May 16, 2011

The Fite

by Peter Ortega (author's profile)


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The Fite...

In the ring on the first fight in front of a large crowd is different than actually having to fight in your own backyard cause now it matters whether you win or lose and winning is something you kinda wanna experience to show a crowd. That's how I felt anyway. From childhood it was just fights. Teenage years it's using what my stepdad showed us. Adult years you test limits and wanna keep a reputation you earned. that's why I just done couple fights here and there. But in the ring or cage and the crowd it's the experience in which to draw, that you don't waste sequences you remember, plans based on seeing a fight before entering it. That's what I done in this fight. Now when the bell rang and going in the center to meet this other person in hoping he'll creep close enough and I could end this like I thought before that bell rang, but plan "B" always was there that's what lit the fuel to the fire I had reflecting on keeping that fire I felt better when the first blows were thrown and our landed. On both us fighters that fire burns more and your senses go alert, they usually do, after several minutes I knew I must act quickly or I'd fill cold, I mentally went through each vision while landing punches and being hit back and I knew it would not be easy taking two blows here, there and exchanging back and forth covering myself and striding left and right landing punches on the other fighter on plain views he left open the fourth punch I landed and seen him step back my fire ignited a door opened without noise I stepped in closing ground left, right hooks, jabs, upper cuts quick ones not letting the other fighter gain ground or composure I grasp him to steady his side getting away and like a shotgun blast I let lose those bucks one hand steadying him and the other firing away with that I knew he would be reasonably completed my mouth dry, heart pounding quick glances to see the next landings on this figure stepping around watching every footstep, he goes down, it's quiet blood in my ears loud pounding, or it's seeming like that, I"m watching, the crowds not even stirring, all I hear is one, two, three my opponent budges but goes down, his gain alters and he lays flat again frozen on the mat.
I take a breath, my hand rises, the crowd yells, my heart slows in one quick read, a rest, and another, it seemed forever till that moment he goes down that I'm relieved. It was to me that little receding of that open door that my hand went up and I reflected on that fire-n-fuel but my mind the whole time didn't want that mat or my body to touch it or run that chance. That's the first and the beginning of the whole start, I grew impatient to start with the second fight to see what means I had and if I was anyway good from what I've done and learned I just escaped an act that was too obvious or a break at most. Now in the ring or cage again with another across from me I'm wondering what I can do going over the fight in my head yet I might make it lucky?! It's dealing a stacked deck you get a good hand or you don't!! Head in throbs, pulse beating to the heart's pumps, mouth dry not bringing my thought sto focus thinking, the flow of blood out my mouth, my eye, I'm distracted in my own argument I'm being clobbered, deep in my subconscious I'm lighting my own fire now in my own delirium it comes but with force, with qualities and flashes of my step dad when we were young saying, "Go head give it your best shot, come on don't be weak," that same voice like music saying, "man you got it, you're rushing, slow down, back up, think guy, think," so I do without thinking only listening I back up looking, the other guy desperate with hands to end this as I had been rushing, steps forward, I side step with a left hook catching him square in the jaw, only a boy I see images and my step dad holding the other guy like a bag, I hear, "you're the best shot come on" I step forward and like I'lls told bestest I could I threw a punch left in the jaw, right, and two left and right body blows the bag falls and I seeing that, I omunded it landign the blows securing the fall so he doesn't get up, I'm grabbed and it's over the other fighter face down, the blood pumping in me, the crowd up, I thought to myself man that guy had fire. I turn go to the back where I can see myself and change he did a number on an eyebrow cut and my lip. I guess in the fight I went in a fool but wasn't, went in with no wisdom but in the end I wasn't a fool, had the wisdom at the beginning which was awareness that I didn't know, but I went ahead and trusted luck and that great moment of my imagination my stepdad provided.
I could've been flattened but instead, I listened, climbed, and ended sharp.

Sincerely to the readers...
Peter L. Ortega


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