The longer they stayed upright, the more Ronny found space to land shots and punish every failed entry.
Coleman tried a new angle.
He threw a left hook that missed, then spun fast for a back kick, not to land, but to set up another entry.
As his leg came down, he darted in, reaching for Ronny's left leg this time.
Ronny saw it.
He shifted back, caught the shot shallow, and twisted his hips.
Then he did something different.
Instead of defending with the usual sprawl, he whipped a sharp right hook down at Coleman's ear mid-shot. It connected.
Coleman's hands loosened. His balance wobbled.
Ronny stepped back, then launched a knee straight up the middle.
It grazed the chest. Not clean, but enough to force Coleman to stand upright.
Ronny didn't hesitate.
He whipped a left uppercut under the ribs, followed by a right cross that popped the chin. Coleman backed up, shaking his head. Not rocked, but clearly frustrated.
Ronny was making it a puzzle.
