned off the television and drifted off to sleep. The next morning I was awoken by the sound of a school bell going off. Great! I grumbled as I got off the couch. I turned onto the local sports station and already Dwaynes new fighter had made a buzz for himself by being granted a title fight just a minute into his career. As they held the press conference announcing that Razor would be facing the current world boxing, champion George The Annihilator Calone another freakishly large fighter. As the two giants stood face to face, it was more like a battle at Jurassic Park than anything in boxing. Dwayne stood right next to Lewey Peterson who was the promoter for George Calone both with smiles as if their sons were about to compete in the world series. I shook my head both in disgust and disappointment, something was fishy, no fighter ever got his second fight to be a world title match, I smelt a rat, and knew one of those poor fighters was getting the shaft. I looked down at my sling clad right arm and walked away from the TV. The fight between Razor and George was set for November 17, 1997 at Madison Square Garden in New York City. That would make it three weeks from the time of the press conference, which was a relatively short period of time. The worlds most famous arena any event that meant anything the world of sports and entertainment had taken place at the Garden. Whether the fight was big on its own merit or not was questionable, but putting it in the Garden, which had hosted many legendary battles like Roberto Duran and Ken Buchannan as well as Ali and Frazier II so, the buzz generated for the sport was great. I was planning to watch it at home since I was curious to see what was going to go down. 10

The Champ Three weeks later I had gotten the event on pay-per-view and watched the preliminary bouts, which were always, more technical than most heavyweight main events, the heavyweights were usually just slugfests and the man with the stronger will would be left standing. I expected a knock down drag out brawl between the two gargantuan athletes. The fight started slow which was to be expected as the two circled one another exchanging halfhearted jabs with one another. The crowd was in a frenzy for the battle of the heavyweights. Suddenly Apollo connected with a hard right hook sending the massive Annihilator crashing to the ground causing the ropes to shake has his heavily muscled torso hit the canvas. To everyones amazement, George was unable to make the ten count after the first substantial blow of the fight. I knew something was fishy, the hook while hard, wasnt hard enough to have knocked someone of Georges size 67 310 pounds out for a ten count. Dwayne and Razor celebrated and embraced warmly. I would be lying if I denied that seeing them so happy didnt make my stomach turn just a bit. The win made headlines all over and the new champ was already being called unbeatable, unstoppable and dominant. All were buzzwords to generate interest, just days after the bout, Lewey dropped George from his roster of fighters, George then disappeared to the islands and Lewey and Dwayne joined as manager and promoter for Apollo. It was obvious what had happened, All four were in on it together and made a giant sum of money after all George was a 14-1 favorite and with it being a title fight they all knew the heavyweights in the gambling game were going to have their own slugfest. I think everyone suspected it was a fixed fight, but nobody proved it and with Razors sob story of growing up on the streets without anything and overcoming the odds to be a world heavyweight boxing champion it made the public feel good. I remembered all the photos at Dwaynes gym, all the heroes of the sport, how many hours Dwayne had spent giving story after story about what made a fighter great and what made a fighter just good. All the time he would ramble endlessly about honor, integrity, guts, heart and passion, it all seemed so meaningless now. I wondered who the real Dwayne Lauren was, the guy who took a young disinterested kid under his wing and would talk with such excitement about the kings of the ring, or the slimy backstabbing creep who turned his back to me as a group of fighters smashed my right arm. Either way I needed to do something, and for the first time in over a year, I wanted to fight. I began cardio workouts as my arm was still healing and weightlifting was obviously not an option at the time. I used the Warriors Gym on Brookline Avenue to start training 11

