After deciding to participate in the Golden Gloves Championship, Link devoted more time to training.
The Golden Gloves Championship was an excellent promotional platform. During the competition, various boxing promotion companies focused on the event to pick potential newcomers for training, much like a talent or beauty pageant.
Link wanted to achieve not just good results in the competition, but also to showcase his tremendous potential, so that major promotion companies would come to him, checks in hand, seeking collaboration.
The better his performance, the higher the signing bonus he would command—he wanted to give it his all.
During his training period, the Miami International Beach Music Festival was held at the Hard Rock Gym. For five days before and after the festival, country music artists from America, Canada, and Europe performed.
According to the Miami Herald, this year's beach music festival had 214 artists registered, attracting a total of 1.241 million visitors, making the event extremely lively.
After his daily training, Link would visit various subvenues to listen to live performances by the singers and watch them play the guitar.
Sometimes, he would invite Taylor along, but her frequent performances, coupled with Mrs. Andrea's intentional and unintentional attempts to keep them apart, meant that they hardly saw each other during the festival.
While strolling together a few days earlier, he thought they were in a relationship, but after not seeing each other for a few days, it seemed they had reverted to just being friends.
Upon hearing this, James laughed out loud three times, saying he had expected it all along, as they were never suited for each other.
Link couldn't afford to wallow in disappointment—the Golden Gloves Championship was starting soon. If he wanted to establish a foothold among the plethora of talent in the American boxing scene, he had to demonstrate sufficiently eye-catching strength.
Bang, bang, bang!
Link gripped his fists and punched the rubber bag vigorously, wearing only hand wraps. After two hours, his T-shirt was soaked with sweat and clung to his muscular back, clearly outlining his defined muscles.
After training in the boxing gym for more than ten days, his muscles had become even firmer and more robust—pectorals, scapulars, biceps, and abdominals, all prominently raised and sharply defined, as if they were cast from iron.
Mario often urged him to eat more meat and keep some fat, suggesting that boxers need a thicker waistline and that looking like a bodybuilder served no practical purpose in boxing, where the opponents are men, not women.
Naturally, Link didn't listen to him.
In this era of the internet, a handsome, sturdy, and sexy boxer could definitely attract more attention, increase web traffic, and earn more tickets, viewership, and competition prizes.
So for a boxer, good looks and a strong physique also constituted a type of soft power.
"Link, take a break. If you continue like this, we'll be dead," Mario said, sitting on the ground, gasping for air, with sweat pooled around him.
"Yeah, Link, the competition is about to start. Don't push too hard, watch out for injuries," Reggie added, wiping away sweat, his arms trembling as he supported himself on the ground.
"You guys take a rest; I'll train a little more."
Link continued to punch.
"Link, you can't keep this up. You're so tough and still pushing yourself in training; how can we rest? If West sees us, he's going to rip us apart calling us lazy," Mario said with a pained expression.
Reggie nodded frantically.
Before Link arrived, everyone felt that training for three to four hours a day was sufficient. After training, they would go to the bar to pick up girls or play in the water at the beach, living very fulfilling and satisfying days.
The atmosphere in the gym was also very harmonious.
After Link joined the boxing gym, the atmosphere completely changed.
With Link training more than six hours a day—more than double everyone else's sessions—no one felt comfortable resting when they saw Link, who weighed 1400 pounds, still pushing hard in training.
Now, everyone trained alongside Link; if he trained for six hours, they did too. Training any less made them feel uneasy, as if they were degenerating.
But training six hours daily was too intense. Every day, after returning home from training, they felt pains in their backs, legs cramped up, and besides sleeping, they couldn't muster the energy to do anything else, not even flirting.
It was a miserable existence.
Mario gritted his teeth and endured it for a week, feeling like death.
But he couldn't stop.
If Link, who had the makings of a champion, was still training relentlessly, how could he, being so much worse, just lie down and rest? Wouldn't that be akin to willingly degenerating?
