"Travis S. Taylor - Warp Speed" - читать интересную книгу автора (Taylor Travis S)

realized that I had let my elbows rise and I was not covering my ribs. I knew this because I presently spit
my mouthpiece in my opponent's face while at the same time a searing pain ran through my ribs on the
right side of my body. You see, I fight right side forward since my right leg is more flexible than my left.
Not that it mattered this time, since I failed to lead with a kick.
I heard the shouts and cheers for the other guy increase in volume and enthusiasm while I fell to the
floor clutching my ribs. That's just the way it is on the International Sport Karate Association (ISKA)
tournament circuit. The referee was talking to my opponent,
"Turn and bow!" Then in my ear, "Do you want your sensei or will you make it?" He handed me a
slightly dirty mouthpiece.
"Nah, I'll make it okay." I blew dirt off the mouthpiece and noticed my instructor shouting at me as I
made to my feet.
"What's that rainbow jump crap! I never taught you that. Let's go Anson, one, two, three. White belt
stuff! Stay tight!" He yelled and ticked off his fingers one, two, three at me.
I bounced back to the line with each breath burning like fire in my side. Two ribs were broken at the
least. I was sure of it. But, if I had any intentions of staying in this fight, I knew that I had better not show
a soft spot.
Mike and I have been friends for years and I'm sure he didn't mean to break my ribs. But he was
here to win this tournament just like I was and we were tied in points for ISKA champion. This fight was
going to be a tough one. The last fight of the season should be a tough one, I guess, especially if it's for
the championship.
"Are you ready?" The ref asked.
I nodded and lined up left side forward this time, my right side being soft.
"Judges call, I got two points, blue uniform." With a look around the ring at the other two judges, it
was obvious that I was behind two points.
"Okay touch gloves. Fight!"
Just like in class with the instructor yelling, I could hear in my mind, skip side kick, backfist, reverse
punch! One. Two. Three! I got him!
"Break," yelled the center ref. "Judges call!" He held up two fingers in my direction and scanned the
other two judges. "That is two red! Two blue! Touch gloves! Ready, fight!"
Skip side kick, backfist, reverse punch!
This time it didn't work as well. Mike sidestepped and down-blocked the skip kick. But that is why it
goes one, two, three or skip side kick, backfist, reverse punch! The skip kick occupied his lead hand
with a down-block leaving his head open for the backfist and his chest open for the reverse punch. Of
course, I caught one to the body in there somewhere. But, I was first and that's what counts in sport
karate.
"Break!"
"Judges call? Okay we have three red, two blue. Ready?"
"Time ref!" I called and motioned to my footgear as though it were loose.
"Time red."
I knelt and acted like I was fixing an equipment problem. My ribs ached and the second of extra
breathing time helped.
"Let's go red!"
I bounced up like a rubber ball and nodded to the ref. I was thinking I couldn't take another second
of this. A punch would mean one point. Not enough and I knew I wasn't going to make it much longer. I
was starting to feel queasy but I lined up right side forward! Just a chance I would have to take.
"Ready? Fight!"
This time I was too slow. Mike rushed me with a barrage of hand movements. He is a Kenpo student
after all, mostly hands. I slipped to the right and pulled my knee up and proceeded with a side kick. To
my surprise, Mike did the same thing. Fortunately, or not so fortunately—I'm not sure—I'm more
flexible. My foot got higher than his and as a result his foot slid down the inside of my leg and caught my