The Champ again. Some people recognized me, most didnt and that was fine by me. I was still really without any real idea of what I was going to do. I needed a new staff as I couldnt just walk in and say Hi, Im Trevor Vaughn and I want to be a boxer I needed a manager a promoter a cut man and my market value was way, way down. I was a twenty-seven year old man who had a smashed right arm and had not seen the inside of a ring in over a year; it was going to be at best a hard sell. Once my arm healed I was in good shape stamina wise, I had done twenty minute treadmill sessions then moved up to thirty minutes then eventually got to hour long sessions with-in a six week period. Now I was going to begin rebuilding my body, I took it slow, not wanting to push the arm too hard, I still wasnt sure what it had left in it; the damage had been severe. Each day for two and a half hours, I would train hard first treadmill running, then weight training then a few laps around the Olympic sized swimming pool. I felt my body getting stronger; I still had not done any actual fight training though. I had a basement at the house and planned on building a small boxing ring, I didnt need a huge one I just needed one big enough to practice my footwork in, I also going to purchase a heavy bag and a speed bag and rededicate myself to the art of boxing. I still received money from endorsement deals I signed when I was active and while they were set to expire soon I had planned on being back in the fight game by then. After a year of training harder than I ever had before, I started to look for fights. The task would be a challenging one as without any promoter, manager or experience in over a year I wasnt exactly a hot commodity. As expected no real boxing promotions would take me on so I was forced to delve into the bare-knuckle fight scene. Bare knuckle fighting was a totally different animal than professional boxing, no rules, no limits and only your own conscience was youre official; You fought until someone stayed down and without a referee present to keep things safe, things tended to get real vicious and sadistic. The only upside was many promoters and managers had scouts at the fights looking for fresh blood in the most literate sense of the word. It took a while but I was able to find a local fight that was going to be held in an abandoned railroad station and was set for Monday night. The admission fee was fifty bucks, but if you won, you would get three hundred in return. I threw on my jeans and heavily taped up my fists and headed to the station. I handed the guy at the door fifty dollars, told him my weight, he mumbled that I would be fighting Sam Reagan and we were to be up third. The 12

The Champ station made Dwaynes old gym look like paradise, the walls were literally crumbling, the floor also had holes in it, it smelt of must and onions that combined with the body odor dished out by both fighter and spectator was enough to make you vomitoh and there was some of that stuck to the floors as well. I shook my head as I headed towards the crowd of people who were watching the opening brawl and thought of just how far I had sunk. I was a professional fighter on my way up the ranks to fighting the world champion, now I was in a smelly abandoned railroad station set to brawl with a guy whose only interest was to inflict pain. There was no science to this, it wasnt a sport, no this was a place more comparable to the gladiator pits than a sporting venue. To make matters worse, Sam was a crowd favorite as he had clearly seen a few more than his fair share of battles. Sam was an average sized man about six foot two hundred and thirty five pounds, with a scar above his right eye and a tattoo of a dagger across his throat. He growled at me as a spectator said ding, ding signaling the bell. We circled each other before I was able to connect with a couple of shots to the fact snapping his head back a bit. He responded by hitting me low and mounting me then beginning to pummel my face. Yep I wasnt in Kansas anymore! I responded, matching his savage intensity and was able to get back to my feet where I could use my height and reach advantage. He grappled me and hit with some ill-executed body shots before I was able to shrug him off and hit with a pair of devastating right hooks staggering him. Sensing his weakened state, I connect with two left body shots before hitting a right haymaker to knock him out cold. A guy in a white jumpsuit handed me my three hundred dollars and told me that if I was interested there would be another fight next week this time it would be on the boardwalk. Despite its brutal nature, I knew all I had to do was fight in the bare-knuckle battles long enough to be noticed by a managers scout. I went home showered and scrubbed the dried vomit off my boots before going to bed. The following week I arrived at the boardwalk at eight PM and was set to fight, Dave Wilton in the second bout. Dave appeared to be stuck in the eighties, he had long dirty blond hair a five oclock shadow and was wearing acid wash jeans with a white tank top and an American flag bandana tied combat style on his head and one around his right knee. I decided to allow a more vicious streak to be shown, after all these fighters werent exactly upstanding citizens and the sooner I got out of there the better Id be. I was able to make short work of Dave and get home without taking any real damage. After seven fights, I was growing tired of the complete lack of order to these brawls. I 13

