"To become a champion, you must leap beyond your own mind, transcend limitations, and focus deeply. When you tap into that state of relaxation and awareness, it's crucial you let me know."
"That feeling is extraordinary—like I'm both present and detached, where my mind and body seem to exist as one yet apart. I can visualize what the future holds, as if projecting an image on a screen."
"I can see how a novice boxer will evolve, anticipating their moves long before they happen. Once combat begins, I can absorb every detail about my opponent, even tapping into their thoughts—it's as if I become them, living in their mind."
"When Loki, an aspiring fighter, approached me for training, he was eager yet inexperienced. During his first match, he faced overwhelming challenges, and after being knocked down twice, he contemplated quitting. But I urged him to push through. When he was ready to throw in the towel, I willed his arm to move. He delivered a punch that sent his opponent crashing to the mat, prompting the referee to end the match."
"You must envision yourself as the champion you aspire to be. If you dream of becoming a world heavyweight champion, you need to embody that role starting now, training as if you already hold the title."
"You have the potential to be the greatest boxer in the world; no one can surpass you, do you understand?"
"Tell me, do you believe you are the best boxer alive?"
Kus delved into the truths Tyson had yet to face.
Listening intently, Tyson felt a surge of energy within him.
He clenched his fists and turned to Kus, declaring, "Yes, I am the best. No one can defeat me."
"Mike, confidence is everything. To cultivate that confidence, you must push yourself to the limit and confront your own endurance. This mindset isn't born from mere affirmations; it's built through a constant mental blueprint of your future self."
Under Kus's guidance, Tyson showcased an indomitable spirit during training.
"What Mike Tyson can achieve, I will achieve—and even surpass!"
Tyson's relentless drive was unmatched; he refused to accept defeat, determined to reshape his destiny.
His sharpened mental focus didn't just emerge during workouts—it became evident during sparring sessions as he honed in on his opponents' weaknesses with newfound clarity.
After two months of rigorous training, Stewart, even at thirteen, found no footing against Tyson.
"Wow, your progress is astounding!" Stewart gasped, sprawled out on the mat, exhaustion evident on his swollen face.
"I'm done sparring with you," he conceded, finally acknowledging Tyson's skill.
Casually, Tyson remarked, "I've learned volumes during our sessions. Once I'm on parole, I won't linger here in Brooklyn; I'll be heading to Coach Kus."
For quite some time, Stewart had worried about Tyson returning to Brooklyn, fearing he might fall back into old habits, or worse. He didn't want to see his friend end up misplaced or worse, living in chaos.
"Seems I can't call you a slacker anymore; you're anything but."
Stewart sat up, disgusted: "You've completely transformed. You're no longer the person you were. Congratulations, Mike, you're beginning an entirely new chapter."
Tyson nodded emphatically.
A week later, Tyson was set for release.
"Bach, I'm heading out. Keep training and stand firm. Don't let anyone intimidate you."
Bach nodded, "Mike, I'll visit you in New York."
Tyson gathered his belongings and stepped out, a new chapter awaiting him.
Stewart's car idled outside.
"I won't be back here again," Tyson vowed, casting one last glance at the camp before stepping into the car.
"Mike, let's head to Brooklyn—your mother needs to sign some docs, and you'll be transferring to a new school."
Tyson didn't protest; he understood how essential it was to inform his mother about this change.
His mother, once vibrant and assured, had faced hardship. After marrying Jimmy, Tyson's biological father, she became a single parent, struggling to provide for her children amid the tumult of their lives. When Jimmy left, she fell from stability into the depths of a slum life.
Tyson's mother, Lorna May, had gradually adapted to this new reality while cycling through relationships. When her eyes lit up at the sight of Tyson, she radiated warmth.
"Oh, my little Tyson, you're back!"
Embracing him, May's smile was bittersweet.
Tyson felt a stir of discomfort but managed to endure the embrace.
"I'm okay," he replied softly.
"You've changed—it's good to see," she responded.
May launched into a stream of words, concern mingled with love, "I'm happy you're back."
Tyson's thoughts turned inward. He needed to influence her positively, to prevent history from repeating itself.
"Mom, please promise to take care of yourself and stay healthy."
Unbeknownst to her, Tyson foresaw the struggles that lay ahead if she didn't.
Overcome by emotion, she said, "Mike, I've let you down; I never wanted this life for you, but you're finding your way. I fully support your goals."
A whirlwind of feelings swirled within Tyson. He wasn't her biological child, yet he felt her love, the innate desire to nurture and guide him.
Stewart produced the necessary documents, and May signed without hesitation.
"Train hard and don't stray too far," she advised.
"I promise to look after you too. I'll check in often," Tyson assured her, a protective determination igniting within him.
As he joined Stewart in the car, leaving behind his past, May silently prayed: "May my child soar to greatness."
---
Kus and Mill orchestrated a grand welcome for Tyson, complete with trainers and friends from the hall.
Delicious food and joyful conversations enveloped Tyson in a sense of belonging—a family he never imagined.
"Let's make history, Tyson!" Stewart exclaimed, slapping him playfully on the back.
Tyson smiled, "You'll witness my journey to the title, I promise."
After slipping into the car, he waved goodbye, slowly driving away from the past.
"He's going far," Kus remarked, pride evident in his eyes.
That night, Kus shared invaluable insights about boxing, and Tyson absorbed every word eagerly, practicing as he listened.
Life reorganized itself; he'd head to school on weekdays, with training filling his evenings.
While grappling with the academic environment—where his skin color drew unwanted attention—Tyson focused on honing his skills. Despite occasional confrontations with peers, he refrained from retaliating, opting instead to demonstrate his prowess through discipline.
Once school wrapped, Tyson dashed to the training hall, ready for his next challenge.
"Learn anything new today?" Kus asked.
"Yes," Tyson replied, his bag hitting the floor.
"Time to train," Kus said, his gaze piercing.
With the recorder set to emit a series of numbers, Tyson prepared for his next session. The training dummy dubbed 'Willie' awaited him, each number mapping out his next move.
"This will shape your instincts," Kus instructed.
"Hit the numbers until they're second nature," he urged, exemplifying unwavering dedication.
With concentration, Tyson began, allowing the numbers to guide him through the rhythm of hard work and relentless practice.