It was the usual routine today, that is until I walked into the boxing club and low and behold what should stop me in my tracks but a particular guy sitting ringside. At first glance, he looked like Snickers. At second glance, he acted like Snickers. At third, fourth... the billionth glance,... he definitely appeared to be the Filipino version of Snickers.
He was like the Snickers I first met -- intense at boxing and he only talked to the coaches.
I couldn't stop looking at him,... seriously.
Even Coach Adamson called me on it during padwork. We were in the ring, doing pads, when I kept on sneaking peeks at that guy so with every glance I gave him Coach Adamson tried to hit me on the head, the side of my face, or to the body with his target mitts.
Seeing him train made me feel nauseous but it also made me sad. To see this guy training so hard and so into his game, just like Snickers, but knowing that Snickers went as far as he should have, could have and would have gone with his boxing. Too many factors were at play with his family being a big one.
I still think of Snickers, of course, but it's different now. I use to be so mad and bitter at him, afraid of him and upset, but now I don't really feel much beyond feeling sad for him. He taught me so much about pursing dreams and becoming everything I put my mind to it but he gave up on his own dream. He stopped taking the advice he had for years given me. He use to walk the walk and talk the talk, but now he's just like the very people who use to go against his dreams and call him crazy for reaching for the stars... hopeless.
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