Recession Proof: Chapter Seven

"To the victor belong the spoils" - Senator William Learned Marcy (1832)

After the fight the gym cleared out quickly and all that could be heard was the occasional thud of one amateur fighter hitting a heavy bag and the echo that followed. While Steve showered in his private bathroom I waited and talked with Eddie who told me both fighters knew in advance that the winner would be awarded their first professional fight contract. They knew Steve would be training the winner. There had been a lot at stake.

For most of the ride back to Sal’s Steve remained uncomfortably quiet while I drove the Vic, his dark eyes looking straight ahead watching the road, his hair still wet from showering. I knew enough not to push conversation. Eventually he started talking “Styles make fights! Amadi is a tough kid, but Trace was too much for him. Hopefully Amadi learned something that will help him later on, when he runs into another counter puncher, a southpaw counter puncher...”

I could tell by the tone in Steve’s voice that he wasn’t happy with the way the fight had gone, that he may have anticipated a mismatch going into it, and in Amadi’s best interest, should not have put the young fighter in that situation. 

“I’m gonna be training Trace for his first professional fight and you’re gonna be my assistant. Pack a gym bag next week. You know how to hold a bag? Work the target mitts?”

I tried not to swallow too loud “Oh yeah, no problem.” It was more than I had signed on for.

I spent the remainder of the ride back to Sal’s wondering where I’d keep my loaded .38 while Steve and I were inside Russo’s training Trace McFadden…

To be continued...