"Link, faster! Show me how fast your punches can be!"
"Pay attention to your footwork. Your feet and fists must move in unison to maintain a stable center of gravity. A stable center of gravity means a balanced body, which prevents you from being knocked down by your opponent."
"Amazing! Your footwork and punches are perfectly coordinated. You truly are an exceptional boxer."
"But there's one issue. You have too few finishing moves. Your backhand punch is famous, but it's easily countered in professional matches. Frequent use of the backhand punch can also cause arm injuries. I suggest you develop a few more knockout moves."
"Don't worry about finishing moves. With your punching power and speed, as long as you intensify your training, your straight punch, jab, hook, and swing can all become knockout moves in the super middleweight division."
"Yes, just like that! Head-body, head-body, head-body, strike high and low, strike low and high, combined with your explosive liver punches and power punches. Wow! It's hard to imagine, Link. You're destined to become the king of the super middleweight division."
Below the ring, Tommy Brooks waved his fists excitedly and shouted.
"King? Aren't you exaggerating? Don't forget he hasn't even fought a single professional match. He's just a rookie."
Dino Duva leaned back in his chair, pouting.
"No, no. He's a world champion, a ring anesthetist who won 26 out of 27 amateur matches by knockout. With his power and speed, he'll thrive in professional boxing. There's no doubt about it."
Brooks stared at Link in the ring, full of admiration.
"Is he really that good?"
"Of course, even better than I described."
After Brooks answered, he realized the voice was different. He turned around and saw Lou Duva, the old man, hobbling over with a cane.
"Can he become a world champion?" Lou Duva asked.
"More than that. If nothing unexpected happens, his future achievements won't be inferior to Hector Camacho or Riddick Bowe."
Hector Camacho was a legendary Puerto Rican boxer who had won titles in three weight classes: super featherweight, lightweight, and super lightweight. Riddick Bowe had won titles in four weight classes across four major organizations. Both were legendary boxers from the 80s and 90s who had emerged from the major event company.
Brooks continued, "Link's punching power exceeds 1500 pounds, which is top-notch even in the super middleweight or light heavyweight divisions. His speed is no slower than a lightweight boxer. And then there's his boxing technique, his tactics, his control of the match... He's an incredible boxer. I've never seen anyone more talented at the age of 20."
Lou Duva frowned, looking at Link in the ring. When Franco had planned to spend 100 million to sign Link, he was furious and threw a teacup, kicking Franco out and even removing him from his position in the main event company. But no one expected that just over a month later, Link, the one Franco had favored, would become a world champion.
He took a breath and asked, "Did Franco make a very successful deal?"
"Based on the current situation, yes. Link is light-skinned, handsome, powerful, and an Olympic champion. These factors combined make his commercial potential even greater than Mayweather or Roy Jones Jr. While 100 million dollars might be a bit exaggerated, signing him for that price definitely won't be a loss," Brooks said confidently.
Lou Duva stared at Link, frowning. Had he really made a mistake?
"Hahaha!"
Suddenly, Dino Duva, sitting in a chair nearby, burst into laughter. He fell off the chair, clutching his stomach, and pointed at Lou Duva, laughing, "My respected father, remember two months ago? Franco came home and said he wanted to sign Link with a big contract. You threw a fit, called him crazy, said his brain was fried by the Miami sun, and even kicked him out of the main event company. Now look!
The Link Baker you underestimated has become an Olympic champion, a money tree about to grow tall. And Franco, the one you kicked out, will make a fortune because of him. My invincible father, do you regret it now?"
Dino laughed hysterically.
Lou Duva glared at Dino Duva, his hand gripping the cane trembling. He had the urge to beat this rebellious son.
"Dino, don't talk nonsense. Your father didn't agree back then because he was considering the company's development," Brooks waved at Dino, signaling him to stop provoking Lou Duva. Lou Duva was old, and it would be a loss for the main event company if he got angry.
"Haha, am I wrong? Father used to say that making mistakes isn't scary, what's scary is not knowing how to correct them. My wise and learned father, when are you going to correct your mistake and apologize to your son Franco?" Dino sat on the floor, asking with a mocking smile.
Lou Duva glared at him and said to Brooks, "Since Franco did a good job, let him continue. We'll see how successful he can be based on his abilities."
"Okay!"
Brooks nodded and escorted Lou Duva out.
"Go Link! Strive to win ten, a hundred championship belts, and show the old man how good you are," Dino Duva shouted from below the ring.
On the ring, Link ignored him. He had noticed Lou Duva's arrival.
This old man was born in the 1920s and had been a boxer himself. Since the 1950s, he had transitioned into a boxing agent and coach. He had entered the industry earlier than Don King and Bob Arum, and was considered a living fossil in the American boxing world.
But Link couldn't understand how an eighty-year-old man like Lou Duva could have a son in his twenties, who looked more like a grandson.
He continued his training, starting with practicing with punch shields â€" leather pads made of high-elasticity sponge, thick and flexible, designed to reduce the impact of punches. There were both double-handed and single-handed versions. Link, wearing gloves, kept hitting the punch shield held by Morales, his speed increasing and sweat pouring down his body.
After practicing combination punches, he sparred with two professional boxers, practicing offense and defense, and adapting to the rhythm of professional boxing matches.
"Link, the WBA ranking matches are about to start. You're fighting in the super middleweight division, so eat more these days and get your weight back up to over 76 kilograms," Brooks said after the training session.
"I understand!"
Link nodded. After changing in the locker room, he came out to find Dino Duva, now in more casual clothes, standing in the aisle with two strong boxers. Dino shouted at him,
"Link, are you going to Midnight Queen Bar? I know a lot of beautiful girls. Want me to introduce you to a few?"
"No thanks, I'm busy," Link politely declined. He could be friends with Franco, but he preferred to keep his distance from someone like Dino who seemed like trouble.
"Link, don't be like that. It's your first day at the gym. Let's go to the bar to celebrate. My treat!" Dino patted his bony chest.
Link waved his hand in thanks, but said he didn't have time. Simon came over and said, "Dino, Link doesn't smoke, drink, or do drugs. He's not really into girls either. He'd be bored at the bar, so he hardly ever goes."
"Doesn't smoke, drink, or chase girls? How can such a person exist?" Dino looked at Link in surprise, as if he were a monster. "Then what do you like?"
"Boxing!"
Link shook his fist and left with his backpack.
"What an arrogant guy," Dino said, watching him leave.
"No, no. Link is easy to talk to and likes to make friends. He just doesn't like to deal with those who aren't serious," Simon explained.
"Not serious? Who are you talking about?" Dino Duva asked, his face darkening.
Simon laughed and ran to catch up with Link.
(End of Chapter)