SERIES 2 Thrown Away: The Walking Papers

Freddie has a stunning speed. His steps and strikes are undiscerning. He is extremely a tremendous fighter, but I’m steadily gaining pulse in the second round. Slowly, I’m on to analyzing his body movements. His rage and ferociousness cause him extra vulnerable to retaliation. I take note of his working errors and timing. I call it “telegraphing”. I study his moves and anticipate the combination of punches and kicks that Freddie should perform by looking at slight changes in his facial expressions. I always remember one article about fighting strategy. “…there is some correlation between facial gestures and body movements. When a fighter lowers the chin to the side and closes the lips, there are high probabilities that a “hook punch” will be released from that side of the body. A slight lifting or lowering of a shoulder implies that a front kick (mae-geri) maybe coming from that side of the body.” I consider several lessons about Predicting Komite Strategies. And I always follow this method religiously. In the next round, I was able to completely forecast all impending attacks. I can foretell where should the strike flow from. I become aware of his tactical footwork and confusing hand blows. We exchange strong punches, block and counter, butts, elbow strikes, knife-hand thrusts, front and side-kicks, blow by blow, kick by kick and what have you. As the scuffle goes on, both of us are sweating vigorously. My muscles tensed, my impulses are automatically reacting. Freddie’s face shows determination to win at all cost. His hateful eyes are crashing on my face. If his eyes could kill, I must have been killed a while ago. His obvious focus is to knock myself down in one hard, single blow. Just in time, I take advantage penetrating his counter. As he delivers his front thrust kick to my abdomen, I depress it with a downward crossed block, and in split seconds, I successfully execute one quick reversed roundhouse kick with my heel to his jaw, sending him down below the ringside. He looks dismayed as he droops on the canvass -- surprised. His furious eyes are punishing. Groggy but obviously fuming, he jumped back from the canvass and attacked in two hefty leaps. “KIYAHH!” Freddie yelled; executing a thundering flying kick to hit me in the neck, but I already anticipate his desperate move. Now I know he’s no longer using his head. I leaped higher into the air above his cover, at the same time hitting him back with one spectacular vertical elbow strike to his forehead. TO BE CONTINUED.