The cage door locks, leaving me to face off against a finely-tuned assassin with some official trained to keep us from tearing one another limb-from-limb.
I had wild nerves throughout training camp, but Coach kept telling me, “Get those butterflies to fly in formation.”
Those close to me rhythmically beat the drum, assuring me, “Win, lose, or draw, we will always love you.”
The bell rang, and the world around me disappeared in the moment.
Exiting the cage, the realization set in: there is no escape from any fear of the future, whether it’s the next prizefight, having enough to eat for tomorrow’s dinner, or even driving home safely from the arena; therefore, live in the now—for as many rounds as possible.