FIGHT NIGHT


Hey ho, I’m ready to roll! Another year down the line, and I feel like I zooming on through this universe, with a gung-ho, smash-n’-grab attitude to it all, and loving every minute of it.

A few years back, I made an almost unconscious decision to do away with mediocrity, and to strive for nothing but the best. This meant shedding off some dead-weight, steeling myself against what, at the time, seemed like insurmountable odds. Soon enough, I got a few cheerleaders and team-mates and like-minded folk in my corner. Most have been with me for the entire ride till now, some dropped off, and I damn sure know there are so many more I have not even yet met.

It’s a curious blessing to be where I am today. It’s an even greater burden not to get swept away by the amazement of it all and end up forgetting the very purpose for which it is I do all this. But it is on such days that I sit back and chill, think, talk, and sometimes reminisce.

Predictably, it then of course is on this day that I am reminded of the purpose of my existence; why I get up each day to the sometimes unnerving hustles of the paths I choose. It is for me, my family and my friends. For those who stand in my corner through each round of this fight, hollering at each jab ducked, cheering every uppercut landed, conjuring up combos to knock out each fitting opponent before me.

And at the break of each round, when the gong goes and I trudge fitfully to my corner, a winning smirk exchanged with the team, I know the next round is going to be even better. The challenge is greater, the (metaphorical of course) muscles sorer, and the opponent leaner and meaner.

But at that break, I’ll sit, catch my breath, and cherish the cool drink in my mouth, quenching the fires that rage within. And prepare.

Today is that day. The 23rd round is beginning. The gong strikes. FIGHT!

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