Ernest felt a strange mixture of pride and sorrow.
His boy was learning how to dismantle a human being.
The innocence was peeling away, replaced by calculating survival.
“Knowing he telegraphs it is one thing,” Ernest said.
“Having the nerve to stand in the pocket, wait for him to throw it, slip it, and counter — that’s different. If you miss the slip, he knocks your block off.”
“I won’t miss,” Tommy said.
He raised his gloves again.
The final week before the fight was a masterclass in psychological warfare.
Cole started sending things to Ernest’s garage.
First, it was a brand-new, top-of-the-line set of boxing gear for Tommy.
Gloves, shoes, headgear.
A note was attached: “So you can’t blame the equipment.”
Then came the tickets.
Two front-row VIP passes for Ernest to give to his friends.
It was an insult.
Cole knew Ernest’s friends were blue-collar workers who would look out of place in a velvet-lined ballroom.
He wanted Ernest to feel isolated.
Ernest threw the gear in the trash and left the tickets on his workbench.
He bought Tommy a pair of standard leather gloves from a sporting goods store.
On the eve of the fight, Ernest and Tommy sat on the porch.
The crickets were loud.
The air was thick with humidity.
Tommy was quiet, staring out at the darkness.
“Dad,” Tommy said suddenly.
“What if Cole is right? What if money is the only thing that matters?”
Ernest looked at his worn boots.
He thought about the stacks of past-due bills on the counter.
He thought about the sick feeling in his gut every time he had to check his bank balance at the grocery store.
“Money is power, Tommy. Anyone who tells you different is either lying or trying to sell you something,” Ernest said slowly.
“It builds walls. It buys armies. It makes consequences disappear. Richard Cole has never had to suffer for a mistake in his life because his money acts as a shield.”
Ernest turned to look at his son.
“But money can’t buy reflex. It can’t buy jaw strength. And it cannot buy the willingness to endure suffering. Tomorrow, Hunter is going to step into that ring expecting you to fold because everyone in his life has always folded for him. He thinks his father already bought his victory.”
Ernest leaned closer, his voice dropping to a fierce, ragged whisper.
“You are going to show him what it costs to live in our world. You are going to take him into deep water where his dad’s checkbook can’t reach him. And you are going to let him drown in his own arrogance. Understand?”