The Champ was making a decent amount of money but I knew these were not the kind of people I wanted to associate with long term. Win, lose or draw I knew that my eight fight would be my last on the bare-knuckle circuit. The fight was actually a big deal as far as low budget sadism goes, the top bare-knuckle fighter in Boston known as King Pinn was undefeated and since I was also undefeated (a whole seven fights) it was guaranteed to be a big money fight. It was being held in the basement of Sallys Play House which was a huge nightclub in the middle of Boston. The twist to it was however, instead of fighting in the middle of a circle of human beings, we would be fighting in a circular cage. As I entered the cage to the heckles of the pro King Pinn crowd I noticed a guy in a pinstriped black suit talking with the promoter of this barbaric battle ground, Terry Garvin, he stood out because well he was the only person wearing a suit. I felt right away he was a scout for some manager and knew that if I won I could return to the boxing ring and get of the sweatboxes of Boston. I was taken out of my moment of what if by the crowd beginning to chant Pinns gonna kill you! in a low monotonous tone. Just then a six foot eight inch African-American man came out in black wind pants and a denim vest looking like he was just brought out of a beautiful dream and I had wondered if the crowd was right in there chant? He smirked at me as he slammed the cage door shut signifying it was just him and me and nobody was going to stop the fight. I did what any man would do and attacked fast and hard. The crowd still chanted as my shots had little effect on the gigantic King Pinn. I should have known not to hit his mid-section a guy with a gut the size of four potbellies probably wasnt going to feel much, but due to his girth, I wasnt able to get clean shots to his head. I suddenly realized why he was undefeated through his sheer size and pain tolerance alone he was a force to be reckoned with, but as he began to use my head for target practice, I realized he also had the strength and skill of a raging bull. I was beginning to question how I was going to beat this monster that stood in front of me. None of my shots were appearing to have any effect and on the contrary, everything he was able to connect with on me knocked me off balance. I wasnt going to resort to cheap shots though, then it hit me, then he hit me! Ali was able to beat Foreman by using what would be deemed rope-a-dope It was risky though as unlike Ali, all I had was a solid steel fence to lean against, not to mention King Pinn was the size of two George Foremans. I attempted rope-a-dope and after a couple minutes, it was beginning to have an effect. Given Pinns massive size his endurance was weak, that combined with I was sure his previous 14

The Champ fights were more like quick massacres than classics I sensed it was only time and in a way no rounds actually helped as there was no time for him to catch his wind. As I felt the ferocity of his punches become non-existent, I knew all I had to do was hit a few hook shots and drop him to get out this sewer and get back into a more civilized atmosphere. The clearly winded gargantuan hunched down gasping desperately for air as I could hear him wheezing as he placed his hands on his knees. He looked at me knowing what was to come and I hit a series of shots to drop the monster down and survive the fight thus ending his win streak and shocking the crowd who came to see their monster feast on another victim. As Pinn dropped the floor of the building literally shook as the crowd just gasped, they had never seen him hurt before let alone drop; Even better was I used minimum effort, in effect Dave beat himself. I walked over the unconscious sweat puddle that was King Pinn and stepped out of the cage. As I exited the basement, a long white limousine pulled up and the window rolled down. Get in. A woman instructed but due to the lighting, I wasnt able to make out what she looked like. Once I got into the limousine, I was able to see that it was Vanilla Jade one of the most respected and well-known boxing managers on the planet. Not only did she manage fighters but also she maximized their potential with clothing lines, movie deals and countless other perks. She made boxers respected and likeable celebrities and her apparent interest in me meant nothing but good things for me I hoped. She was more gorgeous in person than I had seen in previous interviews, her long blond hair complimented her very.curvaceous physique. She smiled warmly and said I smelt like an unwashed sewage drain, but she said it with a chuckle so I knew there was no ill will. After telling me that she had sent a few different scouts to all my bare knuckle fights and after watching some of my professional fights she decided that shed talk to me to see if I was interested in being a part of her franchise. I told her of course and she brought me to the hotel she was staying at and we signed the deal thereafter she allowed me to shower. We spent the next several hours talking making an instant connection. She allowed me to stay in the guest room of her presidential suite and let me wear a bathrobe while my one of her drivers washed my clothes at a local Laundromat. The next morning after getting dressed, we enjoyed a nice breakfast and talked about my future career with her. She explained that her reach was global; having fights booked all across the world, from Japan, to Mexico, Samoa even over in England. She emphasized just how huge her 15

