“I know.”
“Do you?”
Cole looked away.
Frank leaned against the ropes.
“David isn't interested in humiliating you.”
“I don't care.”
“Yes, you do.”
Cole's eyes narrowed.
Frank continued.
“That's the problem.”
Cole climbed down.
“Tell me what happened.”
“You lost your balance.”
“No.”
Frank smiled.
“You really are stubborn.”
“Tell me.”
Frank sighed.
“David watched your shoulders.”
“What?”
“Not your hands.”
Cole frowned.
“He watched your shoulders.”
“Why?”
“Because your shoulders told him what you were going to do before your hands did.”
Cole thought about it.
Frank continued.
“You telegraph when you're impatient.”
“I don't telegraph.”
“You do.”
Cole shook his head.
“I'm a champion.”
Frank nodded.
“Yes.”
“So why didn't I see it?”
“Because you weren't looking.”
“At what?”
“At him.”
Cole stared.
Frank pointed at Cole's chest.
“You were looking at yourself.”
That sentence stayed with him.
Later that afternoon, Cole found David at a small coffee shop near the river.
David was sitting by the window reading a newspaper.
Cole walked over.
David looked up.
“Good morning.”
“You knew I'd come.”
“No.”
“You don't seem surprised.”
“People who are surprised don't usually walk into coffee shops looking angry.”
Cole sat.
David folded the newspaper.
“What do you want?”
“To know your record.”
David smiled.
“Why?”
“Because Frank said you were one of the best fighters he trained.”
“He exaggerates.”
“Did he?”
David paused.
“No.”
Cole leaned forward.
“What was it?”
“Record?”
“Yes.”
“Thirty-two and seven.”
Cole's eyebrows lifted.
“Thirty-two wins?”
“Yes.”
“Knockouts?”
“Eleven.”
“And seven losses?”
“Yes.”
Cole smiled.
“So you're not unbeatable.”
David laughed quietly.
“No.”
“What happened?”
“To the losses?”
“Yes.”
“I learned.”
Cole leaned back.
“You fought for a title?”
“Several.”
“You win one?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I defended it.”
“How many times?”
“Four.”
Cole stared.
“And you just walked away?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
David looked out the window.
“Because my son was born.”
Cole blinked.
“You had a son?”
“Still do.”
“How old?”
“Sixteen.”
Cole nodded.
“So you retired because of family?”
“Partly.”
“What was the other part?”
David looked at him.
“I was becoming somebody I didn't like.”
Cole didn't respond.
David continued.
“When you're young, people tell you winning makes you a man.”
“And it doesn't?”
“Winning makes you a winner.”
David picked up his coffee.
“Those aren't always the same thing.”
Cole sat silently.
Finally, he asked:
“Why did you come to Riverside?”
“To see Frank.”
“That's it?”
“Yes.”
“You knew who I was?”
David smiled.
“I knew who you were before I walked in.”
Cole frowned.
“How?”
“You've been on television.”
“Then why did you laugh?”
David's expression became serious.
“I wasn't laughing at you.”
“Then what?”
“I remembered being thirty.”
Cole waited.
David continued.
“I remembered believing that being the strongest person in the room meant I had to prove it.”
Cole looked away.
David said:
“You don't have to make the same mistakes I did.”
Cole stood.
“I don't need advice.”
David nodded.
“I know.”
Cole walked toward the door.
Then David added:
“That's why you're probably going to need it.”
Cole stopped.
For a moment, he considered turning around.
He didn't.
The Fight That Changed Everything
Three weeks later, Cole had a major fight scheduled.
The opponent was Javier Morales.
Thirty-two years old.
Twenty-nine wins.
Five losses.
A pressure fighter with a reputation for breaking opponents down late.
Cole hated that style.
Not because Javier was better.
Because Javier didn't care about Cole's reputation.
He walked forward.
He blocked.
He absorbed punishment.
And he kept coming.
The fight took place in Nashville.
Five thousand people filled the arena.
Cole's championship belt was on the line.
Before the fight, the announcer introduced him as one of the most exciting young champions in the region.
Cole smiled.
The crowd cheered.
Across the ring, Javier watched him without expression.
The bell rang.
Cole dominated the first round.
Fast.
Sharp.
Precise.
He landed combinations and moved away.
Second round.
Same.
Third.
Javier started closing distance.
Fourth.
Cole landed a beautiful right hand.
Javier stumbled.
The crowd erupted.
Cole stepped forward.
He wanted the knockout.
He wanted another highlight.
He threw the same sequence that had worked against his previous opponent.
Feint.
Right.
Left hook.
But Javier didn't fall.
He absorbed the hook.
Then came forward.
Cole stepped back.
The crowd screamed.
Javier landed a body shot.
Cole felt the impact.
He frowned.
Another body shot.
Cole clinched.
The referee separated them.
Round five.
Javier kept walking forward.
Cole landed punches.
But his feet began moving backward.
Round six.
Javier's pressure increased.
Cole heard his corner shouting.
“Don't retreat!”
“Circle!”
“Use the jab!”
But Cole's mind had narrowed.
He was angry.
The same anger David had warned him about.
Javier had touched him.
Therefore Javier had to pay.
Cole rushed forward.
Javier slipped the first punch.
Cole threw the second.
Javier stepped inside.
Cole tried to clinch.
Javier trapped his arm.
Then he drove a short hook into Cole's ribs.
Cole dropped to one knee.
The arena exploded.
For the first time in his professional career, Cole heard the referee counting over him.