Chapter 086 The Newcomer to the Boxing Ring
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It was drizzling outside the window, and the air conditioner was continuously blowing warm air, making the apartment living room cozy and warm.
Link and Taylor were sitting on the sofa. He was telling her his story, from a troublemaker who had been to juvenile detention twice to a world-renowned world champion. The story was incredibly motivational and touching, but only he knew what it truly entailed.
If not for traveling through time, Link would have just been another ruffian who died in a street fight, himself a nobody who perished in underground boxing matches.
Over three months ago, a miracle had occurred, grafting a fighter's soul onto a young body, giving him a touch of talent, and then life took a different turn. It was like two ordinary plants that, after being grafted, encountered nourishing rain and suddenly bloomed into stunning flowers that amazed the world.
As Link told his story to Taylor, he also reflected on his past, from the boxing bars to the Han Jing Olympics, taking every step with care, not missing any opportunity, and finally reaching where he was now.
So far, he had done well, but he couldn't allow himself to slack off. The path of professional boxing was even more challenging than amateur, and he had to work even harder to continue creating miracles and not waste this incredible encounter.
"I think besides perseverance and effort, luck is also very important, and I just happen to be a very lucky guy," said Link, concluding his story.
Applause!
Taylor clapped her hands and, wiping the corners of her eyes, said,
"Link, your experiences are so extraordinary and so moving. You could totally write an autobiography and share your story—I think a lot of people would love to read it."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
Taylor had been moved twice by his story, her eyes brimming with tears, enough to dampen a stack of tissues.
Autobiography? Link shook his head, not convinced it was a good idea. He had too many flaws, and many aspects of his story wouldn't hold up under close scrutiny. Writing an autobiography now would expose him to the scrutiny of millions, which was too risky.
"Let's talk about it later. After all, I'm still young. Compared to those old-timers, our life experiences aren't worth mentioning."
"Not at all, I think it's fascinating. The stories of those old guys are too preachy and out-of-date. Your story, on the other hand, is just right—like the soup you made just now, it suits my taste perfectly."
"I'll make you soup again next time."
With a gentle smile, Link checked the time on his phone: ten in the morning. It was time to head to the gym for training. He asked Taylor if she wanted to join or if she preferred to stay and come up with new songs.
Taylor opted for the latter. It was raining today, and the balcony here had more atmosphere than the hotel's floor-to-ceiling windows. Writing songs while watching the rain here would feel more inspiring.
Naturally, Link was more than happy to oblige. Having someone at home meant he would have something to look forward to when he returned in the afternoon.
After giving Taylor some instructions, he grabbed his training bag and drove to the boxing gym on 34th Street in Queens.
This place was one of the main event promotion company's training venues and also served as Dynasty Promotion's temporary training site, for which Dynasty paid the main event $200,000 in training fees.
The facility included not only a training venue but also a fitness center, a medical treatment center, a bathhouse, and a boxer's nutrition restaurant, among other amenities. It was quite large and well-equipped.
Evander Holyfield, Bernal Whitaker, Hector Camacho, Mitchell Muller, Andrew Golota, and other boxing champions from the 80s and 90s once trained here, accounting for about a third of the champions from that era. It could also be dubbed the cradle of champions.
But as Lou Duvall aged, so did the champions he'd chosen and nurtured.
Today, the active boxers in the ring include only the former world champion Holyfield, former WBC International Heavyweight champion David Tua, former WBA-WBC-IBF Welterweight champion Zab Judah, and so on. The rest were mostly new recruits who were not very famous.
When Link, carrying his sports bag, stepped into the training venue, someone shouted, "The champ is here!" and everyone training in the gym halted their activities and turned to look at the entrance.
Link also looked over at them. There were over forty people from the Super Heavyweight to the Lightweight classes, all strong men with muscular builds, the majority with dark skin, resembling a camp of gladiators.
"Hi, good morning gentlemen. No need for welcomes; everyone, please continue with your training," said Link, waving his hand.
The boxers present murmured among themselves—some admiring, some envious, some eager to try their luck.
Since the show "Follow the Champion to Watch Boxing" went on air, everyone knew his punches were no lighter than those of heavyweight champions. What was key was that his speed was also rapid, his technique good, and he had a sharp mind.
"Ring Magazine" featured him on the cover of its September issue, hailing him as a natural-born boxer and suggesting that after turning to professional boxing this year, he could potentially rank in the top three on the Ring Magazine P4P Super Middleweight list.
These comments had cast a halo of a strong fighter over Link.
The phenomenon of the survival of the fittest in the boxing world was more apparent and more direct than in other fields.
Powerful boxers could earn hundreds of millions of dollars in minutes, while the weak ones made less than miners did in a year.
