or across the e-mail.
Kennard had to convince his father to come out of retirement and train Taymar, but it wasn’t easy.
“Dude is washed up,” Bernard had said, when his son first brought up the idea.
Kennard looked at his father dead-on. “Well, if anyone can bring him back, you can, Pop. You won’t be sorry.”
“Do you know the difference between a dream and a fairy tale, son?” he said. “Dreams are meant to be achieved. Fairy tales are to be believed.”
“I see it slightly different, Dad. I think that dreams are meant to be believed, as well. However, fairy tales are meant to convince someone else to believe in them.”
Bernard chuckled. “I think we’re saying the same thing.”
“I feel strongly about this, Pop. But, make no mistake about it; I’m going to need your help to pull it off.”
Bernard said that he would think about it and then walked away. Kennard was sure that Pops would do it, but knew better than to press his father. The man was as stubborn as he was a good trainer. A week later, Bernard sat Kennard down.
“You really believe in this guy?” The question had come from left field as far as Kennard was concerned. He thought his father had dismissed the idea altogether.
“Yeah, Pop. I do.” Kennard could barely contain his smile. “Call it a hunch.”
Kennard and his father didn’t always see eye to eye, but Bernard loved his son more than life itself, and he believed in his son’s instincts.
Bernard signed on as Taymar’s trainer; Kennard signed the fighter to Knockout Management. Taymar understood that this was his last chance. With the father-son duo behind him, if he listened to them, his financial woes would be a thing of the past. And since that time Taymar didn’t look back, only down on the chumps unlucky enough to get in the ring with him.
* * *
Unique had to admit, she was enjoying the festivities. Not only were both boxers signed to Kennard’s management company, he was one of the promoters as well. Her man was a genius when it came to making money. And he was a stallion in bed.
When Taymar walked on the stage, he was carrying a big, beautifully wrapped gold box with a black bow, which he handed to Jang. “I bought you a present,” he said into the microphone, for everyone to hear.
Jang played along, good sport and all.
“You shouldn’t have,” he said.
Jang opened the box. A sheepish smirk appeared on his face once he looked inside. A wreath of flowers, the kind mourners send to funerals. Taymar had beaten him at his own game.
The card read: FOR THE COUNT OF TEN. REST IN PEACE!
Unique was enjoying herself, sitting beside her future mother-in-law … all the way up until she looked over her shoulder. Fat Tee was there, with a Kool-Aid grin plastered on his face. What the fuck did he want now ? All Unique knew was she wasn’t going to dare let him come over and approach her, with Ms. Katie sitting there to witness whatever recklessness he had to say.
Ms. Katie could see the look on Unique’s face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you okay, dear?”
“What’s wrong?” Tyeedah asked, sensing something wasn’t right.
“I have to go to the restroom. I think I’m going to be sick.” Unique stormed off quickly. She knew she had to leave the press conference because she didn’t want any confusion between her and Fat Tee to pop off especially since Kennard was within a fifty-foot radius. Ms. Katie was about to direct Tyeedah to go with Unique, but Tyeedah could already sense that something was wrong and was hot on Unique’s heels. Fat Tee followed them both.
Outside of the ballroom in the lobby of the hotel, there were a few people hanging out but they were caught up in the festivities and didn’t pay them any mind. Fat Tee stopped them in their tracks right outside the ladies’ restroom.
He called out, “Ayo, I need to talk to you.”
Unique spun around. “We have nothing to talk about. I told you two weeks ago,
Kennard had to convince his father to come out of retirement and train Taymar, but it wasn’t easy.
“Dude is washed up,” Bernard had said, when his son first brought up the idea.
Kennard looked at his father dead-on. “Well, if anyone can bring him back, you can, Pop. You won’t be sorry.”
“Do you know the difference between a dream and a fairy tale, son?” he said. “Dreams are meant to be achieved. Fairy tales are to be believed.”
“I see it slightly different, Dad. I think that dreams are meant to be believed, as well. However, fairy tales are meant to convince someone else to believe in them.”
Bernard chuckled. “I think we’re saying the same thing.”
“I feel strongly about this, Pop. But, make no mistake about it; I’m going to need your help to pull it off.”
Bernard said that he would think about it and then walked away. Kennard was sure that Pops would do it, but knew better than to press his father. The man was as stubborn as he was a good trainer. A week later, Bernard sat Kennard down.
“You really believe in this guy?” The question had come from left field as far as Kennard was concerned. He thought his father had dismissed the idea altogether.
“Yeah, Pop. I do.” Kennard could barely contain his smile. “Call it a hunch.”
Kennard and his father didn’t always see eye to eye, but Bernard loved his son more than life itself, and he believed in his son’s instincts.
Bernard signed on as Taymar’s trainer; Kennard signed the fighter to Knockout Management. Taymar understood that this was his last chance. With the father-son duo behind him, if he listened to them, his financial woes would be a thing of the past. And since that time Taymar didn’t look back, only down on the chumps unlucky enough to get in the ring with him.
* * *
Unique had to admit, she was enjoying the festivities. Not only were both boxers signed to Kennard’s management company, he was one of the promoters as well. Her man was a genius when it came to making money. And he was a stallion in bed.
When Taymar walked on the stage, he was carrying a big, beautifully wrapped gold box with a black bow, which he handed to Jang. “I bought you a present,” he said into the microphone, for everyone to hear.
Jang played along, good sport and all.
“You shouldn’t have,” he said.
Jang opened the box. A sheepish smirk appeared on his face once he looked inside. A wreath of flowers, the kind mourners send to funerals. Taymar had beaten him at his own game.
The card read: FOR THE COUNT OF TEN. REST IN PEACE!
Unique was enjoying herself, sitting beside her future mother-in-law … all the way up until she looked over her shoulder. Fat Tee was there, with a Kool-Aid grin plastered on his face. What the fuck did he want now ? All Unique knew was she wasn’t going to dare let him come over and approach her, with Ms. Katie sitting there to witness whatever recklessness he had to say.
Ms. Katie could see the look on Unique’s face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you okay, dear?”
“What’s wrong?” Tyeedah asked, sensing something wasn’t right.
“I have to go to the restroom. I think I’m going to be sick.” Unique stormed off quickly. She knew she had to leave the press conference because she didn’t want any confusion between her and Fat Tee to pop off especially since Kennard was within a fifty-foot radius. Ms. Katie was about to direct Tyeedah to go with Unique, but Tyeedah could already sense that something was wrong and was hot on Unique’s heels. Fat Tee followed them both.
Outside of the ballroom in the lobby of the hotel, there were a few people hanging out but they were caught up in the festivities and didn’t pay them any mind. Fat Tee stopped them in their tracks right outside the ladies’ restroom.
He called out, “Ayo, I need to talk to you.”
Unique spun around. “We have nothing to talk about. I told you two weeks ago,
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