From the boy weighing up his
evening with her...

"When I'm with you
I'm the heavyweight champion
of weightless

...When I'm not
I'm just dead weight."

Oh, to sleep the sleep of youth;
Peaceful dreams, and blissful truth
When every morning brings the sun,
Battles fought, and victories won!
Victory sweet, misfortune ****,
Yet those that bear a champion’s heart
Stand upright, tall, despite the end,
And humbly shake opponent's hand
Congratulations on fine play
To meet, compete another day
Hope the foe will others tell,
“He fought with honor, he played well.”

Oh, how the aging fight with sleep;
Nightmares, abject fears run deep
That life on earth is almost done,
Morning might not bring the sun.
Once strong, the warrior now is frail
In the final battle death prevails,
Though none but God has kept the score
The champion longs for one quest more
Long life results in necessity
To replace lost skills with strategy
We long to hear, at final bell,
“He fought with honor, he played well.”
PWL 12/25/16

If something is not there in it’s place of which something was thought prior,
definitely there must be something new in it's place.
As it happens in life so does in race,
Day is followed by night,
night followed by day and again by night.
Similarly also in race
Most of the times it’s the old that replaces the new and makes it’s presence felt
Definitely champions aren't born, they are made.

Undefeated. Undisputed. 12 wins, 0 losses. A perfect 12-0 record.  
You’re the crowd’s favorite as Vegas odds are in your favor.
Through the years of being in this game, you can almost get used to the fame.
“This fight’s going to be an easy one” – you assured your Coach.
You enter the octagon and see her warming up. Then you hear Bruce Buffer laying out the ground rules.
You’re excited – but nervous.
You feel the pressure of having to live up to everyone’s expectations. From your coach to the little ******* the other side of the world rooting for you.
You thought it was going to be another landslide victory.

Barely 2 minutes in and you feel scared.
Suddenly, you feel a numbing pain on your chin. It was a left hook.
As you fall face first, you feel nothing. Your unconscious body lays flat on the octagon floor.
Lights out.

Moments later you wake up to the sound of the fans cheering in the octagon.
A left hook was all it took for your dream of retiring undefeated to come crashing down.
For the first time, it wasn’t your arm that was raised by Herb Dean.
For the first time, you heard the words, “….and the new Featherweight champion”
You don't let it sink in at first but you can only hold back for too long before you realize that you lost.
You stood up, wiped the sweat off of your forehead, removed your gloves and marched out.
Suddenly you feel this weird feeling of embarrassment.
"So this is how it feels to lose?" you said to yourself.

You found a chair, sat down and composed yourself.
You’re still in one piece, which is a good thing but you know that fact cannot compensate for the emotional disorientation you felt.
Broken bones really do heal faster than injured egos.
Maybe your loss was a way of knocking some sense into you.
Winning is not everything, the same way that losing is not.
Sometimes you need to experience defeat in order to appreciate how satisfying every victory is.
As a fan, I know it's going to be hard to bounce back from this loss.
But you're going to be okay, champ. You always do.

I shoot higher
After every fall
Like an Indian
Rubber ball

"Watch that lady. She has been standing there for as long as I remember. Still waters hold no treasure that's why ocean flows with unwavering current. Watch her closely she's obsessed with her phone; changing display pictures forever...  smart girls change fortune"
-Matthias Pantaleon, [Act Like A Champion]