The heart of a fighter
beats to the rhythm
of a thousand others
coming alongside,
those whose hearts
have bled into his:
their pain, their wounds,
their sweat and blood,
their strength for his good.
The heart of a fighter
is made by his peers
who push and encourage,
who offer fists for fists,
bruises to heal any weakness,
and a hand under his chin
with a long, cool drink of water
The heart of a figher
is never born alone,
is never left alone,
and his proudest moment
is the moment that,
when images blur,
and above a crowd's scream,
a Master's voice is all the fighter can hear -
From deep within his corner:
"That boy there - That's MY fighter . . . "
9-16-2011
I was inspired to write this after watching my friend last night, who is training for his first cage fight. It was the shark tank, but I watched our coach give him a drink of water; it was one of those moments when you understand what this sport is about, and what the heart of it is.
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