The Champ operation was and said she felt as though I could be a huge part of it. She asked why I left the sport for a while and what made me want to come back. After telling her about Dwaynes betrayal, she said she was sorry and unlike others, she seemed to mean it. Despite her rather exotic name, and her high-class wardrobe she was a very genuine person seemingly. Although we had only spent a few hours together, I felt a comfort with her that had been lost since Dwaynes betrayal. She told me that she already had a fight planned for me in Mexico at Estadio Azteca against Pedro Castillo one of Mexicos top fighters and the gate was expected to be close to thirty three million dollars. She told me that she already had marketing campaigns planned for me all I had to do was agree. I readily agreed and we boarded her private jet to Mexico to give me three weeks to train for the fight. Mexico was a beautiful country, full of life and most of the citizens appeared to treat life as if it were one big party. The locals also loved boxing and even amateur events sold out quickly. To have a big time professional fight take place in the country and to feature a former ranked contender for the heavyweight belt made it a must see event. Tickets sold out in less than hour and the gigantic stadium was sure to fill out all one hundred and four thousand seats. This created a lot of buzz and excitement for Vanilla and me as we arrived at the airport via her luxurious private jet. I was bombarded with a bunch of local media and the questions were translated to me via a translator that Vanilla had hired and stationed in Mexico. After a brief five minute interview I was informed that we had a press conference tomorrow morning and to look sharp. I guess I under estimated the fact that not being heard and rarely being seen since the night my arm was broken would generate such a buzz when I came out of retirement. I out in a late night training session at a local gym which was a private gym used by many professional fighters when in Mexico. It was a hole in the wall but would be suffice for the time being. Pedro was a five year veteran who had been in the ring with countless fighters and had an impressive record of 21-10-0 he was a hero to many of the local people and this made me an instant villain. I knew it would be a challenging fight; I hadnt boxed in about two years and only recently began getting back in shape. As if being an American fighter, with a wealthy female manager wasnt enough to turn the crowds against me all the local papers portrayed me as a man of wealth and privilege, funny how they left out the stories of me scrubbing the floors of Dwaynes gym until the early hours of the morning and all the hours of training I had put in before my first fight. I 16

The Champ knew nothing I would say would change the perception of me and Vanilla being a constant promoter told me to embrace being a heel but keep it clean. We decided to make at least parts of the press conference a work, be honest but also sell the fight, if I was going to be a heel might as well be a good one. Hours before the press conference I was dressed in a white pinstriped suit with a baby blue dress shirt and a ridiculously priced pair of sunglasses all for effect. If I was going to talk trash about Pedro, I was going to make sure it was good stuff. To do this I went to the greatest trash talker of all time, Muhammad Ali, for inspiration. After watching a few hours of Ali take cheap shots at his opponents, I was ready to incite the Mexican people ensuring a very passionate responses from them. When I was asked, what I thought about Pedro as a fighter my responses was As a fighter, hes as attractive as he is as a man, which means he has a face only a mother could love and even then thatd be if her vision was impaired! This caused quite the stir of whispers amongst the press and the fight was sold. As I awaited Vanilla in my dressing room I could hear the crowd beginning to become restless, they wanted to see Pedro take off my head then toss it to them as a trophy. Vanilla came in with a pair of turquoise colored zebra striped shorts, which immediately caught my eye, You dont expect me to wear those? I asked cautiously. Of course, look is very important for a fighter, these people think youre a wealthy man, you have to dress like it, fit what they see you as, this means everything from before and fight apparel to your socks has to fit the image of a wealthy fighter. She said with a grin, I knew she was good at her job, but man, those shorts were ugly! As I walked down to the ring, which took forever, the crowd was throwing things at me and booing so loudly I could barely hear the ring announcer. Whatever it was, worked as I could not see an empty seat in the massive stadium and we were told the gate had broken a record. Pedro made his way out next and to say he got a heros welcome would be an understatement. The crowd plastered him with multi-colored streamers and chanted his name. We stared at each other, two warriors set to do battle, there was no personal animosity just a common goal to be the very best at our craft. Pedro started and hit me with a series of quick jabs to the face much to the delight of the capacity crowd. I was a bit dazed but wasnt in any real danger. Pedro then began to combine jabs with left body hooks and this was beginning to take its toll, I hadnt fought in 17

