No Longer Unbeaten 3: The Rematch *full series re-post*

This is it. The moment and night my Champion and I have been waiting for. Her music hits and she begins the long walk out to take her throne in the middle of a Muay Thai boxing ring. This time there is something different about the way my Champion performs her pre-fight ritual…every punch of the turnbuckle is just a little more hesitant. I ever so reluctantly allow myself to slowly accept the fact that my Champion may lose her title tonight. I know she’s ready…she’s been training for this night for two hundred and forty-three days. Ever since her last fight with the same amazing female gladiator. I give my Champion a tight hug and a fleeting kiss before dropping to the floor and preparing for the biggest fight of either woman’s life.

     The referee begins the match and I notice something I haven’t seen since my Champion won her National title almost three years ago: She is aggressive and violent, floating inches above the canvas. The first-round ends and I finally have a chance to look my Champion in the eyes. I see the scorching fire that is burning in them. Her gaze is more focused than any laser beam. I hear the referee tell me to get out of the ring. I take a second to whisper

      “Watch out for her left roundhouse knee, she’s looking for your liver when she comes in.”

      The second round starts and the only woman to ever push my Champion the distance is still searching for an answer to my gladiator princess’ aggressive, smash-mouth style. Both woman clinch up tight and I smile because I know my Champion is living up to her nickname of “Diabla” or “She-Devil.” The arena erupts when my Champion connects with a hellish backwards, spinning uppercut elbow that steals her opponent’s legs. I can’t help but wonder what is going thru my Champion’s mind as she waits for her opponent to regain her feet and continue the fight.

      Nine more minutes elapse as my Champion finally takes her stool between the fourth and final fifth round.

      “Tell the judges to go home, I’m ready to die in here tonight, win or lose one of us is going to sleep.” My Champion says to me after she rinses out her mouth.

      “You have three more minutes to remind everyone that this is YOUR house! Tonight, is YOUR night! You are kicking her ASS! She has no idea what to do!” I reply as I replace her mouthpiece and shake out her arms, shoulders and legs.

      Finally. For the first time in eight months I feel myself fill with confidence. Knowing my Champion is having a career defining fight. The fifth round begins and I see my Champion setting her trap to end the fight. Acting as though she is so burnt out she is defenseless, enticing her beaten and battered opposition to engage recklessly, forcing her to make an errant mistake. I watch my Champion make her move. Bobbing and moving away under a wild left hook/ right cross combination. Quickly popping back up with what should have been a fight ending roundhouse kick to the chin of her greatest challenger. Instead, time stands still and moves in ultra-slow motion. I watch in stunned horror as my Champion crashes to the canvas clutching her left ankle. What I see next makes my stomach churn as I see her Achilles tendon bulging out of her calf.

That is it… my Champion has fallen…she is withering and screaming…her Achilles is ruptured…in the fight of her life…my Champion is injured…her career is in serious jeopardy…please God…let her fight again!