Unwritten

A brotherhood was forged in blood, sweat and tears. We started our boxing career roughly the same time. We spoke great dreams and aspirations that one day we would climb to the top of the ladder and to bring home the gold medal in the Olympics. Since we were just kids starting out, we pushed each other to the limits to make that dream a reality. As iron sharpens iron, we excelled in the sport to become the best fighters representing our gym. Under the tutelage and guidance under watchful eyes of our coach, it created a platform in which our skills, technique and athleticism flourished.

It was a cold February morning in 2008. Reveille was 6am. I quickly got dressed and embraced the cold for a routine morning run. Today was the final qualifier for the Canadian Olympic boxing team in the 2008 Beijing Olympics. The streets in white snow so pure, it sparkled with the sweet scent of fresh air. As serene and relaxing it may have seen, my mind was quickly focused to the task at hand; qualifying for the Olympic team. The qualifier was a tournament elimination style match. I was victorious in all my fights, advancing to the finals. As I climbed into the ring for the finals, I thought to myself, “This is it…the moment I’ve been waiting for my whole entire life”. I looked across the ring at my opponent. To my startling surprise, Adam stood there in his corner mirroring my disbelief. The opening bell sounded, the 4 rounds that followed changed our relationship and comradery, forever. This was it. We’ve dreamed about it, we’ve talked about it and most importantly, we are passionate about it and we’ve dedicated a lifetime of sacrifice for it. We’ve come so far with countless of hard work, pushing beyond the point of exhaustion and pain. Winning would validate that it was worth it after all. 2008 Beijing Olympics meant the world to me. It meant more than just proudly representing and wearing the Canadian emblem on our team uniforms, but a chance to compete against the best in the world on the biggest stage in front of my home land, my heritage and most importantly the people of my nationality. What had quickly transpired was our rivalry and our quest for supremacy. But in every corner of the world, the quest for supremacy is in some form is evident. Men seek power over one another. The power that gets wealth, influence…and in its strongest forms; immortality – a guarantee of being remembered long after one’s greatest days have passed. This stage is created for the express purpose of determining supremacy.

But sometimes in extraordinary circumstances, the result inside the ring differs startlely from the realities evolved far beyond. Three and a half years ago, Adam and I found ourselves pitted against each other in the ring for the Olympic team qualifier match. And 4 exhilarating rounds of boxing, revealed only how even of a match we were. An evening that yielded a victory in his favour in the eyes of the judges but also an echoing quantity of dispute between the fight fans in attendance that night. The bout hardly determined who was superior. From the time passed since, both of us have become world class fighters. Both of us broadened our horizons; competing around the world in higher profile matches, racking up wins with higher levels of competition and thus, refining our art in the sweet science. However, there can only be one who can rise to a standing that transcends his place in the sport…the Olympics. But inside these ropes, we both know that in its purest of forms, supremacy remains very much unresolved.

I’ve taken my defeat like a man. I never had any excuses to discredit Adam’s great performance as the victor that night. When asked about my poor performance that fateful night at the Olympic qualifier, I simply replied that he was the better man that night.

And as the Olympic trials draw near this time around, it is destiny that we meet again. This is not just another outing for either one of us. Both of us have a lot to prove, personally and professionally. I’ve been carrying this loss on my mind for the last three and a half years. It’s time to settle the score. It’s time to show who really reigns supreme.
This time will be different. I’m a lot better fighter than I was before. My body , mind and soul has never been more primed. The passion has returned; the warmth in my heart, peace in my soul and fire in my blood. The quiet rhythms of rural life have provided an ideal hamlet for training.

So this is where three years of ecstasy and agony, confusion and defiance, anger and tragedy have left us. As two men who agree on one truth; that the only way to resolve our saga is to reunite, and renew scrutiny right where it began. In a place that has no tolerance for conflicting narratives and no room for excuses nor explanations, only a simple capacity to render the most direct of verdicts.

I was once told, “A man doesn’t require the approval of others. He’s willing to follow his heart wherever it leads him. When a man is following his heart-centered path, it’s of little consequence if the entire world is against him.” May the best man win, may we make peace of the final outcome and finally bury the hatchet between us.