The Champ so long my body was no longer able to withstand large sums of punishment and while Pedros shots werent all that powerful they were jarring enough to rattle my confidence a bit. I grappled him momentarily to slow down the momentum, and for the first time in my career, I doubted myself. I just wanted to get through the first round alive. Vanilla was not pleased with my poor performance and let me know it before the bell rang to begin the second round. While she wasnt as callous as most managers were, she still had an image to uphold, her fighters were the best of the best and so far I looked like a sparring partner for Pedro. The second round began and it was more of the same, Pedro was just too quick for me, I could feel it within me, the swagger I had wasnt there. Truth be told I was a bit brash when I was with Dwayne and since his betrayal, I had lost any semblance of confidence I once had. Here I was in the most important fight of my life and I looked like an out of shape gofer for a well-respected, well-educated fighter. The next five rounds were carbon copies of the first two with me getting little to no offense in. Pedro had a huge smile on his face as the sixth round began, he could sense I was shaken. My body was drenched in sweat and racked with pain in the rib area which had become his favorite target, he felt it wouldnt be long before he was declared the winner; Truthfully I felt the same way, maybe I lost whatever spark I had, maybe the desire wasnt there whatever was wrong with me, wasnt physical it was mental and I had to overcome it, otherwise Vanilla and I would look like chumps. Then it happened for the first time in my career I hit the canvas and it hard, the crowd was blurry and voices were distorted I could just barely make out the referees count. I wanted to stay down right there in all honesty, I had enough by that point I was resembling more of a punching bag than a fighter and Vanilla had left the ring and stadium ashamed of my performance. I contemplated just laying down, calling it quits going back to a quiet life away from all the pressures of being a fighter, however something from within me would not allow that to happen and slowly I pulled myself back up and promised I would not go back down again. As the twelfth and final round began, I knew if the fight went the distance, I was toast in scoring so my only hope was to get a knockout. In the opening moments of the seventh round, I swung with every pint of energy I had left in me and connected with a good amount of them staggering Pedro. The crowd which had delighted in my humiliation just moments before were now cheering me as if not staying down and continuing to fight had showed them a warriors heart and even if they did not like me, they still respected me. With all I had left, I 18

The Champ hit Pedro with a vicious right hook and sent him down to the mat, I fell against the ropes and used them to keep myself up as the referee counted him out, I had survived. Despite my win. Vanilla was less than satisfied and asked me what had happened, I told her I was rusty. In a not so polite way she informed me that another performance like that would end our partnership. I was a bit angered by her lack of patience for a man who had not fought in over two years, but could not deny she was right about it not being physical. Once we got back to Boston, I went for a long walk on the boardwalk and sat by the water and listened to the perfect tranquility of the water splashing against the poles of the boardwalk. It was really the only time in my career I had felt like I didnt want it, and it would be unfair of me to go any further if I didnt want to win. Sure, everyone in life wants to win at everything they do, otherwise itd be pointless to climb any mountain, but for me it was about more than purse money or fame, any great fighter will tell you their drive was neither money nor notoriety, it was to be the undisputed best at what they did in the entire world. Thats what drove me when I started, now I wasnt so sure what drove me. Without that answer, I couldnt possibly go back in a ring. I thought long and hard that night about what I wanted, wondering what my motivation was for even getting back in the ring in the first place. Maybe it was self-doubt, maybe I wasnt good enough to be a world champion, its an honor that very few men have held, being a great talent doesnt make you a champion, having the intangibles makes you a champion, things no gym or wallet contain, heart, passion, will, guts and determination the ability to stare another man in the face with your eyes swelled and nose dripping with your own blood and tell him without hesitation You will not beat me! That was what a champion is and thats exactly what I wanted to be. With that question answered, it was now time to rededicate myself to the art of boxing. I trained night and day, I watched film, read books, worked out in my gym for hours non-stop I would not allow another embarrassing performance like against Pedro pollute my career again. As I was getting in shape and training harder than I ever had, I was also winning fights around the world. I had jumped from a non-ranked contender top a top twenty then a top ten. I knew I was just a handful of fights away from challenging Dwaynes monster for a title fight. In a weird sort of way I was happy for Dwayne, he had managed countless fighters in the past all in hopes to manage a champion and for whatever reason it never panned out for him. Now a year later, he had an unbeaten world champion who was dominating the fight 19

