Marcelo, four-time heavyweight world boxing champion, has fame, money, faithful friends, and a beloved wife—until one day, it all comes tumbling down. Lost and alone, Marcelo can’t even conceive that his family would still love a loser. But drugs and sex don’t exactly turn him back into a winner. He’s about to face the toughest fight of his life.
Age Rating: 18+
Chapter 1
Four-Time Champion of the WorldChapter 2
We Have to CelebrateChapter 3
The New ChallengerChapter 4
The Next DaySPORTSCASTER
“There is Hugo Lawrence, trying to lead the champion to the ropes. He’s trying to find the perfect opportunity to strike. But Marcelo’s defense is impenetrable. Hugo is losing his sanity.
“We can see in his movements that the failure to connect his punches is making him more desperate by the minute. THE CHAMPION LAUGHS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!
“Marcelo has no weak points. He seems invincible. Attention!! He’s cornering him. This may be the opening Hugo was so looking for to land a right hand.
“Oh! Noooo! He lost it. He missed the opportunity, managing only to fan in the face of the champion.
“Marcelo laughs again. Our champion even has the luxury of saying NO to his opponent with the finger! Ladies and gentlemen, our champion has all the confidence in the world.
“But the challenger does not give up. The number of jabs he’s throwing is surprising. Marcelo dodges all of them, with movements of the waist and knees.
“But now it is Marcelo who surprises the challenger, making a series of combinations between defense and uppers. OOOOH!!! Hugo Lawrence dodges it. The champion’s famous upper, fan in the air.
“The challenger positions himself on offense again, throwing more jabs and an uppercut. But the champion, as if he saw it in slow motion, dodges them all. This is speed.
“In all my years as a sportscaster, I had never contemplated this. THE CHAMPION IS A MONSTER, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!!
“We are already reaching the end of the ninth round, and neither of the contenders seems weakened. The two of them are standing opposite each other, studying.
“It’s the champion’s turn to attack. He’s looking for a hole, a loop. And he finds it. He connects a rectum to Hugo’s nose, making him take a few steps back.”
RINGGGGGGG!
“The bell rings, and the opponents retreat to their corresponding corners. The champion is wearing a smile, while the challenger looks worried. In this round, the champion takes ten points, and nine for Hugo Lawrence.
“We can see the corner of the challenger, as his team is trying to stop the bleeding that the champion’s blow gave him when he connected with his nose.
“The outlook is not good for Hugo. And in Marcelo’s corner, our champion hasn’t lost his smile.
“He interacts with the public and blows kisses to a group of fans who are cheering him on from their seats. This man is quite a character.
RINGGGGGGGG!
“The bell rings. This is the tenth round, and things are not looking even. The challenger is no longer as animated as when he started.
“But he comes with everything. He lunges at the champion with a series of jabs, AND CONNECTS!! Point for Hugo Lawrence.
“Marcelo protects his side and counterattacks with a powerful hook to the liver and some jabs. The challenger doubles and yet manages to evade more blows from the champion. The two embrace.
“However, Marcelo tries to get out of the hold. The referee has to intervene. Apparently, this last blow hurt the opponent quite badly.
“Everything seems to indicate that Marcelo Walker is waiting for the challenger’s defense to completely fade.
“Marcelo is beginning to exert pressure. He’s cornering him and HITTING TO THE JAW! The challenger loses his balance and falls on the ropes. The referee immediately assists him.
“Hugo Lawrence nods his head that he’s okay. The referee starts counting, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. The challenger is in the game again. Marcelo is waiting for him, and JAABBBBBBB!!!
“That blow sends him to the ground. We can see Hugo Lawrence is trying to lift his head and regain consciousness. The referee is by his side, trying to keep Marcelo away.
“The referee starts the count: One, two. But we see the challenger trying to join, and it is difficult for him. Three, four. Hugo stands up, but his gaze is unfocused, stunned. Five, six.
“The challenger stumbles back and FALLS ON HIS BACK. KNOCKOUTTTTTTTT!!!!!! THE CHAMPION, THE CHAMPION, THE CHAMPION!!!!