Whatever is in the Way IS the Way

[continued...]
I spent the next day relaxing at the pool party soaking in the sun at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino. It was definitely the place to be during the afternoon. I didn’t know anyone there...it was just me, my manager and 400 other attractive people. It was the pool parties that you’d see in movies like American Pie with a healthy girl to guy ratio. I met this guy, Freddy. He initially broke the ice by asking me for some workout tips. His hair was spiked up 5 inches high with the tips that looked so sharp that he could use it for self defence if he ever got mugged. He was a cool guy nonetheless. He bought me a drink and introduced me to his friends which all happen to be girls. They were all playboy bunnies, Sports Illustrated swimsuit models, girls of that nature. While I was having a conversation with them, I was expecting some dude to pounce on me or give me a glaring “fuck off! This girl is mine” look but luckily it didn’t happen. I sat down comfortably on my patio chair with him and his 8 other girls beside the pool. Aside from their good looks, his girls were really well-read, travelled and can hold an intelligent conversation. One of the girls in particular, Stacy and I really hit it off. We didn’t have much in common, however that made it all the more interesting. She’s a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model aspiring to become a nurse. We talked for hours and before we parted ways the ladies and Fred invited me to join them for the night at LAX Nightclub. Looks like we’re in for a lot of fun tonight...
If you ever go to Las Vegas and you get invited to LAX, you HAVE to go. It’s lavish and sophisticated with unrivalled decor, huge oversized mirrors and shimmering chandeliers, creating a modern and luxurious feel throughout the venue. The staff and bouncers really assist in creating the feel that you are of celebrity status. Unlike Toronto, people are more open and friendly. They are able to let lose a lot more, be themselves or be the devil for the night. Stacy kept me busy all night. The night was going perfect...too perfect. Stacy placed her hand softly in mine and led to me to my hotel room. Upstairs, we collapsed onto the bed. It seemed pretty obvious where all this was leading to. So obvious that I saw her begin to get nervous for the first time. I told her a story to calm her down.
The story was not my own of course. It’s about a man and a woman who randomly pass each other on the street one day. They both immediately get the intuition that the other is 100% “the one” for them. And they muster up enough courage to speak to each other. Everything was going well and perfect but a sliver of doubt creeps into their hearts because it’s too good to be true almost. So, to ensure that they were meant to be, they decided to part ways without exchanging contact information and let fate decide. If they run into each other again down the road, then they will know that it’s destiny for them to be together. However, as years pass without them being acquainted with one another again, they eventually date other people who are not their true love. Many years later, they finally pass by each other on the street again, but too much time has gone by and they don’t recognize each other anymore.
“You see,” I told Stacy. “They were lucky that fate allowed them to find each other once. When they both doubting it, it was like tearing up a winning lottery ticket and waiting for another one just to make sure they were really meant to win.”
There was silence between us but not an awkward silence. I could tell the metaphor sunk in. We slept in the same bed that night.
In the morning, I laid on the bed half awake with one eye half opened. She kissed me goodbye and we promised that we’d find each other later since we were hanging out at the same spots in Vegas anyway; we are bound to run into each other again and there wasn’t a need to exchange numbers.
During the day, my mind and body were craving for a workout. I wanted keep my boxing skills sharp. So I paid a visit to the IBA boxing gym for a training session. This is the place where many champions train at in preparation for big fights in Las Vegas. I love going to different places, meeting and training with different people from all walks of life; bringing together diverse ideas and skill sets. Ultimately I love to be around those who have a passion for what they do. At the IBA gym today was IBF Cruiserweight World Champion Steve Cunningham. He was training to defend his world title in February in Europe. He was an athletic specimen...you can’t see a single ounce of fat on him. He was chiselled like the statues of the Greek Gods. We sparred but his 6’3” frame and his 82” reach kept me at bay. He forced me outside where he picked me apart with jabs. He really got the better of me. People can say they’ve met world champions but now I can say I sparred with world champions. It was an honour to spar him and there’s a lot to learn from him even outside the square 4-sided ring. There's no macho swaggering from him. Each day, he seems enchanted by the wonder of the road he has traveled. He goes to great lengths to avoid disappointing anyone yet he came from poor humble beginnings. The ability to fight for survival was ingrained in him as a child. In the ring, he attacks with savage fury. He has achieved greatness as a fighter. But unlike many superstars who rise from poverty to glorious heights, Steve is appreciative of those who helped him along the way and truly grateful for what he has now. His presence is uplifting and he brings an aura of good will.
After training was done, I was in my hotel room looking over the Las Vegas strip. The bright lights almost promised a night of fun and excitement. But I wanted to avoid the big parties or crowded bars and clubs, at least just for tonight. I got in the cab and went to Red Rock Hotel and Casino Resort, just off of the strip. It’s a calmer place to kick back and relax yet still having the sophisticated Las Vegas feel to it. It was very dreamy there. I was quickly seduced by the strong alcohol and hallucinatory music at the banquet hall that was turned into an upscale bar for tonight. As I order another Corona, a woman’s voice to my right asked, “Hey, where’re you from?”
I turned around to see a lightly freckled girl with gingered long hair dressed a pink dress that hugged tightly around her body. She was pretty good looking.
