Chapter Three
Ryan
“You need to work on your striking,” Nick said. “But your grappling is pure perfection. I’ve got to say, Ryan, I’m impressed. When I first met you, I thought you were good, but you’ve gone above and beyond all my expectations to date. You were meant for this.”
I grinned. “Thanks, man. I never thought I’d be fighting at this level so quickly.”
“You’re one of the hardest working guys around. That’s probably why. Everyone else says they want to do well, but they don’t actually put in the effort to get it. You’ve got the right mindset for this kind of thing.”
“I think I’m ready to set up another fight. I was talking to Mark yesterday, and there’s one coming up in two weeks. I think I’m going to go for it. What do you think? It’s with Everett Tyrone. I’ve never fought him, but I’ve always wanted the chance. Man, I’d love to beat him. Can you just imagine what that would do for my reputation?”
I had a list of guys that I wanted to fight, and I was slowly making my way through them. It was a list I had compiled when I’d first started fighting, and I never truly thought I’d get the chance to compete at their level. But in the last year, I had scratched more names on that list than I thought possible. Everett Tyrone was still there, and I was eager to cross off his name. The list was on my fridge and served as a constant reminder of where I wanted to be in my fighting career. Soon, I’d have to make a new list, and I couldn’t wait for that day.
“In two weeks? Are you crazy?” Nick said.
The two of us were sitting on the bench recovering from our training. I looked at him in confusion. I thought he’d be excited to hear about the opportunity. Nick had seen my list. He knew how important it was for me to make my way through the names.
“Why not? I won the last fight. I’m ready. I’ve been training every day. Come on; I have to at least try. Why? Don’t you think I can beat him?”
“I do actually think you can beat him, but not if you fight again in two weeks. Ryan, you have to be smart about this. That last fight was intense. You have to give yourself time to recover between fights. You can’t just jump from one to the next without giving your body time to recover.”
“I’m still training, though. Why is fighting any different?”
He laughed. “Oh come on, you know as much as I do that fighting and training are two different things. Competing is way tougher on the body. Even still, you probably shouldn’t train as much as you do. You should take a few days off; your body will thank you for it.”
I groaned. “I really want to fight that guy, though. What if I don’t get the opportunity again?”
“Of course you will. Look, it’s up to you Ryan. But I don’t think it’s a very smart move to make. Far from it, in fact.”
“So, when you do think I should aim to do another fight then?” I asked even though I wasn’t sure I really wanted to hear the answer.
“Shoot for at least two months.”
“Two months? That’s forever!”
“It’s not really, Ryan. It will go quickly. Do your training, get some rest, and then compete again. You’ll do so much better. The last thing that you want to do is to compete when your body is exhausted. You want to win, don’t you?”
I sighed. “Yes, of course I want to win.”
“Then listen to your good friend and wait a bit longer.”
“I hate you sometimes, you know?” I said.
He chuckled. “I know. But when you win that fight against Everett Tyrone, you’ll thank me and tell me you love me.”
“Fine. But until then, I’m going with hating you.”
I hated that he was right. But I knew from what had happened to countless guys before me, that overworking yourself to exhaustion was one of the worst things you could do for your body. We talked a bit more and watched some of the other guys training. It was always fun watching someone else train. Sometimes I itched to jump in and train with them, but after a two-hour stint, I knew that I shouldn’t. After a while, I got up and headed to the shower.
I was halfway through my shower when my head started to hurt again. I had noticed that my head was always the worst after a training session. I got out the shower, changed and looked around for my Advil. But I’d left the bottle at home. That was unlike me; I usually carried one around with me everywhere I went.
“Any chance you have some Advil on you?”
“Hang on, let me check,” Nick said. He rummaged through his bag and found a bottle. He popped it open, emptied it, and threw the pill at me. “You’re in luck. It’s my last one.”
I wanted to tell him that one wouldn’t cut it, but I decided not to. One would at least dull the pain until I got home to chase it with another one. I washed it down with some water and thanked him.
“Getting headaches again?” he asked, an edge of concern in his voice. “You get them pretty frequently, don’t you?”
“Ah, it’s no big deal. This will help a lot,” I said. I knew that Nick would get worried if I told him just how many headaches I really got and just how many pills I took a day. He would convince me not to fight for a while, and probably even tell me to hold off on the training. It was definitely better if he wasn’t aware of it at all. And anyway, it wasn’t really a big deal. I’d always been a headache sufferer. Some days were just worse than others. It wasn’t anything that I couldn’t handle.
“How often do you get them?”
“The headaches?” I said casually. “Oh, not often. Honestly, it’s no big deal. I haven’t had one for a while. Probably too much caffeine again. Or not enough, maybe,” I said and attempted to laugh.
