Loveless 12:3

The sun peeks through the curtains of my hotel suite. “It’s been how long? Almost eleven years...and I’m still putting myself through this shit,” I thought to myself as I crawled out of bed the day of the fight. Met up with the rest of my team and went downstairs for breakfast. Breakfast they especially catered to us. It comprised of raw veggies and some pasta with shredded pork….didn’t taste great but its fuel for my energy for my upcoming fight in 7 hours.

Next is the briefing before the fight. Under my request my old coach came to brief me alongside my new coach. They both insist that a second voice is welcomed, but it begs the question…how much knowledge can fit in just one briefing room. They see things certain moves I have to make…some things I must not do with my opponent. We make the final adjustments…watch the tapes of Terrell fighting for the last time. The height will have nothing to do with it…the reach, speed, athleticism will have nothing to do with it…who’s going to win is the better fighter tonight. “You dictate…you dictate everything…everything first…faint first...box first…everything..” my coach said. “Don’t lose or change your rhythm…ever…’cause its what makes you Kelton.” My former coach added.


We had our second meal to put back on some weight we lost from the weigh-ins yesterday I was in the locker room as the event was underway with the undercard fighters fighting. I was in the dressing room running the game plan through my head. I couldn’t sit still…the energy in the arena was so electrifying that it went through concrete walls from the arena to the stadium. I was like a child with ADD…I couldn’t sit still. Every 5 minutes I would get up and shadowbox…I was so energized and pumped for this fight. There was a sudden knock on the door of my dressing room. My coach opened the door, my manager walks in and tells me someone wants to see me. I was in state of mind to go for 12 rounds of war, so I just nodded. Then my manager repeated, “Mrs. Gretsky wants to meet you…yes Wayne Gretsky’s wife.” I nodded, “Bring her in.” She walked in wearing a nice summer dress. She had a sweet scent of perfume on. I shook her hand…she could sense the urgency and anxiousness in the room. She said, “I’m here to support Canadian athletes…don’t get injured…have fun and see you out there!”

It’s time to get warmed up…10 minutes before the announcer introduces us to the ring and play our national anthems…this is the time when it all seems like a blur. I worked the mitts with my coach and shadowbox. I was introduced first and made my entrance to Kanye West’s song “Amazing” while Terrell made his entrance to Jeremih’s “I’m a Star”. It all seems like a blur…a dream…because my ears were plugged so I didn’t know whether the crowd was booing me or not and it felt like there’s a cloud up in my head…