Our conversation quickly turned to stories of sexual adventures and she began talking about an orgy she had recently experienced. It soon became clear that the intent of the story was not just to share but it arouse.
It worked.
She puts her arms around me and pulls me in closer. She leans in for a kiss but suddenly a woman taps her on the shoulder. I pulled back to see Stacy standing there.
“We’re leaving the club now,” she told the girl coldly. “You coming with us?”
“Yeah.” The girl said, grabbing her purse off the counter. Then, to me: “Sorry, my friend’s usually not this rude. Nice meeting you.”
It all happened so fast and unexpectly that I didn’t have time to explain myself to Stacy. I had no idea she’d been in the bar the whole time, just as she had no idea I was there...until she saw me making out with her friend…well not exactly making out but about to get caught in the act. I suppose there was nothing I could say to her anyway, other than she was right when she said that meeting me was too good to be true. I’d already hurt her.
I walked back to my hotel room; I took the long way…taking every step to reflect on what just happened. I always try to be a man of integrity but I fell short this time. As I opened the door to my hotel room, I noticed a box of chocolate on the bedside table. I guess Stacy left it behind for me. Damn, it made me feel even worst. I was disappointed in my susceptibility to my lower impulses, of the fact that it was I and not her who so recklessly tore up the lottery ticket we’d been given.
The next day, I got a call from Freddy. “There’s a sick party…I mean SICK bro!” He proclaimed. “You gotta come check it out!” The tone and sound of his voice was really convincing.
“Did you hear anything from Stacy?” I asked.
“No…why? I thought you were hooking up with her bro.”
“I’ll explain later.” I got ready and went to the lobby to the passenger pickup area where he was already there waiting for me. He was rocking a pink sombrero to match his colourful personality, I guess but I was more impressed by his black Mercedes SL 63 AMG convertible with matching rims. I told him what happened with me and Stacy and I apologized for it because Freddy was the one who introduced her to me. It was also his personal friend too.
“Don’t worry bout it bro,” he said as he shifted gears. “Shit happens right, you know better for next time...” There was silence between us for a bit, just the sound of the wind as he accelerates. “Don’t worry, she ain’t coming to the party today. So just stay positive and have fun. It’s your last day in Vegas ain’t it?”
“Yeah.” I said under my breath.
We parked underground at the MGM Grand Hotel & Casino. It’s the place where historic events in combat sports have taken place. I’d like to compete at MGM Grand Garden Arena one day myself. It would definitely be one of my greatest achievements.
The event we were going to was Wet Republic. It was the ultimate ultra pool party with the ambiance of South Beach combined with a seductively modern vibe. They had two huge salt water pools and this was by far the biggest pool party I’ve been to yet. Freddy seemed like he knew almost everyone at the pool party and he was introducing me to all these beautiful women, models, actress and high profile/successful people; making me almost forget about Stacy and the whole incident.
“Every girl goes around wanting to be treated like a princess,
but I don't need someone to do that…I want a partner in crime," says one girl with a flirty wink as she applies her lip gloss on.
Another girl tells me, “I’m not special…I’m just limited edition,” with a devious smile.
We all have the same mindset here; we enjoy the outdoors a lot more than late night bars and clubs. Instead of the drunk guy dancing on the dance floor, we were keeping it classy here, soaking up the sun sipping cocktails.
For my final night in Las Vegas, I took it easy and headed down to Cleopatra's Barge lounge with some friends. It was a luxurious floating lounge at Caesars Palace. It was an ornate replica of the sturdy but graceful craft that transported the royalty of Egypt on the Nile River in the time of Julius Caesar. The view, décor and the beautiful and cheerful people made it quickly become very dreamy. People were very open and we were able to meet a lot of different from all over the world. In the corner of my eye, I saw a girl that resembled Stacy. I looked again and there she was standing there talking to her friends. I rubbed my eyes just to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.
I walked up and talked to her. She surprisingly was happy to see me; as if the whole incident never happened. My friends seemed pretty interested in talking with her friends. So as hours passed, eventually, it was just the two of us again.
She tells me she’s in a serious relationship. Yet we still get along perfectly.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say, “I’m sorry for making out with your friend. I was being stupid. I regretted it every day since.”
“You’re just a man,” She sighs.
“Are you saying my behaviour is excusable because of my gender or are you disappointed because I acted like a typical man?
“I guess both.” As she let out another sigh. I watch her lips sip her cranberry vodka drink. “I should’ve told you that I had a boyfriend when we met.”
“Is it the person you are with right now?”
“Yeah. But it’s not perfect...not true love.”
“Then why stay with him in the first place?”
“I guess...” She pauses, looks down to reflect, “It’s ‘cause it’s convenient love.”
An hour later, we find ourselves at the Luxor hotel where I’m staying.
She had a taste of some of my culinary skills and then, tired and tipsy, we fell asleep on the sofa.
When I woke up, she was gone. I search the living room, kitchen and bathroom for a note. There was none. The only memory of her in the room was the box of chocolate on the bedside table top. Once again, I have no way to reach her. For some odd reason, I have a feeling that’s the way she wanted it.
That was a few months ago. I’m back in Toronto now. I’ve been studying all night and there’s nothing to eat in the house to keep me going. I opened my cupboard and there it was, the box of chocolate that Stacy left behind while I was in Las Vegas. The candy has turned brittle from age, lost its shape and faded from brown to inedible gray. There is no point in keeping it anymore. It will only attract bugs.