The Champ scene and market, he closed his gym down in Minnesota and went down to Miami and bought an enormous state of the art facility there and had Razor train day and night. It was clear to me we were on the same path like two freight trains preparing to collide head on. Perhaps that night behind the Civic Center set up our destiny, there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to beat him if we ever fought. After three years of global fights, I was finally ranked number one and this meant an inevitable showdown with Razor and Dwayne. The media was salivating at the mouth over the storylines for the fight, sure anytime the number one contender fought a champion it was a big deal but Dwayne and mines history was a well-known story, outside of the little piece of information I chose to keep private about him turning on me, but what they had was more than enough to create an unrivaled buzz. Vanilla decided that with Minnesota being the place that I started and having such strong ties to both Dwayne and I that itd be great to have the fight in Minneapolis at the brand New Ice Berg Center. We set the fight for November 16, 2003 and was the hottest ticket in town. Id be less than honest if I told you the flight back to Minneapolis wasnt emotional. I hadnt been there since the night after the fight with George. Vanilla had booked us in the presidential suite of the Hotel and made sure we would be taken care of. The fight was a little over a month away and I was preparing for this fight like no other, I got very little sleep that first night spending hours in the hotel gym and jogging in the streets. I purposely took the route that would lead me to Dwaynes old gym, the place was run down and looked fit to be condemnednot much had changed. To my surprise, the doors were unlocked and I walked in. Perhaps it was the horrendous odor of urine and stale blood that brought me back to that day that now seemed like a lifetime ago, where I first met Dwayne. I walked around the place for about an hour before sitting down on the bench when I smelt a cigar. Hey, Kid! A raspy old voice called out, there was no mistaken it, it was Dwayne. Hey. I responded dryly. Funny, us both being here huh? He asked plopping down next to me. I suppose. I answered. You know, it was never personal that night kid, Im an old man and saw one shot at

20

The Champ glory nows here we are both ready for a title fight and I cant help but wonder what might have been you know? He asked softly. Knew it was business when you turned your back as they crushed my arm, Im sure you never expected to see me again, truth be told, I never expected to be fighting again. But a month from now Im going to be standing across from Apollo and as he falls to the ground and I take that title, just remember Dwayne, its just business. I said casting a cold glare at him. Maybe its best that way. That broad youre with, shes good for the sport and easy on the eyes. I had a girl once, a long time ago. He said with a seemingly heavy heart of years gone by. The conversation helped ease any leftover wounds for both of us. Reality was I couldnt blame Dwayne, you only get one shot at greatness, Razor was a cant-miss fighter, I was a stubborn young up-and-comer, Dwayne took his best shot at managing a champion. The arm was more of a Lewey thing for refusing to take the dive, never thought that was Dwaynes idea. I locked up the gym when I left and decided to ask Vanilla about Dwaynes observations. Back at our Suite, Vanilla was in a purple bathrobe sitting on the couch watching tape of Razor. Hes good. She said without looking over at me. I sat beside her and turned off the television. This may sound insane, and the source is shaky at best, but is there an outside shot that your interest in me goes beyond business? I asked. haha, youre right.its insane. Now watch this. She said turning back on the television. We spent the next few hours watching Razor fight. It was clear he was a ruthless fighter, but he had never been pushed passed the first round, Vanilla felt if I could use my superior speed and the ring to my advantage I might be able to break him down. It was fight night and the electricity was in the air as the snow-covered streets of Minneapolis were all talking about the Meltdown in the Iceberg which our fight was 21