The opening bell rung…he came out strong….pressing the action. I retreated with lateral movement which kept him from landing bombs on me. I lost focus for a second and lost track of where I was in the ring I was close to the corner…right where he wanted me to. He engaged and once again I tried to step away…but this time he cut the ring off and used his shoulder to put me against the corner. I covered up and bobbed and weave as best as I could. Some of his shots went through my gloves and arms but I didn’t feel pain. I just heard “pop…pop pop”…the sound of his gloves hitting me. He was trying to reconfigure my face…but since I felt no pain, I regained my compsure a bit and dropped my arms into Philly shell. He was digging real deep to get the body shots. I lowered my hands to adjust leaving my chin hanging out. And suddenly BOOM…an uppercut smashed my chin…I saw stars for a bit…and was wondering if he broke my jaws. At this point I was back to reality. That punch hurt. And before I knew it another left hook slammed right into my cheek bone….at that point…I knew I needed to get out of the corner. I clinched him and pushed him back hard and box in the clinch to buy myself some time and regain my composure. The sound of the bell concludes the first round. I walk dreadfully back to my corner. I thought to myself…this is only the first round…I got 12 rounds of punishment ahead of me if this persists…As I sat and my coach was giving me instructions…all that was on my mind were my friends and family back home in Toronto. With my photographic memory...I could almost see pictures of them through my eyes…I couldn’t let them down…I can’t give up!
The start of round 2…I decided to take the centre of the ring. A bold but stupid move when I’m up against a bigger stronger opponent. This round was no different from the first he threw me up against the ropes this time and punished me. I was getting bullied and he was throwing his punches with bad intentions…I can feel the power of his punches…I can feel all four knuckles through the gloves when he punches. As the round ended I staggered back to my corner. I thought to myself…this is the price I pay for not training hard before the fight. But little did I know that my opponent didn’t train hard enough either. The Referee went to my corner and yelled, “You have to fight back next round or I’m stopping the fight.” I nodded. My coach poured water on me…this was a nightmare. “Listen. I need you to listen like you’d never listened before!” my coach yelled. “You okay?” I nodded. “You lost the last 2 rounds…” I knew that. “Don’t worry about the last two rounds…it’s a totally new fight now…use that head movement and move to the right like we did in training and make him pay for missing. Press with that jab.”
Third round, he’s got his timing down, his rhythm going steady and established his distance already…something every fighter must complete during the opening rounds and I have yet to complete one. This round was a bit better, I kept boxing and moving. Hit and run. I used my head movement just as my coach laid out. He wasn’t hitting anything…I could see frustration in his eyes. I tried to grab me and throw me to the ropes once again but I stepped back and countered with an uppercut of my own. The sound of the bell marked the end of the 3rd. Now I’m back in the game. “Good job son! Don’t let him touch you create distance with that jab as he’s coming toward you…give me an angle…all he’s doing is stalking and stalking you…that’s too predictable. Stay away from the ropes…you don’t belong there!”
Round four was underway; probably the most exciting round of them all. We both come out quickly eager to engage. I continued to counter on his punches that he missed. He was eating left and right straights left, right and center. I got a little over confident and let my guard down. He capitalized on it…he grabbed me and pressed me up against the ropes and dragged me into the deep waters. He landed a 1-2-3 combo clean on my face. The crowd went crazy…thinking Terrell was about to put me away. The pain instinctively caused my knees to bend and try to touch the floor which would have count as a knock down. I’ve never been knocked down before…never wanted to. I drive my heels down hard to bring myself up. I pushed my opponent as my life depended on it and followed with a 1-2 combo to his body and took the centre of the ring. I dropped my hands and motioned “Bring it on!” The crowd of just over 5,300 all stood up and roared. They were in for a good fight…at least they thought up to this point. Then all that was taught in training went out the window…I didn’t wanted to box anymore…I wanted to brawl like him. I took a beating from him the first three rounds. It proved to everybody here that he was a world class rough and tough brawler…but I wanted to prove to everyone here that I was even better than him at his own game. So we both went after it. It was a total scrap…he went after it and so did I…toe to toe. Non stop action…he hit me and I hit him back and forth…the type of fight everyone wants to see. At one point I crushed him with my right straight and he dropped to the canvas like a sack of potatoes. It was a curse in disguise…it helped me score points and win the round but I heard a snap on my elbow. For the rest of the fight, I couldn’t use my right hand. He got up unfazed and was ready for more. It was stupid; I didn’t work hard enough on my cardio to have the stamina for a bout like this and I was wasting energy brawling with him. By the end of the round I was physically exhausted and so was he.

From round 5 to 12 was a boring fight…he kept grabbing me to catch his breath and I didn’t try and get him off me because I was winded and needed to catch mine. By the 8th round, the boos filled the arena. And by the 11th and 12th round people were leaving. This was not the type of fight I’m use to putting out.
I won the split decision. As the announcer interviewed me after the fight...because I put up a boring fight, they kept booing me even while I was talking…got me a little worked up but tried not hide it. I apologized to the fans for a boring fight and promised a better outing next time…

When asked about my injury, I said, “I’m going to work my ass off until this ride is over. It’s something that I’ll deal with but don’t feel sorry for me; I’ll be back stronger than ever. Although this sport might have dealt me this injury but feelings toward the sweet science is pure and passionate. I’m not gonna let this injury take me over…”