Vegas Chronicles 2011 (Part 1)

So I was in Las Vegas earlier this year. Sounds like a long time ago but it was actually a month ago. I was at CatHouse, an ultra lounge at Luxor hotel with luxe design inspired by the look and feel of a 19th century European bordello. It’s quite the glamorous nightlife destination along the strip, featuring large platforms for dancing and intimate décor surrounded by beautiful people. I was just relaxing and chilling with some on my Las Vegas buddies and my manager. As the night progressed, my buddies floated around the bar talking to the ladies…after all it is Vegas and what happens here stays here. It left me with only my manager at the table with me. It was time to talk business with upcoming fights and promotional offers to consider. Our conversation was interrupted when a middle aged man approached us curly brown hair, laughing eyes. He was wearing eye liner to extenuate his eyes. He had the Jack Sparrow from the Pirates of the Caribbean, kind of walk. Either that or he was kind of drunk. He introduced himself as Andy. He worked as a writer for the Rolling Stones Magazine.

“My buddy over there,” he pointed to a man in the pin stripe dress shirt and pants sitting in the sofa relaxing with his legs open. “He’s heartbroken. He lost his perfect love.”

I watched him for a few seconds. I noticed he had two pretty good looking classy brauds on each side leaning on him. He had a big grin on his face that stretched from ear to ear.

“I wish my heartbreaks were like that.” I laughed.

“Poor guy. Having all those hot women throw themselves at him. I do feel really bad for him,” my manager said with sarcasm.

I was waiting for Andy to stop talking and leave us alone. But when he started telling stories about his experiences he had with VIP concert backstage passes, traveling and interviewing the biggest rock stars and celebrities in the country let alone the world, he became quite an interesting character. Since he was 18, he had been under orders from magazines and newspapers to step in the lives of musicians, actors and artists, and somehow find out who they really are underneath the mask they presented in public. He spoke of playing FIFA World Cup soccer video game on a moving bus with rock bands; Metallica, U2, Kings of Leon and Aerosmith just to name a few. He learned how to survive like the rock stars did without showering for 7 days straight and sleeping inches away from 5 or 6 other people who also haven’t showered for 7 consecutive days. He spoke with their drug habits and groupie orgies…interesting stuff. When story time was over, he invited me to do some jiu-jitsu and submission fighting with him and his boys. He claims that Mixed Martial Arts are superior to boxing. But little did he know I have 5 MMA bouts under my belt. He talked just enough smack to get me motivated.

“I’m actually gonna take you up on that offer,” I told him.

“Tomorrow at 4 it is. See ya there,” he shook my hand and darted out the door. It felt like he scammed me and now he’s running out before I have come to realization that I’ve been hustled.

I decided not to drink because it would ruin my cardio for the challenge from Andy that laid in front of me tomorrow. I took Andy’s challenge pretty seriously and pretty competitively and competition is ultimately where I’m at my best. So I called it a night early even though there were a few cute girls I wanted to talk to at the bar. As I made my way back to my hotel room, people were just heading out of the night and even though the night seemed pretty promising, something inside told me hitting heading to bed was a better option.

So it’s bright and sunny the next morning.

“Sixty-nan degrees which is around ate-teen degrees Celsius for you Canadians,” said the taxi driver in heavy Southern accent, when I asked him how hot it is today. “Yo igloo won’t hold up in dis’ kinda weather.”

“Ya I miss polar bear hunting,” I played along.

“I’m fuckin’ wit ya kid. I know you guys don’t live in igloos.”

I laughed as I paid for the cab fare and gave him a 20% tip...ya I was feeling generous that day. He spread the cash in his hand like a deck of cards. A pretty hot blonde dressed in a hot pink tube top with matching heels, lipstick and nails walks past his cab. He whistles. She turns to see who it was and I can tell she was rolling her eyes under her Ray Bans aviators, covering virtually half of her face. The cab driver stuck his head out of the sun roof. “I’m whistling at the cash…not at chu,” he said as he held up the cash that I paid him with. “So, don’t feel too lucky gal,” he said with a smile. The girl in hot pink gave a cheeky grin, spun around and rolled her eyes. “Vegas girls are like that,” he shouted to me as I was making my way to the entrance of Xtreme Couture, making sure the girl heard ever word of it, “So get used to it.” Even as a cab driver, he never seems to live life unnoticed.

