Free On the Ropes (Down for the Count) by Christa Cervone

as he lays a wet towel across my shoulders.
    The next four rounds go by like a blur. Though I’m exhausted, I manage to dominate all of them. I keep reminding myself that next week I’ll be fighting ‘ The Gladiator ’ and he won’t be walking away after three minutes. We’ll be fighting, round after round, either until one of us is knocked out or a decision is made.
    I watch my second to last opponent, Bobby ‘ Blackout ’ West, slip through the ropes. He jumps in place and pounds his gloves together, his dark charcoal eyes glaring at me from across the ring. He has a good three inches on me and easily outweighs me by at least ten pounds.
    “What’s his problem?” I ask Jimmy.
    Jimmy looks over his shoulder to the other side of the ring.
    “How the hell should I know?” he replies as he squirts water into my mouth.
    I slosh the water around in my mouth then spit it into the bucket at my feet. “He looks like he wants to knock my fuckin’ head off.”
    Jimmy turns to look at him again and begins to laugh, “Yeah, he does. Did you fuck his girlfriend or something?”
    “Beats me,” I shrug my shoulders, “but it’s a good possibility.”
    Jimmy rolls his eyes at me as the bell rings again.
    “You got this,” Jimmy calls after me.
    ‘ Blackout ’ and I dance around the ring. He’s clearly toying with me.
    “Show me what you got,” he antagonizes me.
    “Are you gonna dance with him, Gabriel? Or are you gonna fight?!” Frankie shouts at me from the corner of the ring.
    For the next two and a half minutes, I listen to Frankie screaming at me; telling me how terrible I’m fighting. He actually tells me that I don’t deserve to be fighting ‘ The Gladiator ’ next week. “If you fight like this against him, he’ll knock you out in the first round!”
    Finally, the bell rings and the match is over. My arms are feeling heavy and the exhaustion is setting in. With only one more round left, I drop onto the stool in the corner, and I feel a cold towel hit my shoulders.
    “You feelin’ okay?” Jimmy asks me, as he gives my shoulders a gentle rub.
    “Yeah, I’m good.” I’m gasping for air as I try to suck in a decent breath.
    “You held your own out there. He was a tough one.”
    I nod my head at Jimmy as the sweat drips down my brow and into my eyes. I squeeze my eyes closed as they begin to sting.
    “You alright?” Jimmy asks.
    “Yeah, my eyes are burning a little,” I say, trying to wipe my brow with my head gear on. “It’s nothin’.”
    “Here, have some more water,” Jimmy insists.
    With my eyes remaining closed, I open my mouth so he can squirt some in. I feel the towel lift from shoulders and land in my hands.
    “Wash your eyes out,” Frankie instructs me. “This is it, you got one more round. You gotta dig deep for this one. I know you’re tired. Three minutes left,” he says into my ear.
    My last opponent is making his way up to the ring. Steve ‘ The Violator ’ Johnson easily outweighs me by fifteen pounds.
    “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me!” I look back at Frankie, who is now on the outside of the ring.
    “What?”
    “He’s gonna fuckin’ kill me.”
    “You need to have faith in yourself, kid.”
    “I have faith in myself. What I don’t have, is a mother fuckin’ death wish.”
    “Would I put you up against him if I didn’t think you could handle it?”
    I shrug my shoulders at Frankie.
    “That’s what I thought. Now dig deep, get in there, and kick his ass,” Frankie gives me a half smile.
    Kicking the stool over with my foot, I stand up, and dig deep to find any source of energy I can muster; I begin bouncing in place. I look across the ring, staring ‘ The Violator ’ down like he’s nothing. I know that if I let him see the fear in my eyes, he’ll take full advantage of it; especially considering how much he outweighs me. Both of us walk to the middle of the ring and touch gloves. I keep eye contact the entire time, even as I walk back to my