Teddy held a gleaming knife worth $2,250, a triumphant grin spread across his face. His recent relationship had led to increased expenses, and winnings like this one provided a much-needed cushion.
While he had always respected Tyson's strength, he hadn't expected such a quick and decisive victory. Tyson's potent combination of speed and power left everyone in awe, especially his remarkable uppercuts. Teddy now viewed Tyson in a whole new light.
The group erupted in laughter and camaraderie.
"Great job! My $1,000 knife is now worth $4,500!"
"Today's been incredibly lucky!"
As they waved their cash, some even extended their burgers and drinks toward Tyson, but he graciously declined, smiling.
The small gymnasium buzzed with renewed energy after the match.
In the corner, Nielsen gazed at Tyson with undisguised admiration.
"Honestly, you surprised me, Mike. That was a spectacular performance. I've never seen uppercuts hit with such precision or speed."
His praise, though genuine, didn't feel exaggerated. Tyson had indeed performed flawlessly.
"Mr. Nielsen, I just did what I needed to do," Tyson replied modestly.
"I'm thrilled for Coach Kus. He found a remarkable student in you," Nielsen remarked, reminiscing about his own boxing days under Kus. Reflecting on what could have been, he mused that with Tyson's talent, he might have been more than just a gym owner.
"This recognition is well-deserved." Nielsen handed Tyson an envelope with $500.
Tyson accepted it gratefully.
After Nielsen offered a few encouraging words, he left the room.
Teddy, barely able to contain himself, waved his cash. "Guess how much we just made?"
"I can't even begin to guess," Tyson answered.
"Our $500 turned into $2,250! Can you believe how quickly that happened?" Teddy exclaimed, dividing the bills and handing some to Tyson, who pocketed them.
"Ready to head back?" Tyson asked.
"No way! It's too early for that. We need to celebrate!" Teddy's spirits soared.
"Alright then, what's the plan?" Tyson shrugged.
"Let's hit the bar and toast to your victory!" Teddy suggested.
Tyson considered. "We should call Coach Kus first to fill him in."
"Oh right! He's been so invested in all of this," Teddy remembered, leading Tyson to a nearby phone booth.
After a quick dial, Kus answered, "Did you win? Mike, you did it!"
"Absolutely! He won decisively," Teddy replied excitedly.
"Fantastic! Tell me everything!"
Even at a distance, Tyson could hear Kus's excitement. In just a few words, Teddy summarized the match, and Kus's enthusiastic response was infectious.
"He's incredible! Let me talk to him!" Kus insisted.
Teddy handed the phone to Tyson. "Hi, Mr. Kus," Tyson greeted.
"Mike, that was outstanding! You were amazing," Kus boomed, praise overflowing.
As the conversation wound down, Teddy commented, "I've never seen Mr. Kus care so much about a match."
Tyson nodded, realizing how deeply Kus valued him. The old man had effectively taken Tyson under his wing, making every victory a point of personal pride.
"I won't let him down. I'll treat each match with seriousness," Tyson vowed.
They drove slowly, chatting comfortably, until Teddy pulled into the Black Wave Bar, nestled at the end of a quiet street.
Teddy slid onto a barstool. "A whiskey for me! Mike, what's your drink?"
"Lemonade," Tyson replied casually, taking a seat next to him.
Teddy raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Whiskey's great for relaxation."
Tyson smiled, "No, I need to keep my wits about me for now. Maybe in a few years."
"You started drinking at ten! What happened to that kid?" Teddy joked, remembering their trip to Tyson's rough neighborhood where kids were often drinking and smoking.
"That was ages ago. Back then, I hadn't discovered boxing or the dreams I'm chasing. Now, it's different. I'm a disciple of Coach Kus. Even when he's not around, I hold myself accountable. That's real discipline," Tyson replied earnestly.
Teddy sighed dramatically, "Alright, your choice. But you're missing out."
They shared quiet conversations over their drinks, the bar remaining relatively empty, likely due to its location.
The next day, Tyson returned home to a warm greeting from Kus.
"How was it? How are you feeling?"
"I'm good, sir."
Kus inspected him carefully, like a father would. "Were you nervous?"
"Not at all. I felt exhilarated," Tyson shared.
"You were superb—better than I anticipated," Kus beamed, uncharacteristically effusive in his praise.
Teddy couldn't help but chip in, "I've never seen Mr. Kus so invested in a match before."
Tyson agreed; Kus had taken him under his wing, leading him through the ups and downs of boxing, making him feel valued with every step.
As they entered the small gym, Tyson drifted into the living room, where Camille was tidying up.
"Hey, Mike, you're back!" she said brightly.
"Yeah."
"Kus was thrilled and couldn't stop talking about your match all night," she beamed.
"Really, it was just another fight," Tyson demurred.
"No, it mattered! It had great significance for Kus," Camille countered.
"I understand, it was meaningful," Tyson acknowledged, producing the $1,000 he had earned.
"What's this for?" Camille frowned, refusing the money.
"Carmel, our family is facing difficulties, and I want to do my part. I'm 16 now, and it's my responsibility," he insisted.
"Mike, you really don't have to," she implored.
"No, I want to; I'm a member of this family, and I have obligations," he pressed gently, placing the cash in her hands.
Tears sprang to Camille's eyes, touched by her son's thoughtfulness.
Tyson retreated to his room, finding it neatly arranged, a clear sign of Camille's care. He began to practice his combination punches, firmly focused.
Later, he turned to Teddy, stretching his neck. "Are you betting on me today again?" he inquired.
"Absolutely! I believe in your strength completely," Teddy responded without hesitation.
Tyson handed him $600, confident in his abilities.
"Just make sure to place the bet on me," Tyson instructed.
As Teddy took the money, they exchanged knowing smiles.
The atmosphere in the gym buzzed with pre-fight anticipation.
"I know that guy; he cost me $1,500 last time!" a spectator shouted, drawing attention to Tyson.
"He only took ten seconds to finish his last opponent!" another chimed in.
Some recognized Tyson's potential, but many remained skeptical.
Soon after, Tyson's opponent climbed into the ring—a towering twenty-four-year-old man named Rowan, whose muscular frame and fierce demeanor made him seem like a giant compared to Tyson.
Rowan's wild eyes bored into Tyson, showcasing raw aggression as he flexed his muscles, drawing gasps from the audience.
"This is going to be a bloodbath," someone muttered anxiously.
Teddy felt apprehensive as well, viewing the stark physical disparity between the two.
Yet Tyson remained composed, exuding a calm confidence that steadied Teddy's nerves.
Resolved, Teddy made for the betting window, determined. "Put it all on Mike!" he declared, eager to support his friend.