Xtreme Couture was huge for a MMA gym. It had an authenticity that the polished high end health clubs couldn’t imitate. Furthermore, there was an indescribable energy in there that was contagious. Andy was inside already, clustered around a group of men telling jokes to one another. You could tell they were fighters with their cauliflower ears and scar tissue around their eyes. Above all they were all fit. Andy gestured for me to come over and everyone around him turned to see who he was gesturing to. Andy introduced me to the people he was talking to. The gentleman on his right was a guy in his late 30’s early 40’s. He introduced himself as Randy and he was the owner of the gym. The man to Andy’s left was a bald by the name of Frank. The other 2 guys were Erik and Brad. All of them exerted extreme confidence and Frank came off a little bit brash and cocky but still respectful. Randy asked me if I’ve ever fought or ever done this before. He even asked me to sign a disclaimer before warming up. Randy and Frank looked awfully familiar though. I thought to myself where have I seen them. Just then reality hit me. I was in Xtreme Couture Las Vegas, this is Randy Couture’s gym. The myth, the MMA legend, 48 year old UFC light heavy weight fighter was standing right in front of me. And the other was Frank Trigg, the welterweight fighter who fought Matt Hughes and George St. Pierre. I apologized to Randy and Frank for not realizing, I told them it was Vegas and I had too many beers last night but in reality I had zero. I told them I was a huge MMA fan in which I actually was. Randy seems to have less wrinkles, when he’s on TV. I guess he gets airbrushed every time he’s on set on television. As I was training with Randy and Frank, they showed me techniques and tactics used on their previous opponents. They analyzed and broke down their game plan against various opponents revealing its depth and complexity which really demonstrated that combat sports was very much a thinking man's game, the tough guy is going to get hurt in this sport. Frank looked bigger than he did on TV and Randy was just a monster that employed brilliant techniques with in wrestling and jiu jitsu even at the age of 48. Even though Randy outweighed me by 50 lbs but whenever he had the top position it felt like a bear was on top of me. He was freakishly strong, his take downs were comparable to getting hit by a truck. It knocks the wind out of me. They had the wrestlers' trademark strength, power and a strong work ethic. It was a human chess match and every time I made a move or attack, I was susceptible to a counter attack and as professional fighters, Randy and Frank took full advantage of that. I asked Randy Couture regarding his up coming fight with Lyoto Machida. He told me he's ramped up about even though he hasn't started training camp due to his acting commitments for his upcoming movie "Setup" starring Bruce Willis and 50 Cent, release date is sometime later this year, followed by The Expendables II coming out next year in 2012. And of course he's working closely with Affliction on his Xtreme Couture clothing line. I was hesitant to ask him questions regarding retirement. Randy’s words of wisdom were, “When the voice and the vision on the inside become more profound and clear than the opinions on the outside, then you have mastered your life.” At the time he told me that, I was too caught up in the moment. I was working through techniques with him and trying to find ways to establish a dominant position. So it didn’t sink in at the moment he said it.

Later on in the training session, I trained mostly with Andy, Brad and Erik. Grappling with Brad and Erik was a little awkward simply because they smelled like girl perfume the whole time. It was so distracting. I’m on the bottom position and all I smell is the sweet scent of fragrance which brings me to the thought of hot chicks and then I look up, its only Erik and Brad on top of me trying to rip one of my limbs off. It's not wrong to have a sweaty guy on top of you if you're straight...it's what you do with the sweaty guy on top of you that determines it. It was only later that I found out that both of them were adult film stars, aka male porn stars. They had just finished shooting a porno scene and here I am grappling with them.

“Don’t you boys take showers after you do porn,” I said as I cranked on an arm bar hoping he would tap but he rolled out of it.

“Nope, we were doing a scene outside in the desert today,” Erik replied as he passed my guard. “No showers in the desert. Sorry.”

“I noticed you said ‘we’, you should’ve told me earlier that you guys enjoyed were pummeling each other from behind on camera. I woulda been a bit more prepared.” I said as I locked in half guard.

“ ’We’ as in me n’ Brad were both in the scene together in a group sex scene…having sex with females within the industry...not with each other.”

“So boys n girls were sweating and dripping all over each other and you buys didn’t bother to take a shower?” I said

“Nope.” He secured my leg and went for a leg lock.

“Well, thanks for sharing her ‘essence’ with me…I totally appreciate that,” I said sarcastically as I tapped.

He laughed. “Your welcome. She’s a hot! My fav girl in the biz. Kayden’s her name, check her out,” he said with an evil grin. “The industry is full of hot chicks, why the fuck do you think I love my job so much! It’s not for the money. It’s for the amazing sex life.” He was so proud of himself, like a child who’s taken his first shit on a grown-up toilet. If I were him, I’d keep my occupation on the down low. I wonder what he writes for as his occupation when it came time to file his taxes. “One more question,” I asked. “You don’t happen to have STD’s do you.” Erik grab a bottle of Mr. Clean detergent and held it up to me. I got the point.

We roll for 3 hours straight, only stopping for water breaks. We pushed each other to our physical limits until every muscle in our body was sore with the burning pain sensation of lactic acid. Andy told me he loved this feeling, “The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.” He lifted his arms, embracing the moment. “There are 3 things that make me feel alive; training, sex and working out.” It was the first thing I actually agreed with him on since we met last night. Throughout the 3 hours of training, I managed to only submit Andy out 4 times while he and the rest of the crew got the better of me.

