Story Board

With a little more purpose this time, I went out of my corner and caught the slower Jackson barely off his stool. Moving behind a high guard, I nailed him with a straight right-hook to the body. I put my gloves on his shoulders and pushed the bigger man into the ropes. Jackson responded with awkward rights and lefts that mostly missed their mark.

I was sharper and in my range. Still working behind the jab, I was popping him clean both to the head and body. The crowd was buzzing as this wasn't what was supposed to be happening. I had gotten off to a good start, and was pushing the champion. There were prolly only three people in the building who felt that I was capable enough to be in the position I was in, landing clean, sharp punches, sliding just out of range when he would reach for me.

Midway thru the round, I hit him with a right hand that bounced off his temple. He staggered a little and he eyes glazed for a second.

I started to flash with my punches, to the head and body. Now the crowd was really into it, as they were perhaps getting to watch the birth of a new star.

A short hook, another push, and chopping right hand had him sagging into the ropes near the neutral corner nearest to Beth and Ken. I caught a glimpse of Ken with the towel waving me 'in'.

So I went in.

We'd trade hooks -- he still had his 'strength' if not much snap on his shots. I blazed a three piece then stepped around to get a better angle for a hook - right hand that sent a spray of sweat and blood into the press seated at ringside.

Jackson took off to his left, bouncing at his knees, to be a moving target instead of standing still in front of me. Was he hurt? Dazed? It made a difference, because I didn't want to wade in, and he was playing possum ...

... but I had been landing crisp and clean shots. I meant to hurt him, right? Taking a huge step to my left, I let a overhand right take flight and it found a home!

He'd right away let a sloppy right go, and swept with a couple of wide hooks which I caught on my gloves and arm. Lining him up with my feet at the thirty second mark, I dug in, gunning thudding hooks to the sides of his body, then trying to split his 'ear muff' guard with uppercuts. One, a left uppercut, sent him leaning back on the ropes. I would flail with some punches and the bell rang.

Walking back to my corner to a standing ovation (though as for that, the reality for me was I did nerver really noticed the crowd much. Heard very little outside of 'what's what'), was wondering what advice I was going to get, to maybe finish the fight early.