A flurry of applause and shouts came from the audience. Marcelo Walker, three-time world champion, and now fourth. The only undefeated champion in history.
The entire city of Manchester would be celebrating after he came home as heavyweight champion of the federation.
We approached the champion in the ring with the microphones. We saw that his technical team was celebrating with him, patting him on the back and hugging each other.
The happiness of the whole team was evident. Once again, Marcelo Walker had succeeded.
MARCELO
“Champion Marcelo, please, a few words for your audience.” I turned to look at the sportscaster. He was anxious, pushing the mic in my face.
I took it from his hands and addressed the audience. “HEEEYYYYYY! We did it. You and I. Without my fans, I’m nothing.”
I turned to look at my coach, who was being congratulated effusively by my entire team. “And you, Richard.” I pointed my finger in his direction. He turned to see me and just nodded his head.
“Thanks to everyone in general who participated in my training. And my family.” I couldn’t stop smiling.
I turned to where she was, in the seat reserved only for her. There she was, always with the biggest smile. Jumping excitedly in the same place, she waved her hand in my direction.
“My wife, who is the one who puts up with me. Because most of the time, I wake up on the wrong side of the bed. And if I were her, I would have already divorced me. Mandy, I love you.”
I handed the microphone back to the sportscaster. The president of the federation was by my side, with the belt that would return home with me again. He placed it on my waist and raised our hands together.
“Four-time champion MARCELO WALKER.”
Shouts of happiness could be heard around the arena.
I live for this. I’m the best at what I do, and I want everyone to notice.
I extended my arms up with my fists closed. “GRAAAAAAAAA!” I let out a shout of victory. The auditorium rumbled with theirs.
Finally, my team and I stepped out of the ring, heading to the locker room. As we passed, fans extended their hands to greet me. I did not disappoint them. I said hello to those I could before reaching the end of the hall.
Here it was all in silence. The bustle of the people had been left behind. I only heard laughter and conversations between my team.
“Well done, Marcelo, I knew that Hugo was not a rival for you,” My friend and my coach’s helper, Charles, told me with excitement.
“He was nothing. Do you know how I feel right now, Charly? As if I were invincible. I have no rival, as I am the best. THE CHAMPIONNNN!”
“This is my friend, the champion.” Charly patted my back several times.
“Enough, guys.” My coach caught our attention. He pointed his finger at Charly, saying, “You, stop pumping up Marcelo’s ego, which, from what I see, is about to explode.”
Then he turned to me, with that fatherly look. “And you, champion, put your feet on the ground, because if you start losing your ground, the wind will take you without direction.
“Focus, and remember what I’m going to tell you, son. When you stop being afraid, that is when you are most in danger.
“Don’t ever trust what you have and what you know, did you hear me? Never. I don’t like where your thoughts are going, champion.”
“Okay, okay, coach, we got it, but today, it’s time to enjoy,” Charly said in my defense.
I shook my head and laughed. My coach’s frustrated face was priceless. When I was fifteen, he took me under his wings. I have trained with him for the last fourteen years.
If it hadn’t been for him, I would probably be dead by now. He took me off the streets and gave me purpose. Growing up in a city like Manchester is not easy, especially when you have parents like mine.
Shit, that’s what they were. A couple of teenagers who didn’t know how to use a condom, that’s what my parents were. They were more concerned with growing up than taking care of me. After a couple of years, my father left.
On second thought, I was surprised that it lasted that long. After his departure, I never saw him again. Until four years ago. He probably saw me on TV, as I had won my first championship.
Money started to rain, and fame followed. I never had any hope that he would approach me as a father. I’m sure he only saw the pound symbol on my face.
And the satisfaction I felt, closing the door in his face, compensated for all those years that I was alone, wandering the streets. Richard made up for all of that. He was the father figure I never had.
A stranger taking care of a child practically abandoned to his fate. At the mercy of the vices of this city.
I owed my life to him, and my family, too, since if it had not been for him, I would not have met my wife, Mandy, my rock.