Mario now faced a dilemma. To endure? His body couldn't take it. To give up? He wasn't willing; his soul was restless.
Caught between his body and his soul, he didn't know what to do but felt compelled to address the cause of his dilemma, which was Link.
"Hey, Link, wanna pick up some girls? I can introduce you to some hotties, guaranteed to have killer bodies."
Mario grinned, showing off his white teeth.
Blonde Reggie nodded in agreement, "Seriously, Link, don't be fooled by Mario's scary looks; he knows how to have fun. He's got a lot of hot girls' contacts in his phone. What type of girl do you like? We've got white, black, red-skinned—all you have to do is say the word, and he can find them."
"What do you mean I look scary? That's just how we Mexicans are."
Mario, with a scowl and his big nose upturned, said discontentedly.
"Ahem!"
West came over and glared at them both, "If you two don't want to train, you can go outside, hang out, go shop, or hit the bars—just don't disturb Link's training here."
Mario and Reggie exchanged a look, pursing their lips and continuing to punch, enduring the pain. It wasn't that they didn't want to go out, but thinking about Link still training, hanging out just seemed pointless.
"Link, the competition is tomorrow. Train less today, take a couple of hours off, and rest more," West said in a gentle voice.
He was very pleased with Link. Not only was Link talented, smart, and diligent, but he was also extremely hardworking; since he arrived, the boxers and apprentices in the gym didn't need supervision and would train voluntarily. These days had been some of the most relaxed ones of his career.
"Okay, I'll pay attention," Link nodded.
After West left, Link continued to train.
"Hey, Link, didn't you just say you were taking a break? Why are you still training?"
Mario said angrily, clenching his fists.
"I'm not tired; why should I rest?"
Link looked at him curiously. Compared to pushing carts in mines and fighting desperately in underground fight clubs, the current training was a breeze.
He felt his strength and speed stealthily increasing every day during training, a feeling too fulfilling to stop.
Bang, bang! Link continued his training.
Mario was going crazy.
Is this guy even human?
"Mario, stop it, if training doesn't kill you, keep pushing until it almost does," Reggie shouted, clenching his fists and furiously pounding the punching bag.
Mario sighed and could only endure the pain, continuing to punch the stiff target.
What a life.
June 3rd, the Golden Gloves Tournament regional competition began. This year in Miami, 112 boxers registered to compete. Link, weighing 77.5 kg, entered in the super middleweight category, which had 15 people, not very difficult.
The venue for the competition was a small stadium in the Miami Heat's American Airlines Arena; except for the referee, there were no other spectators. The match process was straightforward, two-on-two combat, with the number 15 draw automatically advancing to the next round.
Link was lucky; he drew number 15 in the first round, automatically advancing.
In the second round, he drew number one, engaging with his opponent for one round, knocking him down three times consecutively. In amateur matches, both parties wore protective gear; the damage from being knocked down wasn't severe.
However, according to amateur match regulations, being knocked down three times consecutively indicated a significant disparity in strength, and the referee would interrupt the match, declaring the downed party the loser.
Link easily advanced to the third round.
The third round left four people. In a head-to-head fight, Link knocked his opponent down three times in one round, advancing to the next round.
In the fourth round, he continued to exert himself, knocking down his opponent three times in one round, effortlessly securing his spot in the state championship.
But his performance in the matches was too terrifying, ending all of them in one round.
Someone took his photo and shared it in a boxing fan chat group, warning everyone to beware of him, describing him as a cold-blooded, terrifying heavy hitter whose punches were particularly hard; no one could last a round against him.
This message was supported by several victims. They discussed heatedly in the group what to do next when encountering him? The consensus was there was no solution - not only were his punches hard, but he was also fast and had good defense, practically unsolvable.
The super middleweight peers groaned in despair, encountering such a formidable peer was truly unfortunate.
Link's amateur competition record: 3 fights, 3 wins, 3 KOs