When we were all done training, I looked around the gym for Randy and Frank Trigg. They both seemed to have been gone for the day. Everyone who knows me know that I’m not big on taking pictures, but it was the first time in a long while that I wanted to have a picture taken with Randy Couture and Frank Trigg, and thanking them for their warm hospitality and training. It didn’t hit me until later that night that I rolled with one of the greatest fighters of our time, our era, Randy “The Natural” Couture.

What I realized is that most of the time while training with these UFC fighters was that I was waiting for just one moment of truth or authenticity with Randy Couture and Frank Trigg; underneath the flashing cameras, the limelight, the screaming of adoring fans, the professional athlete status and the celebrity persona that masks them from their true self. But once they stepped onto the canvas of the octagon cage, they shook off all the star dust, leaving only their competitive drive and spirited motivation. The training we did with and against one another was a display of their true self and more authentic than any words can describe. After all, you can tell a lot about somebody or a situation in a minute. But only if you choose the right minute. This was 180 of them.

[Continued...]

Superstar

I am not a star. I live most of my life as a normal person, going through struggles that an everyday person would. It’s strange to me when white collar corporate fight fans approach me with envy, congratulating me on my fights, my performance, athletic ability and so forth. But in reality I am the one putting these successful businessmen on a pedestal. Their business smarts coupled with countless hours of studying to obtain professional designations is something to behold. I look up to these businessmen. When my athletic career is over, I hope to be as successful as them one day, working their jobs and contributing to society. I don’t need to be a star in boxing but I fancy the idea of making my mark in the business world. A lot of people ask what I do when I don’t have a fight scheduled or what will I do when I stop competing altogether. That’s when there will be no cheerleaders; no ring cards girls, no public media attention. It won’t be about winning or losing anymore. But it’s my lifestyle to reach limits, going as far as I can go and then going farther. It will no longer be about collecting titles but it will still be about collecting hours…hours of hard work…hours of pain. However, beating the odds, fulfilling my destiny, none of that will matter anymore. But I'm still competing for the ultimate victory. The victory over myself, becoming the best I can be in, every way possible. I pledged my heart to the sport the same way I approach life. I train, play and fight every moment with passion. Displaying dignity, respect and integrity. I’ll be clutch with no backup plan. I’ll always have the drive to succeed, show resiliency in the struggle, humility in the spotlight and the magnetism to be never forgotten. I don’t want to be a superstar. I want be better than that...I want to be me...just me!

Square One

2010 was a great year. I closed it off being sick in bed…not a particularly fun but definitely memorable…in a horrible way. It was a great year nonetheless. I finally graduated; University of Toronto Bachelors of Business Administration. Took me five years to graduate…thanks to me screwing around second year. I’m not a big fan of formal education for it kills curiosity as Einstein mentioned. I’m ready to embrace the new challenges of the working environment. Nine to five! Even though, a second degree, graduate school and/or obtaining a designation (i.e. CFA, CMA) do cross my mind at times, I’m looking for full time working experience. In terms of my boxing career, I usually aim for 3-4 fights a year. Various medical conditions and commitments hindered me from meeting my target. I was only able to fit 2 fights this year. The goal is still to make it to the 2012 Olympic Games in London. However, the lack of progress and improvement left a bitter taste in my mouth. I’m always my harshest critic. I need a renewed sense of urgency and dedication for 2011, or else I can dream on and qualifying for Olympic Team would only be wishful thinking. Even though success is 99% failure, I’m confident I will always make it; my mind is not built for failure. It was a great year nonetheless. I shared a lot of happy moments and memories at my friends and classmates’ convocation. The five gruelling years we’ve spent together through the daily studying grinds, bitching about the sessional prof who can’t speak proper English, the work load, our ugly Scarborough campus that looks like a World War II bunker. Damn, our school is so ugly that the latest Resident Evil movie jail scene was taken at our campus. Geez. But for others, it was a year of breakups with their significant others. I learned over the course of the year to trust and to forgive others because in the end we are all sinners. We were born to make manifest the glory of the divine within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in every one of us and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. Life isn’t perfect, nor is it a mathematical equation where input exactly equals to output. To those who went through a tough breakup this year, I know you notice people around you smiling, laughing and enjoying yourselves while you are wrapped in your blanket of sorrow. They are having a great time because they have made it through the darkness and have come out stronger. Choose to be who you are today; choose to smile, to laugh and to love. Even if you are hurt along the way, don’t let it ever make you stop. You have so much love to give and yes, sometimes it is taken for granted but that's alright, because it touches and encourages others who appreciate it. Life is like a game of poker, it’s not so much of the cards you have been dealt but more of how well you play your hand. As Mother Theresa once said,
“The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; do good anyway…
Give the best you have, and it will never be enough; give your best anyway…
In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”

Carpe 2011!