Being powerful also meant being wealthy; it showed the gap between classes.
Even if someone wanted to come up and strike up a conversation, they would hesitate due to this gap.
This disparity was also reflected in their training.
The training areas for boxers on-site were also different. The formidable fighters had separate training spaces with good lighting and ventilation, a complete coaching team, and logistical medical staff. It was said that even the masseuses were better looking and had better figures.
The ordinary boxers and newcomers could only use the public training area.
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"Link, you're here. Your training area is over here,"
Assistant Simon greeted as he came down the corridor.
A slim Caucasian youth accompanied him, around 180 centimeters tall, with a thin face and shoulder-length hair, revealing arms covered in blue tattoos, including three Chinese characters '猪油米' which left Link puzzled about their significance.
"Hey, are you Link Baker? I'm a welterweight boxer; how about we have a match?" yelled the '猪油米' youth.
Link looked at Simon, who introduced with a smile, "This is Dino Duva, a boxing enthusiast."
Dino Duva was Franco's brother, and Link hadn't expected Franco's brother to look like this. He had seen photos of Dino dressed in a suit looking quite respectable, but now he seemed far less so.
"Hey, Link, how about a bout between us? Let me see just how big the gap is between me and a world champion,"
said Dino, rolling his fists.
Simon said, "Cut it out, Dino. Even the world champion Altayev would get knocked down by Link, you'd get killed stepping into the ring with him."
"How will we know unless we try? Come on, Link, let me experience the power of your fists and see if you can KO me,"
declared Dino, patting his forehead.
Link glanced at him, thinking the guy must have something wrong with his brain—to actually come asking for a KO.
He shook his head and walked into a separate training area.
According to Simon, the nearby training area belonged to 'Iron' David Tua, the New Zealand boxing king, 36 years old, WBC heavyweight intercontinental champion, who had defeated the likes of Chris Byrd and Hashim Rahman.
Unfortunately, he never claimed a world championship title and was known as the 'uncrowned king.' Lately, he had been training in New Zealand, aiming for the WBC heavyweight world championship, so he wasn't at the gym.
"Hey, Link, great to see you again,"
said Morales, jumping down from the boxing ring, drenched in sweat, and stretching his arms toward him.
Link chuckled and embraced him, quite satisfied with this comrade and sparring partner.
"Good morning, Link. Starting today, I am your boxing coach. These are Tubbs and Curry; they will also be your sparring partners,"
said a middle-aged black man among three others under the boxing ring. In his forties, with unkempt gray curls, he wore a blue tracksuit.
Link recognized this man; he was Tommy Brooks, Lou Duva's son-in-law, and a central figure at the main event training camp.
In the early nineties, he had coached Holyfield for five years, including the devising of strategies on the spot that helped Holyfield defeat Tyson twice.
In 2000, he also coached Tyson, helping him adjust his condition and secure four consecutive victories.
He had publicly evaluated Tyson, Lewis, and Holyfield, stating that Tyson's talent was unmatched and much stronger than the latter two. However, Tyson's self-discipline was very poor; before each training session, they had to resort to various means to keep him focused on training and competing.
This was a significant drawback compared to the other two, and it was this that ruined Tyson's professional career.
Brooks had also advised over twenty top fighters, including the Klitschko brothers, and for three consecutive years, Ring Magazine had ranked him as one of the top ten golden coaches in boxing.
"Hello, Mr. Brooks, I'm looking forward to your guidance,"
said Link, shaking his hand.
"Haha, Link, I've heard a lot about you. You're already exceptional, and it's my honor to coach you. In the upcoming training, I might have a lot of suggestions. I hope you won't find me too nagging,"
laughed Tommy Brooks.
"Tommy, you know you can be a chatterbox. I don't think Link, this proud guy, will be able to stand it," said Dino Duva from the doorway.
"Shut it, Dino!"
Brooks glared at him before laughing and turning back to Link, "How about we give it a try?"
"Sure!"
Initially, Link wanted to call over Coach West and his team, but the distance was too great, and Coach West was getting on in years, looking after dozens of students and apprentices, unable to spare any time.
Regarding the contract with Coach West, Franco initially planned to buy it out for a million US dollars.
However, Coach West didn't want the money. He said that as long as Link focused on fighting well and earned more honors, ideally winning a world championship title, that would be the best reward for the gym.
For West, honor mattered more than money.
During his time at West's gym, Link had won the Golden Gloves Championship, the American Qualifiers, and an Olympic Championship. The news about him always mentioned that his coach was the former boxer West Corian.
Reggie said that these days West was always cheerful and in high spirits.
After changing into his gear and warming up in the equipment area, Link began his day's training under Brooks' guidance.