"Ohhh!!!" Damon, Whittier, and the coaches all reacted in unison as the fighter on the screen landed a devastating head kick.
Damon grinned, shaking his head in amazement. "That's a crazy match, man. The lightweight division is packed."
The door opened and a staff member leaned in, drawing everyone's attention as the excitement in the room persisted. "Mr. Cross, your match is after the next one, so please get ready."
Damon inhaled deeply as he felt his adrenaline start to rise.
It was time to get ready.
.
.
.
Damon finished preparing, slipping into his dark green tight shorts with the "UFA" logo emblazoned on a black strap.
He ran his hand through his hair, the final stretch of calm before the storm.
Standing in the corridor with Whittier and the assistant coaches.
There was no more waiting.
It was time.
