Dante Harris was running. Running from an abusive past. Running from a messy break up. Running from the life he left in the small city of Round Rock Texas.
Somehow this small town boy has found himself in the busy streets of New York City, and in t...
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I woke up the next morning feeling absolutely rejuvenated. The sleep from the night before had made this night two on a bed again.
The smell of something greasy immediately intoxicated my senses. Was that bacon? I thought to myself. My eyes flew open.
There was a thick cloud of smoke that floated through the air, carrying that glorious scent with it. I searched for some shorts underneath the duvet on the bed after I realized I was still pantsless (I must have pulled them off at night from the heat). Once I was able to find those, and my shirt, I went out to take a look.
Sammy was standing in the kitchen in some gym shorts and a gym shirt, making what looked like breakfast. Judging by his poor attempt at dinner, I was immediately alarmed.
"Ahh is everything okay?" I asked him. He glanced over, and gave me a grin.
"Good morning. Yeah I thought I'd start in on some breakfast for your first official day at the gym."
I smiled nervously back, then glanced at the sizzling bacon.
"Oh that's sweet. I thought you may have mentioned that, ya know, cooking isn't something you really do all that often..." I tried to word my concern as best as I possibly could.
Sammy chuckled. "Oh yeah, I can't do dinner and all that,but breakfast foods are simple perfection. So if you're good with breakfast for breakfast, lunch, and dinner- I'm your guy." He pulled out two plates for us, and set them down on the counter. "The most pressing question this morning is: how do you like your eggs?"
-
I think it was pretty accurate to say that I now liked my eggs the same way I would like more than half of Sammy's novice fighters... beaten and scrambled.
I have never, and I meant never, met a group of people with such damning cases of ADHD.
The day had started out fairly simple with easy exercises and basic skill work. When we got to combos, that's when I started to see lack of direction.
"You don't want to lock up that leg, Brian." I told one of the novices. You gotta be light on it." Brian gave me disheartening sigh but tried again. Once again, Brian didn't drive it forward and the punch fell short.
"How's it going?" Sammy asked, making me jump slightly. I hadn't even noticed he had creeped up besides me.
"Where exactly did you find this group?" I whispered to him.
"Well, this year we needed to take on new fighters who fit the less advanced bracket, that could also pay... so most of the guys we either picked up from the local street basketball game, or from a preppy academy- they could afford a year of classes in advance. Now that all my old novices are veterans, there isn't many experienced fighters left in the novice division." Sammy explained.