But Nick was still looking at me funny. “You know, Ryan, if you have a problem, you should probably get it checked out. I still remember you complaining about headaches a few years ago. And didn’t some guy knock you on the head once? Look, I lost the vision in my one eye from fighting because I wasn’t careful. You don’t want to go down the same road. A head injury is a lot worse than what I went through.”
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I got it.”
“I’m glad I’m not your father,” Nick said. “The poor guy must’ve gone through hell raising you.”
I chuckled. “What do you mean? Look at me; I’m a model child.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, that’s what you are.”
I laughed, collected my bag, and the two of us headed out. When I saw what time it was, I chuckled.
“It feels so much later, but it’s not even ten o’ clock yet.”
“Yeah, I like our early training days so much more. We still have the whole day to do whatever we want. What you up to today?”
I shrugged. “Nothing much, actually.”
“Good, maybe you should get some rest.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, my head is fine. But yes, I’ll get some rest, anyway. Happy now?”
“I’m happy. Oh, before you go, I almost forgot to tell you about Saturday. The local fight night is happening. There’s going to be a dinner as well. I’ll get the details, but do you want to come?”
“Sure, if I’m not fighting I might as well go and watch other people fighting. Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Cool, see you then. Get some rest!”
I groaned. “Bye, Nick.”
I made my way home and popped another Advil into my mouth. I’d stopped off at the café on the way and bought myself a big steak pot pie, popped a pill, and sat to eat my food. The combination of the pill and the pie made me feel much better, and soon I put all thoughts of head injuries aside. I decided to take Nick’s advice and get some rest, but mostly because I didn’t have much else to do. But just as I was about to fall asleep, my father called.
“Pop!” I said as I answered. “Good to hear from you.”
“Hi, Ryan. Catch you at a good time?”
“Yeah, I just got home from training, actually.”
“How did it go?”
“It was a good session. Nick works me hard.”
“How is Nick doing, by the way?” my father asked. He’d met Nick a few times at my fights, and I’d taken Nick to the bike shop to visit my father. The two of them got along well.
“He’s fine. He’s amazing. He could easily still compete if he wanted to. The loss of sight in that one eye seems to have made him even stronger than before.”
“Doesn’t he want to?”
“No, he says his fighting days are over. He’s still heavily involved in the community, though, and I think he’s going to get a commentating job at some of the fights. But other than that, and training with me, he’s not going to compete anymore.”
“Good, I’m glad. I know he loves it, but I don’t think it’s good for him to compete and risk losing sight in both eyes.”
I sighed. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew my father was right. I used to try to convince Nick to compete again, but I didn’t anymore. “Yeah, I suppose so. It’s such a pity, though. I loved it when he used to fight with me, and he was always so incredible. I learned a lot from him even then. I think he had the potential to be one of the top guys. But I guess I understand. And at least he still trains with me. So, how’s life on your side? How’s Gunner doing?”
My brother Ian worked with my father at the bike shop. Despite us all growing up with motorcycles all around us, only Ian had decided to join the business when he was old enough. The rest of the brothers had gone their own ways, me included. For a while, we’d all enjoyed being part of my father’s life. We’d all joined the motorcycle club and we’d all been given nicknames to signify that we were a part of the group. And even though most of us were not a part of that scene anymore, the nicknames had stuck. I couldn’t help but call my brother Gunner, and my father Pop. Although, my father refused to call us anything but the names he had given us at birth.
“Ian’s doing well. He’s leading the motorcycle club now.”
“Seriously? Does he stand up and talk in front of everyone? That doesn’t seem like his sort of thing.” I tried to picture Ian standing in front of a group of people and I just couldn’t do it. He wasn’t exactly the easiest person to be around sometimes.
“You’d be surprised. He’s really skilled at it. He didn’t want to do it first, but once he got up there, he realized he was good at it. It comes naturally to him, but I think it’s because he knows what he’s talking about. And everyone loves him.”
“I guess he has a passion for it that’s hard to ignore. I’m glad for him. And I heard he’s fallen in love.”
“Yeah, she’s a nice girl. You should come and meet her. In fact, that’s why I was calling. I wanted to know if you wanted to come and ride with us this weekend. Like the old days.”
“Ah, I wish I could. I have just committed to something with Nick, so I won’t be able to make it. Sorry, Pop.”
“It’s no problem. I knew it was last-minute. And I know how busy you always are with your training. But I thought I’d try my luck, anyway. Well, I hope everything goes well. Let me know when you fight again. I’ll be watching!”
I smiled. I knew how hard it was for my father that all his sons had gone down different paths. But he’d always been supportive of me regardless.
“Thanks, Pop.”