I am at Gleason’s Gym. I am a beam holding up the ceiling. I am part of its hanger-out crew. I have trained and been a trainer here for thirty-one years.
I am one of the many that tries to be a stand-out but often ends up being fragments of greatness that never solidifies.
Bernard Hopkins is here today for a press conference. He is sculpted from our concept of marble. I was never a champion. I was a middle of the road professional. That’s all I wanted. That’s all I was.
Sergey Kovalev has a pocked granite face. He is ugly, humorless like the Russian government. He has knocked out 23 of his 25 opponents. Even if he wins he can’t win because his liberal communist past follows him around like an unearned meal.
The fair share captures up with the unfortunate loss and the difference between the rich and the poor is grander than the income disparity in New York.
And Obama is the king of all domains who pretends that he is concerned about the middle class. I wonder how long Obama would last with Kovalev. Would he be slowly dismantled by Hopkins? Is he a man or a pick pocket stealing America’s exceptionalism away from us?
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