The Champ deemed by a local newspaper. I sat in the dressing room in a focused silence years of work had brought me to this point, I was set to challenge for the world heavyweight boxing championship in front of ninety three thousand people ready to see a classic clash of the titans. As the crowd filed in, I could feel the arena shake as they roared as our fight was announced. I was in a gold [pair of shorts with white trim and a white and gold robe as Vanilla taped up my fists. We hadnt spoken much all day, we knew what was at stake, and this was our moment. Despite being thankful for what Vanilla had done for my career I couldnt help but think of Dwayne, who announced win lose or draw he was retiring after the fight. Dwayne had broken me in and in a lot of ways sparked my love for the sport to begin with, now we were both at the pinnacle of the sport but on opposite ends of the spectrum, success for me meant failure for him and vice versa. It was time to show him I was the very best and our conversation at the old gym I sensed he was a man torn with his choices in life and I felt bad for him. However, I had a professional obligation to Vanilla to give my heart to the crowd and for her anything less than my best would be unacceptable. I stared across the ring at Razor who was fiercely focused on destroying me, a task he had failed to do in the alleyway. This fight was personal for him and for me, while we both said the right things publicly, inside there was no honor amongst thieves and we were prepared to leave our souls in the ring in order to defeat the other. Both needing to win for our own ego, to say we were the best, Apollo was the champion that made him the best, I hadnt been beaten in my full career and that told me I was the best one of those things was going to change tonight, the only thing that was left to decide was what would be left of us? The fight started as soon as the bell rang and Razor started quickly as we expected. I dodged the opening flurry of his usual hook shots and body shots. I could hear Dwayne shouting not to use the same pattern with me he had with other fighters. Razor was as predictable as the end of a Gilligans Island episode; hed start off with a flurry of hooks, then go to body shots then go for the head. Dwayne was clearly and visibly frustrated with his fighters lack of interest in following his directions as he was very animated in-between the rounds when talking to him. As the second round began, Dwayne was already past his comfort zone but still had a boatload of energy so now wasnt the time to attack. I again bided my time and patiently waited as he tried to connect with wild rights and lefts. I danced around the ring, making a fool out of Apollo as he swung for the fences with every blow. Going into the third, Vanilla told me to start going in for some punches, she knew by 22

The Champ the perspiration developing on his heavily muscled body he was beginning to expend energy. I started with some left-handed body shots and heard him exhale after every blow. I went for a couple of hook shots and rattled him staggering him back. I knew he wasnt in a position to be knocked out so I went back to the body knocking him off his game plan. As the third round ended, I knew he was a bit shaken; as the world champ, Razor had never been challenged like this before. As I was being checked over by our cut man, Vinnie, I glanced over at Dwayne who was reading Razor the riot act in the corner. Despite our deep conversation at the gym a month prior, Dwayne needed to win; he wanted to go out as a manager of the champ. In contrast, I needed to win to avenge my injury two years prior and perhaps more importantly take my place amongst the best in the world. Round four began and Razor had a rejuvenated spirit and came at me hard again connecting with several vicious jabs then a right hook. I was against the ropes and now he was using my face as target practice, I hit the mat hard and heard the referee begin to count. There was no way I was losing this early, after five I got up and dodged Razors next attacks. I landed a nice counter hook and began to tee off on him, to my amazement his legs stood strong though, like red wood tree trunks, always look at a fighters legs when they start to wobble go in for the kill. I pounded away and to his credit, Razor took it all and fought back harder. As round five closed, we both knew we were in for a long fight. The next few rounds was more of the same back and forth both of us trying to take out the other with fierce intensity. As round after round passed the desperation in both our eyes grew, our mangers also, everyone knew they were witnessing history. By the eleventh round both us were exhausted and had taken the beating of our careers, however somehow we both managed to pull our beaten, tired sweat covered bodies off of the stools and go at it yet again. The crowd was no in a frenzy, seeing our fatigue they felt the fight was going to end momentarily, we circled around at a much slower rate than in round one, both hoping the other would fall and this marathon of brutality would come to a close. Razor hit me violently with a hook staggering me to a knee, I got up and clobbered him with an uppercut sending him down to a knee; He got up and we began to exchange haymakers giving everything we had left in our massive bodies to each and every blow. I knocked Razor down with a right hook left uppercut combination and hoped it would be over. At the count of eight Razor got up and smiled at me. I shook my head and we both went at it again trading blows. The round was over and neither of us were ready to call it in, I wasnt sure if we were determined to win 23

