After dinner with the Santiagos, I took the tube to the boxing club where I met Landon, Giovanni, Gomez and Severn.

“’Sup homie?” Severn threw me a gang sign when he saw me.

“What even is that?” I grinned back at him when I reached them.

“I don’t even know,” he laughed. “I just made it up.”

“We don’t have an official gang sign,” Gio thought out loud.

“Yeah and we don’t need one,” Landon said with a shudder. “There’s really no need.”

“Yeah, says the person who wanted to get a snake tattooed onto his pe – ”

“Hey,” Landon cried, cutting him off. “I clearly wasn’t serious.”

I had widened my eyes and dropped my gaze, “Let’s go in.”

The boys chuckled and we entered the club where a few others were already seated and talking. We were pretty early, so we could get a front view. There were small fences put up around the ring so that we couldn’t get too close to the ring itself, in case one of the boxers was to fall out of it. Within the fence was a small table and three chairs. The only people sitting up close to the ring were the judges, who weren’t present yet.

***

Amateur boxing was different to professional boxing. For one, the boxers had to wear head-guards in amateur boxing and not in professional boxing. The main distinction between the two types was that in amateur boxing, winning was based on points gained by landing the most correct scoring blows on the opponent’s target area. Knockouts did not mean extra points. Knockouts were usually accidental, and not an objective. But for Walter, that wasn’t really the case, and he strove to knockout every opponent he faced. It was like he saw himself fighting professionally.

Amateur boxing had three rounds which were three minutes each, and a referee monitored the bout to make sure that the competitors only used legal blows, which were blows landed over a belt worn on the torso. Boxers who repeatedly kept landing low blows were disqualified. Referees also ensured that the boxers didn't use holding tactics to prevent the opponent from swinging, and would separate the opponents if they did so. Again, repetitive use of holding tactics resulted in warnings and ultimately disqualification.

In amateur boxing, referees would stop the bout if a boxer was seriously injured, or if one boxer was considerably dominating the other. This was often the case when Walter was getting too angry. To be honest, the majority of spectators loved to see blood and enjoyed it when the bouts got out of hand. That was why whenever Walter was fighting, the club was packed. Even now, about an hour to the first fight, people were already coming in.

***

The boys and I sat in the front row, right up at the fence line and I looked around for a glance of Walter. He was probably getting last minute words from his head coach in one of the back rooms. Walter would be fighting someone of a similar weight to him, to make sure it was fair. His bout was the first of several this evening, but we’d only stay to watch his.

“It’s getting hot in here already,” Severn was pulling on the neck of his jumper.

I nodded in agreement. As time had passed, more people had entered and now all the chairs up close to the fence around the ring were taken. People started filling up behind us and I heard a few people complaining that they couldn’t see over the boys’ heads.

“Move on then,” Giovanni turned round and practically growled at them.

They were silent after that, and a little while later, the judges made their way through the growing audience and past the fence to sit at the table which was ringside. I kept my eyes open for Walter and smiled when I saw him coming out from the back, wearing red shorts and a matching vest. He had his boxing gloves on and the head coach was holding Walter’s head-guard in one of his hands.

He stepped into the ring with a serious expression. Walter rarely smiled when he was boxing, not even when he won. I noticed him spot me and his brothers at the front and he sent me a tiny half smile before looking away. Walter’s opponent was a blond guy with a similar build. He wasn’t a member of the club we attended, but another club in a borough nearby.

Walter went to the red corner of the ring where the referee, in a white shirt, checked that his gloves were on securely as well as his head-guard and made sure his gumshield in place. The ref did the same to the boxer in the blue corner and then they were both introduced. The blue corner was introduced first and there was a cheer from the audience. A lot had come to support him and many others were regulars from this club and were likely routing for Walter to win.

“...and in the red corner we have Walter Simpson.”

The round of applause was even greater, courtesy of the triplets and Landon hollering loudly. Walter and his opponent met in the middle, on either side of the referee, and touched gloves civilly. The bell was sounded and round one began. Both boxers were light on their feet and bounced on their toes, keeping their stances at all times. Walter gained the upper hand first, throwing a flurry of punches that his opponent struggled to block. Walter dropped back, keeping his guard up and looking for another opening for him to land some more points. His coaches called out words of encouragement and words of advice. People from the audience shouted out too, some cheering for Walter and others for his opponent. More blows were exchanged as the two boxers circled each other, light and fast on their feet.

The judges watched on, counting points for the number of punches landed in the target area of the head and torso. They counted the scores for the red corner and for the blue corner separately without conversing with each other. They would add up the total at the end and declare the winner of the bout.

The blue boxer attempted a few more punches at Walter, who blocked them with a duck and then retaliated with a couple right hooks. Walter’s opponent stumbled back into the ropes and Walter kept hitting until the referee separated them. He was lucky he didn’t get a foul called for that. I’m sure if the ref hadn’t pulled him off sooner, Walter would have earned himself a warning. The audience ‘oooo’ed when the blue boxer managed to hit Walter with some pretty hard punches to the face. Walter grunted in anger more than pain and he held his gloves up higher.

“Hit him Walter!” Gomez shouted along with others in the crowd.

Walter backed the other boxer into the ropes and punched him in quick succession in the head and chest. A hammer was hit on the wooden table to signify ten seconds remaining in the round, and the other boxer had barely managed to block the onslaught when the bell was rung and the round ended.