“You ready, son?” Danny asked as he sat down on the bench next to me. He lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Southside, like most gyms, was nonsmoking. Apparently that rule didn’t apply to Danny on either side of the Atlantic.
“I’m ready, Danny. I can’t explain why. A few weeks ago, Frank was all I could think about. Now it just feels like this is my time. Like everything that’s happened has made me who I need to be to win this fight.”
“That’s good,” he said. “Winning ain’t about who deserves it, it’s about who fights harder for it. So when you get in that ring tonight, you just remember that we’re right behind you, and you keep fighting until it’s done.” I smiled at him, and he scowled back.
“This fight is mine, Danny. I’ll make you proud of me. I promise.”
“Kid,” he said, standing up and taking another drag of his cigarette, “I’ve always been proud of you. Title or no title, that ain’t gonna change.” He patted me on the back and walked away.
There was a lump in my throat as I thought over what he’d said. When I was a kid and Danny had made us go to church, I couldn’t help feeling resentful that God had given me a shitty mother. It never occurred to me until now that he’d actually blessed me with a pretty amazing father. One who never held me back or pushed me too hard, but one who also never lost faith in me and showed me the way. It was because of him I knew what kind of dad I wanted to be someday.
*
There were so many people around that it was like being backstage at a concert. Everyone I passed seemed to want my autograph. When we finally made it to my dressing room, Kieran shut the door behind us, and no fucker was allowed in.
“Shit. This is a bit fancy, ain’t it?” Tommy commented. Tom and Liam enjoyed the TV and leather sofa but the rest of us weren’t interested. They turned the volume on the TV off as they settled in, and I appreciated it. Half the preparation in any fight was getting into the zone. I warmed up, stretched, and shadowboxed.
It was only once Danny started taping up my knuckles that he gave me the pep talk. “This ain’t no exhibition anymore, son, and this guy ain’t going down without a fight. Now you and me, we’ve come a long way this last year, but that don’t change who we are or where we’ve come from. He’s tough, but you’re tougher. He’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders and nowhere to go but down. Well, you’re gonna help him get there real quick.
“This fight ain’t gonna be pretty. But when you’re done, you’ll be the kid from the streets who came from nowhere to become the greatest heavyweight fighter in the world. So you ready to make history, Con?”
“Yes sir,” I replied in all seriousness. I was done with watching Temple keep my title belt warm. This was my time and fuck Temple for not realizing that. When Danny was done with the tape, I stood up and shook out my legs as Kier got the pads ready for me to warm up. I was surprised when the television went off. Tommy and Liam looked restless and more nervous that I was.
“You okay?” I asked them.
“Shit, Con,” Liam answered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “You’re about to fight for the World Heavyweight title and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”
“Yeah,” I answered, making them chuckle.
“We’re nervous. You tell me you ain’t?” Tommy asked.
I thought about it for a second as I cricked my neck from side to side. “No. I’m not nervous. I don’t think about the title or who’s watching. Once the bell goes, there’s just him and me anyway.”
Tommy rolled his eyes and went back to pacing. A sharp knock sounded at the door, pissing Kieran off. “What do you want?” he said, yanking it open.
“Well, is that any way to talk to a man of God?” an Irish voice replied.
“What are you doing here?” Kieran asked, as he let Farther Pat in the door.
“Didn’t seem right letting you fight without following tradition,” he told us as he gave me a quick hug.
“You flew halfway around the world for confession? What’s the real reason?” I asked with a smile.
“The congregation and I bet five hundred pounds on you, so I’m here protecting our investment,” he answered.
“Very Christian,” Danny chuckled.
Another knock sounded at the door, and one of the managers put his head around it. “Ten minutes, Mr. O’Connell,” he said.
“Well then. We don’t have time for a full confession, but how about a quick prayer?” Father Pat asked, and Danny nodded his permission. We gathered around in a circle, even Danny, and bent our heads.