Standing in the center of the ring Jake stared at the man before him. They stood equally in stature and maybe a few pounds different in weight. Standing at 6’3” Jake stared into the eyes of the man before him. No hatred, no anger, merely a grim determination. The people in the arena wanted a fight, wanted to see some blood, something to fill their pathetically boring lives. 

[color=fff200][b][i]"Touch gloves then move back to your corners."[/i][/b][/color]

Jake raised his gloves, eyes never leaving Fergus’. As they touched he said softly, “Good luck kid.”

Stepping back he tapped the corner and looked into Joe, his cut man, “This kid any good?”

“Dunno. Heard something about him. He’s decent enough to get here right?”

The Ref called out, “Ready?”

Turning around Jake bowed to the Ref then to Fergus. 

“Let’s Get it On!” hollered the Ref as he dropped his hand.

Jake shuffled forward. Right leg forward, left back with the weight on the balls of his feet. His shoulders hunched up. Left hand back and tucked up near his chin. Jake was in a southpaw stance, the right hand out and up crooked slightly ready to jab out.  The flex in his knees allowed him to move in anyone of the eight directions with relatively easy to avoid or counter Fergus.

Jake threw out a snapping jab and withdrew the right hand and arm quickly, he wanted to see the kids fighting style. How he’d set up, which side he favored. Was he a ground and pounder or a stand-up fighter? Either way, it would be interesting.