The next day I received a phone call 2 minutes after I woke up, “Hey, Wolverine is your elbow healed yet??” I smirked, “Even Wolverine needs more than just a few days to heal connective tissues in the elbow.” “Well, get dressed we gotta pick the dude up from the airport in 2 hours.”
Me, my manager and my coach picked up the Las Vegas “Potential Sponsor” in a limousine. He had this rich man’s swagger. He had a shock of orangey blond stuck straight up from his ovoid head like a toy troll. His head was cocked upward; his smile seemed like a plastic snap-on attachment and his features were flattened as if pressed back by an invisible stocking. He was Hawkin Riggs. The people he brought with him looked rather cool compared to him and were well dressed.
As soon as we meet his face lights up and points at me, “So you’re the stud we are looking for!” With his scratchy voice...which sounded like it was weathered from years of late night partying, drinking and smoking. “The name is Hawkin Riggs,” he continued, “And you are the folks behind this aren’t cha.” He says to my coaches and manager. “Well, let’s see wutcha got!”
We got into the limo on the way to the gym, I tried to relax while I was in the limo…but I was already in that trance…the same one before every fight…the butterflies in your stomach…the nervousness…the adrenaline…I tune in and out of his conversations with my manager and coach, but from what I can comprehend during the adrenaline rush, was him talking about hookers, strippers and getting laid….typical rich Las Vegan or was vacuuming every little training detail that my coach had in his head.
We finally arrived at the gym. I went through my usual training routine….skipping….shadowboxing…going through the mitts with my coach and hitting the bags…nothing less than non stop display of intensity, speed, power and skill. He stood just outside the ring watching closely and talking quietly amongst his people…. I had to show that I was a superb technical boxer with beautiful balance, footwork and punching form…transforming drudgery into a spectacle…performing a genuine craftsman’s passion when done in earnest. During my sparring session, I fully extended my right arm on a right straight and heard a snap on my elbow…shit I reinjured it…I was in a world of pain but I couldn’t show it or slow down my workout in front of all these people and especially a potential sponsor…I looked up at the clock…I had 6 more rounds of sparring left to go and 3 sets of circuit training following it which translates into 50 more minutes to go…I smiled to myself…this will be a real test to my threshold for pain…
The final round of sparring ended, which concluded the blazing 3 hr workout. As I climbed out of the ring…exhausted, worn-out and with
He smiled, “I see greatness reflected not just in the mirror, but also in the potential of those around me today. That was worth my plane ticket already!”
He patted me on the back, “You got my support son.”
I left to wash up and get changed for dinner with him and his crew…leaving my manager and Hawkins yap away at sponsorship deals.
I grabbed my elbow…it was burning like a stove…I could feel my pulse on it. My coach walked in, “You did a hell of a job out there. I’m proud of ya kid!” and my sparring partners rushed in to congratulate me…even though they were all bruised and battered from sparring with me...but hearing the praise and admiration of others that you really care about…the feelings great.
I didn’t want Hawkins to wait too long for me to get ready for dinner. I just pulled on a nice pair of jeans and dress shirt. We took Hawkins and his crew to Celestin on Mount Pleasant for dinner. Here, we got a chance to get to know about one another. He liked to talk in circles around a point rather than getting directly to it. He was victim of the disease called thinking/talking too much. My head spun listening to him. Throughout the dinner, he talked all about himself and I can see that even his people whom he brought to Toronto with wanted him to shut up for a few minutes and give their ears a rest. It took me a while to get this guy but to me at least he seemed like he wanted to be the Wizard of Oz: the little guy behind the curtain, pulling the strings that made everyone around him think he was a big and powerful master of the realm. His conversations were just boasting about how many strippers and show girls in Vegas he’s been with and described in detail how he boned every single one of them. None of us were really interested. He’d check up on every girl that passed by. Girls thought he was a queer. I leaned over to my manager and asked, “I hope this guy is sponsoring us good to put up with his crap.” My manager nodded, “Don’t worry…its good!”
Anyway, dinner’s over I thought I’d bring him to a desert place….I was thinking Panorama. But he had other plans, “I wanna check out hot chicks in Toronto…” he said. My coach suggested he’d go visit a strip club and my manager whispered in my ear to just get him a prostitute so he can shut up and the rest of us can go home and stop hearing his annoying voice. He put his arm around me, “Let me bring you to a place to far beyond your imagination...its a place members only…you rewarded me with your training and dinner and now I’ll return the favour…come with me…” I called up Bonnie (real name withheld) who I met at an import show couple years ago and asked her if she wanted to come join me since she welcomed the idea of meet rich powerful people…I told her to bring her friends so she feels more comfortable.
Hawkins brought me into this ran-shackled place a block from the entertainment district…I don’t even know the name of the place…because we entered through an alleyway through the back door…but he seemed to know the management there. The interior was quite impressive…had the 18th century décor …guess that was the theme. Bonnie and her friends were sitting at the bar. Nearly every male including Hawkins was staring at them trying to muster up the courage to approach. There was a stage at the front…a girl wearing just feathered pasties and matching panties was dancing…somehow she looked too familiar. I could’ve sworn I’ve seen her somewhere. While, I was talking to Hawkins and his crew…I was at the same time remembering where I know that girl from. I took another glance at her again. I couldn’t believe it…it was Jill…it was too big of a shock for me. She was talking the other day about preserving her reputation and now she utterly tarnishing it. She reached under her legs and threw her panties into the audience. A flying herpes rag. A hipster with huge lips…the size of Jay-Z’s caught it. He crumpled it in his fist and thrust it into the air excitedly. His little venereal prize.
I was disgusted…I told the rest of the guys I usually sleep at 12ish and I’m in the middle of training camp…don’t want to destroy my sleep cycle…which was kind of true, yet it was an excuse to leave. I signaled to Bonnie to round up her friends and let’s get out of here. We went back uptown to Richmond Hill and just chilled for a bit.
I’ll fill you guys in on more details tomorrow…and finish up with it tomorrow…got to get some sleep.
To be continued…
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