Page 4 of Sucker Punch Drunk Love

“Look, I ain’t saying female fighters can’t be good. I’m just not interested in training someone that can’t take their emotions out of things. And I’m definitely not invested in the time and energy it takes to get them proper fights. I’ve been in a man’s shoes. I want to be able to see myself in a fighter because I know what hunger looks like.”

“That’s the problem. You keep looking for another El Jaguar. There ain’t ever gonnabeanother you. Unless you want to revisit that Puerto Rican kid from Hartford?—”

“We keep going over this, that kid’s like, twenty. Maybe in a couple years, but I don’t see him moving all the way to Newark just to train here.”

“¡Oigame, cállate la boca ya?*! Damn, can you listen just for a second? Most experienced fighters are not going to value what you have to offer because they think they know everything. And you can’t turn down every wet fighter just because they’re not ready. You need to find a fighter, otherwise the good luck we’ve had over the past six months might run out.”

See, that’s why I needed Héctor, because he didn’t treat me like a winner of three UFC belts, so he wasn’t afraid to check me. “I literally had Edgar Martinez in my fucking grasp,” throwing my hands up in moderate frustration. “And here the fuck Vega comes like a fucking vulture. I can’t blame them, but a lot of these new kids don’t have heart. They’re only in it for the promise of endorsements. The recognition I understand, but I want someone who isn’t in it purely for fame overnight,” I argued.

“Well don’t be mad if one day you’re opening the laptop and the browser history is full of LinkedIn and Indeed. I come here for the love too, but ya’ boy needs to stay employed,” he joked.

Deep down though, I knew he was right. My pride was keeping me from training a lot of potential. Didn’t mean we had to take in every stray, but if we wanted to survive another six months, I would have to be willing to adjust my expectations.

Having had some clarity after a weekly mentorship course that went over a little, I was reminded of my time growing up in a boxing gym. It wasn’t as fancy asHouse of Beast—which most may not consider it so, but compared to the gym I’d grown up in that no longer existed—it had taught me everything I needed, until I needed to know more.

Thursdays from 6:00 to 7:15, I gave kids anywhere from eight, to as old as seventeen an outlet to keep their rage in check. Boxing taught you discipline, focus, built up confidence, something a podcast couldn’t do for boys whoreallywanted to survive in this world. You had to feel loss, rejection, and sacrifice to not let it bottle up inside and rule you.

Where I’m from, once you lost a boy, he was devoured by the streets. I got really lucky. And I knew I couldn’t mentor every kid, but I had control over the lives Icouldimpact. Most my kids were Black or Latino boys, or even a healthy combination of both, with that outlier of a white boy every now and then.

Keeping their attention during class wasn’t hard; it was that moment they were all waiting for their parents, or transportation, when they started to get lively. Normally, I just left it at kids being kids, as a group of them were crowded around one of their phones, but when one of them boldly stated, “Damn, check out the one with the fat ass and locs,” I knew they weren’t just doing something innocent and needed to be checked.

“Julio, c’mere,” I snapped my finger, urging him to bring his phone over to me. He looked ashamed, which was the point, because I wasn’t going to let it fly that they were going to be talking about a woman without pushback.

“What did I say about what we do when we’re in my house?” I firmly asked.

“We don’t disrespect people,” he answered, humbled.

“Would you let someone talk about your sister that way?”

“No.”

“Would you let someone talk to your mother that way?”

“No.”

“So why you discussing a woman who might be someone’s daughter or sister, that way?”

“I don’t know, we were just joking,” he tried to poorly defend.

“Do you like it when people make fun of your names, or your accent, or the schools you go to?” Asking as a general question meant for everyone to answer. It surprised me not when they all hung down their heads in shame and answered, “No.”

“Then I better not ever hear you talk that way about a person, ever again. Even if a girl isn’t someone’s daughter, they’re still aperson. If you can’t humanize a woman, I better not ever hear you complain about a white cop not humanizing you.”

“We were just watching a fight, we didn’t mean anything by it. But next time, we’ll be better at our words. Can I have my phone back?” Julio reached out for it, but I was a bit taken back by the person on the screen.

I knew one of them. Or, I’d met her not too long ago. She was at the Velvet Rope Vendetta. Honestly, if I had had my way, we would’ve been taking turns counting the tiles on my ceiling. Julio tried to take his phone from my hand, but I snatched it back, trying to catch the name for myself. I wasn’t truly there when it came to female fighters, so I’d turned her down. Even though she’d come to me, personally. Askingmeto trainher.

But I’d never seen her fight until now. “Have you seen this fighter before?” I asked, in hopes one of these kids had an invested interest.

“I mean, I have her fight card. My aunt likes to go to local fights. That’s how I even knew what to look for on YouTube,” Matteo, another student admitted.

Sierra Medina. There wasn’t much about her on it, which was common for fighters with no draw, but at leastnow, I knew her name.

“Can I borrow this?” unsurprised when he told me to just keep it. Before I knew it, I was in the strategy room, looking up her fights. Sure, she had a rough start. Like most her training had come from a street fight or something. But I could see the progression from one of her last fights from a month ago. She changed the fight once she worked with her legs and got her opponents to the ground.

Honestly speaking, she wasn’t half bad. Sure, she could use work; she was raw talent and could definitely benefit from learning basics but…

¡Mierda?*! Was I really considering this? This was a bad idea, right?