"Let's run it again," James Jonas said as he waved the young middleweight forward.
Theo nodded and adjusted his mouthguard. His face was already flushed, chest rising and falling hard. But there was no hesitation. If Jonas said go again, you went again.
The cage door shut behind them. Damon leaned against the fence, arms crossed.
The rest of the team circled around the cage, some sitting on mats, others standing with gloves in hand. Everyone watched closely.
Theo touched gloves with Jonas and stepped back, bouncing lightly on his feet.
He had size and raw athleticism. Powerful legs, strong hips. But he was still learning how to put it together.
His biggest weakness was overcommitting, he tried to bulldoze his way through exchanges instead of setting traps.
Jonas didn't move like a coach. He moved like a fighter who never forgot how to fight. His stance was relaxed, almost lazy. His hands were low. But his eyes never stopped watching.