Apparition

September 10th

Distractions kept lingering during my training camp. I have no choice, for academics top my priority charts. My coach says my patented laser eye of focus diminished for the pre-fight preparation. Veronika calls me calls me practically every to study hard and train like a mad man so I can kick ass on fight night. “I saw him (Trevor) train on the open workout media day. He looks really scary…you better be ready and you better win.” I smiled, Trevor Smith, nicknamed “The Hurricane” better be ready cause a real hurricane is coming for him.
The contest is at super welterweight, 154 lbs. I flew in this morning and touched down at 12:15pm in Philadelphia. I weighed 179 lbs at the start of training camp and got my weight down to 160 when I got to my hotel and weighed myself. It’s time to take a hot bath and sauna to sweat out 6 pounds. The last 6 pounds came off pretty easy. At the weigh-ins he looked ripped but I could tell he was drained from the weight cut. This is someone who is 6’ 1” who usually walks around at 185 lbs or more. His skin on his face was flaking from how much water he had depleted out of his body. I’ll be sure to take advantage of that tomorrow night. Of course, Trevor drew the most cheers from the crowd being the hometown hero while I was surprised that I didn’t get booed much. He was a quiet guy, respectable person who seems to avoid smack talk and let his fists do the talking on fight night. After the weigh-ins, my team and I went out for some pasta at a local Italian restaurant. Veronika joined us as well. “No sex the night before the fight,” my coach says to me in front of Veronika. I laugh and looked over at Veronika beside me. She was blushing.

September 11th

The arena filled up. The crowd in audience was larger than I had imagined. I was the main event and the fight coordinator back stage told me it show time. My entrance song was Eminem’s “Till I Collapse”. He made his entrance with Jay Z, Kanye West, Rihanna's "Run This Town" and when he was introduced by the ring announcer, the arena went berserk. The ring I was standing on was shaking from how loud the place was. It sent chills down my spine. When both our national anthems were sung, the opening bell started off the first round. I jumped at the opportunity to catch him early in the first round. He covered up brilliantly. I had to use my footwork to explore angles. I got him with a few hard body shots and one straight into the solar plexus. He clipped the top of my head couple times but I was alright. My coach told me in my corner that he over commits on his left hook and that he couldn’t handle my speed. So he instructed me to increase my punch volume after I blind him with my jab. Second round commenced, we both started out strong, coming into the center of the ring exchanging blow for blow. I managed to clip him with my left hook on the tip of his nose and he backed away. His nose was crooked to the side. I broke his nose for sure. He backed away quickly and regained his composure. As the round progressed blood was pouring down both nostrils of his nose but he had the fighting spirit within him. He didn’t shy away one bit and actually became more aggressive. The crowd was behind him chanting his name. With a few seconds left in the second round, we clashed heads, the corner of his forehead hit my temple. It knocked the equilibrium out of me and I clinched with him to hold myself up. The round ended and I wobbled to my corner. I tried to walk normally back to my corner to not show weakness but now I was dizzy and for once the distance from where I was in the ring to my corner seemed so far away. I knew I was winning all two rounds. I went to my corner catching my breath. My trainer gave me instructions. For some odd reason my ears were plugged and my vision blurred. The canvas under me felt like it was swaying side to side. My consciousness returned when my trainer Chris punched me lightly on the chest, “Get him this round!” The bell rung and the 3rd round began. He came out of his corner guns blazing and swarmed me. I stayed relaxed bobbing, weaving and parrying through all the punches. He connected with an uppercut I never saw coming. I could practically feel my brain hit the back of my skull. It was a like a short circuit in my body. It zapped all the energy out of me. My legs became rubber. I staggered to the ropes to hold me up. He kept firing shots at me at a violently fast rate. I covered up well avoiding most direct hits. The crowd were screaming on their feet. My head was faced down and the ropes were the only thing holding me up. I was in serious trouble. Suddenly, I had a blurred tunnel vision; my ears filtered the noise leaving only to hear my own heart beat. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. My mind flashes back to my family, friends, my training staff and everyone who got me where it was today. All the hard training day in and day out, I had a vision of them all turning their backs on me and walking away from me. “You gotta fight back or I’m stopping the fight!” yelled the referee. I snapped back to reality. I suddenly felt a surge of energy. My legs stiffened and were under me again. I started to roll with the punches and countered with a hard body shot followed by a hard uppercut straight up the middle. His head cocked back. I pushed him back. He came back at me with his right hand like the punches didn’t affect him at all. I ducked under, torque my hips and came up with a thunderous left hook sending him to the canvas. His body was stiff on the point of impact when my fist connected to his chin. His eyes were open but he lied on the mat faced down motionless. The referee didn’t even do the standing eight count and signaled the fight was over. I helped Trevor up to his feet when he woke up from the knock out. The crowd acknowledged with applause for an appreciation for a good fight. As I made my exit back to the locker room the fight fans stopped me to take pictures and sign autographs for them. I stayed until every single one of them was satisfied. Surprisingly, one of the people that requested a picture with me was the biker who swung at me at the bar last month. He recognized me and congratulated me on my victory. He took back what he said at the bar last month and gave me a sincere apology. He lifted his shirt up showed me his body cast from the punch I threw that broke his ribs. He asked me to sign it and I willingly did. I apologized for breaking his ribs. He replied, “I deserved it champ! Don’t be sorry…you fought an awesome fight tonight!”

