“Mick, what happened? I’m all woozy.”
“Ya got knocked down [1], kid. Flattened was more like it.”
“Again? I thought this time was supposed to be different.”
“Yer not throwin’ any punches, kid! Ya got hit! Ya gotta hit back! Ya used to be a thing a’ beauty, I tell ya, what with yer resiliency an’ th’ way ya fought ’til th’ final bell. What happened to ya, kid?”
“I thought ya told me to stand still and take it.”
“I told ya ta take THREE pitches [2] with th’ bases loaded an’ nobody out ’cause I didn’t have no faith in ya at that particular moment — but THEN ya had ta come out fightin’! Ya hit into a double play instead.”
“I’m confused, Mick. Where’s my belt?”
“What belt?”
“The belt I brought with me from up the Turnpike, yo, the belt I been carryin’ around with me for I think the last 90 days.”
“That was no belt, kid. That was a lead. Ya hadn’t won anything yet. Now ya ain’t leadin’, neither.”
“So what now, Mick?”
“Ya gotta get up! Ya gotta get yer timin’ back! Ya need t’ defend when th’ other pug comes at ya! Most of all, ya need The Eye Of The Tiger!”
“The Eye Of The Tiger?”
“The Eye Of The Tiger!”
“Mick, have I been traded to the American League?”
“Kid! Focus! Ya got another 53 rounds in this fight! Ya got two more this weekend alone! Ya gotta stop bein’ so friendly with th’ canvas!”
“Oh, I’m very friendly, Mick. I got great what they call chemistry [3]. I even got a horse [4] I keep at ringside sometimes. Don’t worry, it’s just what they call a plush toy. I wouldn’t bring no real horse to a regulation bout. I mean I ain’t no mental genius, but I’m not stupid, yo. I just like to act like I am for fun sometimes. Anyhows, I thought my chemistry and playfulness is why everybody’s been embracin’ me figuratively if not actually because, yo, I know ya can’t get too close to somebody without a mask or preferably an inoculating vaccine these days. I hear they’re very effective, and I oughta know, ’cause I been takin’ plenty of shots this week.”
“They’ll like ya when yer standin’ in th’ ring goin’ toe fer toe an’ punch fer punch when yer attacked! Right now even yer fans can’t stand ya!”
“They can’t? I gotta say that’s very disturbing, mentally speaking.”
“Ya look dead, kid! Dead as a doornail that fell outta th’ doorknob! Ya gotta get yerself undeaded NOW!”
“Yeah, OK, Mick. Just one thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
“If these next two rounds are in Philadelphia, who am I really in this scenario? I mean I appreciate the metaphorical symbolism an’ all, it’s very well extrapolated and executed, but are we just ignorin’ the identity of the stadium and the opposition to say nothin’ of the statue the locals erected to their hometown albeit fictional hero? I don’t think most of these people here are necessarily gonna be chantin’ my name out there even if I’m pretty sure I saw a lotta orange an’ blue in the crowd when I wasn’t seein’ all them stars, which by the way is very nice of so many of my fans to make that trip and I hate to let ’em down ’cause you know it’s a lotta bother and expense to come down the Turnpike or even take the train when ya gotta take it back late on a Friday night. Yo, I’m just sayin’.”
“KID! STOP ASKIN’ ME QUESTIONS I CAN’T ANSWER!! GET OUT THERE AN’ FIGHT LIKE YER TITLE DEPENDS ON IT!!!”
“What title? I thought you said I don’t got no title yet, Mick”
“Exactly, kid. Exactly.”