Member-only story
Making Weight
A Fiction
“Johnny, you know how much I respect you. You have been my manager for fifteen years. But hell, what you are asking me to do is crazy.”
“Look champ.”
The moment I heard that word champ, I interrupted the Tulip immediately. “Don’t call me champ. I ain’t no champ.”
“Jay, you are a champ to me. You are my best boy. And we are so close to our goal. You know you gotta please the guys in the office. They can push you up the ranks.”
“Yeah, but what you want is a big stretch. I gotta go down twenty pounds. And I got to do that in three weeks. Do you realize…”
This time it was the Tulips turn to interrupt me. “Yes, yes. I know. I know. You just fought Anderson three weeks ago. And you gained a couple of pounds since then. So what? You done this before. Think of the money. A take-home of sixty thousand clams ain’t too bad. Is it?”
“Tulip, do you realize I’ve got to go down one weight class below where I feel comfortable? I haven’t fought at one forty-seven in the last ten years. I ain’t that guy no more. And not to mention, It’s too damn soon. I need the rest. Shieet, I still have scar tissue around my left eye.”
“Please kid, do it for me. At least get started. If in two weeks you don’t feel strong, we say you got injured in training…