Damn, I love putting on a good show!

Cessation

I find myself starring up at the bright white lights in the board room bright and early at 9am. Looks like everyone had a good night sleep except me. The door swings open Veronika walks in and serves us coffee. She brushes me as she struts past me. I turn to her and she winks at me in return. The rest of the meeting went well, exponentially better and more productive than yesterday. The promotion and event seems to be shaping up. It begs the question, am I going to be competing in this boxing event? They forecast a sell out for the event due to the fact that Philadelphians are big fight fans and Trevor Smith, a local boxing standout born and raised in Philly draws a big audience as a hometown hero. So once again, if I choose to fight on the card, I’m the underdog which is a role that I have grown accustomed to now. A sellout crowd in attendance for the event and fighting in the main event translates to a big payout and more money in each of our pockets. The only thing holding me back is the fact that I’ll be working full time at the CNE casino while studying for a full course with exams approaching which is already too much on my plate already. It was too early to make a commitment to compete I normally need 8 to 12 weeks to prepare for a fight and let my body peak but this promotion is in 6 weeks away. I told them that I’ll make my decision one week from today. It wasn’t the answer they were looking for but I hope they can live with it.
Veronika drove me and my manager to the airport with Allison in the backseat making out with him. Before I left I wanted to get her Facebook but I found out she deleted her account. “A lot of guys ask to take pics with me and then they post it on their Facebook and tell everyone they hit it. So I got fed up and deactivated my account." I don’t blame her, I have her digits anyway. Here we are standing outside the departure gates. She gave me a hug and a kiss and I was on my way. The automatic doors of the departure gate slid open and walk through it. A familiar voice yells my name, “Kelton!” I turn around Veronika was sprinting towards me. The automatic doors were closing. I forcefully push the door open. She ran and gave me a long hug and a kiss. Her eyes were full of tears. She told me she loved me and made me promise that I would keep in touch with her. I agreed. It was time to head back home…
A week later I finalized the fight on September 16th in Philly. As an athlete it is hard to turn down competition. When you hear the roaring of thousands in the crowds, the standing ovations; its ecstasy, it’s what we live and train so hard for. Little did I know it wasn’t the wisest move on my part…
Working at CNE casino is probably the most enjoyable job I’ve ever had. I get along with the crew from last year and there were some new faces around as well. The new pit managers took some time to warm up to but I found out that they were sincere and good people in the end. Last year was more fun probably because I was working night shift and the breakfast runs after work were awesome. It made me enjoy all nighters. But this year studying for exams spoiled the fun at CNE casino. I was running back every break to study for exams. I would wake up train for two hours study for another hour and grab lunch while studying and then study for another hour. Then I would head to work and then go home to sleep. On days off I would study for 6 hours and train for another 5 hours. It was a rush to fulfill the tasks everyday but the sport of boxing has taught me to have my chin down, hands up and keep pressing on and army training has given me the discipline to soldier on even under even the harshest environments. Speaking of the army, the highlight of working at the CNE Casino was actually watching the Air Show on my way to work. I never knew it was such a big attraction. The EX was packed with people sitting down watching the Air Show. The spectators stretched from Lake shore all the way to the grassy areas on the Gardiner. It was quite an emotional experience for me. For the thousands in attendance showing their support and respect for the men and women, like myself in the military was overwhelming for me. Secondly, one of the F-18 pilots at the Air Show whom I know personally was also the pilot who delivered an air strike for my team and I when we were in danger in hostile territory in Afghanistan. If he showed up for his air strike just a few seconds later, I would not be writing this. Other than that studying for these 4th year courses also required a lot time, focus and dedication. The stress and monotony gradually built up to frustration which translated into aggression which clearly showed in my training but I stayed focus and disciplined to the teachings of my coaching staff. I have a lot of anger to unleash on my opponent. Normally I need to train a good 5-6 hours a day of training for a fight with one day break. But for this training camp I don’t have that luxury and as a result I can tell my conditioning is not where it needs to be. I feel it, my coaching staff knows it. We never mention the issue out loud but for once I can see worry in his eyes for the upcoming fight. But I’m not afraid, I remember Veronika telling me, “I'm only as strong as the coffee I drink, the hairspray I use and the friends I have…” I don’t drink coffee, I don’t use hairspray, I use hair gel sometimes but she sure as hell is right about the latter part of it…