They are the only ones who entertain me. I am the only one who roots for them.  Two angry boxers with gloves on their hands and sweat in their hair like dew on moss. Two underdog boxers, fighting in the title match. Two greedy-eyed men placed on the biggest stage. From my seat I can see a classic match, but my friends say it’s nothing special.
Their strength is no secret. They send punch after punch, desperately trying to knock the other down. They dodge left and they swerve right and they circle around the ring, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. This is how they fight.
Let one make a mistake, and the other would celebrate victoriously in the ring, raising his hand at the end. Fight, fight, fight I say on the edge of my seat. They box.
When I am too bored and too tired to keep playing doodle jump, it is then that I watch a boxing match.When there is nothing good on ESPN 1. Two who made it despite being underdogs. Two who want to win and forget how to lose. Two whose only reason is to entertain and entertain.