As the date of the national championship approached, Tyson's training regimen took on a new intensity.
Kus scrutinized him daily, analyzing footage of various competitors whenever time permitted. He meticulously studied each athlete's boxing style and game tactics.
For those fighters who relied heavily on their reach and jabbing techniques, Kus was particularly vocal in his disdain. Such strategies often drew criticism, with many considering them dishonorable. The boxing community valued a more aggressive approach, and fighters who adopted a more technical style were frequently labeled as "unsportsmanlike."
Tyson approached each match with dedication and a deep analytical mindset. When training, he poured his heart into every session, absorbing knowledge as if he were a philosopher delving into profound teachings.
With each passing day, Tyson felt himself growing stronger.
Finally, the day of the National Championships arrived.
Kus adorned a formal gray suit paired with a matching checkered hat.
"Kus, I'm not sure this is wise," Tyson voiced his concerns about Kus's state of mind.
They were on their way to the Ohio National Championships, which would lead into the Colorado Hot Springs National Championships as they prepared for the Olympic trials.
The journey would be no easy feat due to the continuous travel.
"No, Mike, I have to be there. I might not care about these smaller events, but I need to see you claim that championship. I want to witness you on that podium with the trophy."
Kus was resolute, his determination unwavering even in the face of Carmel's attempts to persuade him to stay behind.
Tyson raised his hand in acceptance, conceding defeat. "Alright, I'll go along with it."
Since Kus was unable to fly, Tyson worried for his health, so the three of them took the train to Ohio.
It was a long trip. Kus kept his spirits high, chatting consistently while Teddy engaged easily. Tyson, however, found it tough to sit still.
After just an hour, he felt trapped, as if ants were crawling beneath his skin.
He longed to stretch, but doing so would be impolite and likely disturb the other passengers. So, he settled for subtle neck movements or gentle shifts to relieve his stiffness.
When the train finally stopped, Tyson exhaled in relief.
"Kus, I can't take another train ride. It's torture."
Kus noticed Tyson's discomfort during the journey. He replied, "Next time, you can pick the plane; it'll be quicker. Teddy and I will stick to the train."
They checked into a hotel near the championship venue. With the match looming, Kus briefed them on a few details before urging them to rest.
"Mike, it's still early. Shouldn't we explore?" Teddy, curious about Ohio, suggested.
Tyson pondered for a moment before agreeing, "Sure, but we can't stay out too late. I've got a match tomorrow."
They ventured out, intending to see the sights. Teddy suggested a taxi ride, but Tyson declined, wanting to keep the evening low-key to avoid any distractions before the game.
After some deliberation, they wound up at a bar for refreshments. Tyson, sticking to his regimen, opted for lemonade.
By the time they returned to the hotel, it was already past eleven.
Once in his room, Tyson stripped down and focused on some fitness exercises, ensuring his joints were primed for the day ahead.
At five the next morning, Tyson awoke mechanically, rolling out of bed and heading out in his sportswear for an early run.
Not familiar with the area, he looped around the block a few times before returning to the hotel, where Kus and Teddy had already finished breakfast.
After a quick meal, they hurried to the stadium; their time was dwindling.
By nine, everything was in place, and the three gathered in the lounge. Teddy guided Tyson through some warm-up movements.
Kus then added, "Mike, conserve your energy today. I need you to compete in two matches."
Due to competition rules, Tyson needed to clear his first match to progress. Winning both would secure his spot in the quarter-finals.
After a moment's consideration, Tyson nodded. "I can handle it. Two matches won't be a problem."
Kus cautioned, "Just remember, prioritize your safety. If anything goes wrong, we have to wait until next year, and our plans will shift significantly."
"There won't be any surprises, Kus. I'll control the flow of every match, just like you taught me. We're like stealthy predators, biding our time to strike."
The National Golden Gloves Championship was the pinnacle of amateur boxing, representing the true standard of the sport in the country.
It served as a litmus test, revealing those who might not belong in professional boxing, guiding them toward other paths. Conversely, for those destined for glory, the Gold Gloves would open doors, attracting fans and paving the way to professional success.
The event was always accompanied by an experienced media team, broadcasting live with constant analysis.
Heavyweight bouts garnered the most attention, featuring fighters of immense size who delivered powerful blows, combining brutality with artistry.
Tyson was set to compete in the third flight, facing Luke Nathaniel, a formidable opponent from Pennsylvania.
Standing at 6'5" and weighing 229 pounds with a record of 24 wins and 2 losses, Luke had the advantage on paper. Tyson, at 5'9" and weighing 214 pounds, had a 7-0 amateur record, placing him at a disadvantage in the heavyweight division.
Critics had already labeled Tyson as the underdog, a fixture in his boxing journey.
Debate swirled around their upcoming match, with commentators overwhelmingly favoring Luke.
"Mike Tyson's size is a significant disadvantage," Duke declared. "This isn't a regional competition; these are the best of the best. Luke has accolades, while Tyson is just a local champion."
Brent attempted to counter, highlighting Tyson's impeccable record but was quickly silenced by Duke's sharp retorts.
"Seven wins mean little when facing a champion like Luke," he scoffed. "Heavyweight boxing doesn't see small champions."
Duke's harsh words resonated, leaving Brent momentarily speechless.
Despite their dismissive comments, Tyson remained calm, accustomed to the skepticism surrounding him.
As he entered the arena, the crowd's response was lukewarm, filled with disparaging remarks rather than cheers. Kus, perhaps not hearing the negative buzz, turned to Teddy.
"What are they saying?"
Tyson shot Teddy a knowing glance.
"They're just analyzing the match-up," Teddy reassured.
Kus shook his head, finally catching wind of the negativity. "Why isn't anyone cheering for Mike?"
Though the odds were stacked against them, Tyson was determined to defy expectations.