The Champ as much as we were determined to not lose, either way Razor had earned my respect. The fifteenth and final round began and both of us were hanging by a thread. We had hit one another with everything we knew, body shots, headshots, and cheap shots, neither of us backing down, neither of us ready to accept defeat. As we touched gloved we both glared at each other with an understanding it was pedal to the meddle and if I lost it would not be without taking a piece of Razor with me and vice versa. We stood in middle of the ring; all ninety three thousand people were on their feet in a roar chanting for both of us in unison. There was no fancy foot work, no rope a dope just two warriors hitting each other with whatever was left in their bodies trying to capture the title of world champion, Razor a tough kid from the streets who scraped and clawed for all he had, Trevor Vaughn, a young man who fell in love with the sport after meeting an old man in a smelly gym in Minneapolis, both fighting for the same goal in front of the largest crowd in boxing history. Razor and I traded hooks to the head trying to win the fight unsure of who was ahead on points and at this point, that wasnt going to be enough, we wanted to win by knockout. Then it happened he hit me hard with a right hand splitting open my right eye, I could feel the warm blood drip into my eye and onto the canvas, I heard the referee start his count and I wasnt sure if I had enough left to pull myself off the canvas. As the referee hit eight almost subconsciously I got back up to my feet, the crowd roared its approval and cheered as loud as they could. In that moment, I saw Razors eyes change, he knew it was over. I exploded with a fury of body shots and broke his body then connected with a violent right cross and ten seconds later, I knew I had broken his spirit. Ladies and gentleman youre winner and new heavyweight champion of the world Trevor Vaughn! The announcer said as I slumped across the ropes physically drained. Razor got back to his feet and shook my hand, I hugged Dwayne and honestly thanked him for getting me started; then I looked at Vanilla who had an ear-to-ear grin on her face and looked happy for me and for her, she now managed the world champion after an epic fight in sold arena on live pay-per-view. I went back to the dressing room and showered then got my cut fixed. I stared down at the world title I had just won as Dwayne came in and asked Vanilla for a moment with me in private; she obliged him and he sat next to me.

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The Champ You know kid, this may sound clich but I knew you was special when I first saw ya! He said with a teary eye. I saw a marvelous physical specimen, then I got know ya and you was smart, you was driven you wanted it more than any fight Id ever seen! Then I got greedy, Razor was a young prospect and I was guaranteed a title fight in just a month, sure, he won and I got some credit but I knew what it had cost me in the process. Kid tonight you showed the world what Is already knew, nobody has more desire to succeed than you, and you know why that is kid? He asked staring through my eyes and into my soul. No, why? I asked. Because nobody fears failure more than you, see thats the secret only a few people get, everyone thinks its talent that makes you great, its fear that makes a fighter great, the guy who fears failure the most is the guy who wins the most kid. Tonight you won the big one on the grandest stage in the most beautiful sport on Gods green earth and nothing in any magazine or any website is gonna take that away from you! he said proudly. Hey champ, lets go out to celebrate! Vanilla said poking her head in through the door with a warm smile. Hey kid, shes not bad huh? Dwayne said with a wink. Nope shes not. I said with a smile as we left the dressing room. It all worked out for the best I suppose. I was a world champion, Dwayne was a grandfather, Razor got into acting and despite our tumultuous past, our fight ended in respect. The mark of a great champion is not how many times you win, how many times you get back up, its how many times youre willing to pour every fiber of your being into what you do, whether its fighting or a job on Wall Street you have to want it more than everyone else around you, that is the true mark of a champion.

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