The story of Mickey Blessco.

60 more seconds and the bell would ring once more. He sat in his corner looking at his feet threw a cut and swollen eye, between the blood and sweat his distorted face poured he had no place for the tears that welled up inside his heart. He felt defeated. When he remembered the promise his father made him before he left to fight in the war. “Mick, I love you very much son, sometimes a man has to do things he don’t completely believe in. I can’t see the other side this situation, thats where we our put  trust in God, that He will carry me threw it. I can promise u this son,I’m gonna give it all I got the entire time I’m in this thing, Ima need u to do the same.” Mick’s father firmly gripped his hand, looked into his eyes and smiled. The look on his fathers face would stay with him. It was the last time that Mickey saw his father alive.

Just as his recollection seemed to pause, the bell rang in the beginning of the 11th round for the Friday night fight on this cold December night in New Yorks Maddison square guardian. Mick stood up lifted his heavy gloves into guard and began his shuffle to carry his body into the center of the ring. Mick`s gloves felt like solid led ,his head felt as if it were a plate spinning atop of his shoulders, vision impaired from the blows he’d received up to this point of the fight. Just as the fighters squared up, the cold impact of a tight leather glove came into Mick’s distorted vision with an imperial jab that sent chills down his spine, as he watched himself meet the mat of the ring. The count started and his head spun, his body was giving up. He placed his gloves beside his head and rose to his hands and knees, spit out his mouthguard with the fresh blood that the last punch drew from his teeth. The thoughts came pouring in “Quit Mick, your finished” he thought if he would just stay down he would be home soon, to his beautiful wife and two children, Bonnie and Mickey jr, how he missed holding them close and resting his tired bones on the evenings they spent together. His eyes rose to see the feet of his opponent still lightly shuffling awaiting for a victory to be his own ,taking home the belt of the great Mickey B, champion and mentor of the small Bronx neighborhood where he grew up. As the ringing in his head ceased to give away to hearing 5-6-7, he made clear the statement, his father made to him many years ago as he firmly shook his hand for the last time. “I’m going to give it my best son, the whole way threw” the grip of his firm hand said so much more in that promise. Mick more completely understood it was a promise that as long as the blood pumped by his courageous heart runs threw my veins, I will give it my all in life no matter where and what situations and circumstances come. I won’t give up, I won’t lay down. Mickey B, felt his fist clench the gloves inside his palms and his fathers promise brought him to his feet.

Bells rang and the fighters both stepped into the center of the ring. Their muscles flexed, sweat poured out of their bodies, there eyes peered into one another. The first punch thrown was from Mickey’s opponent making an impact to the side of his temple his brain felt as if it was a pinball, and blurred his vision. As Mickey`s eyes focused he could transparently see his father smile, and feel the grip of his strong handshake firmly im his own. Mickey clinched and drew up every ounce of strength from within himself and charged to land a left jab on his opponent. The punch bought him a fraction of a second to also combo and make contact with the right ,a left, and another right followed by a powerful uppercut inside his opponents guard that lifted his feet off of the ring floor. That evening was the last time Mickey B would step into the ring to defend and take home his champion title belt. Though this was not the last battle in life that he would prevail to rise from.
Just as in life we are brought to our knees time and time again as our friend Mickey has shown us, it’s not about how many times you fall, you just have to rise again one more than your knocked down. We only achieve our best threw the overcoming of all life has brought us. Life is full of pain,blood,tears,and joy. This fighter made a life out of the promise his father made him on there last contact. That no matter how hard the ground is that u hit, as Long u are on this side of the dirt u have a choice to make. To rise to your feet once more! For our friend Mickey he decided to give it his best. He continued to make that promise his father handed down true in his life, as he continued to get back up. Knowing that the fall will come, the decision to take to our feet is always our own to make.

Matthew Bruce @matbrox