Domination in America, Starting from being a Boxing Champion

Chapter 039 The Connection and the Absurd Night



"On June 13, 2008, the Golden Gloves National Championship, co-hosted by the Golden Gloves Boxing Committee and the Amateur Boxing Association, concluded at the American Airlines Arena in Miami.

Many outstanding boxers appeared at this championship.

There was Deontay Wilder, the Heavyweight Gold Glove champion, and Andy Ruiz Jr., the Cruiserweight champion.

Light Heavyweight champion Joe Smith and Middleweight champion George Groves, among others.

However, the most attention-grabbing boxer at this championship was undoubtedly Link Baker, the Miami kid.

Starting from the regional competitions, he captured the interest of boxing fans by winning all his matches by KO.

By the divisional matches, he had accumulated 14 wins from 14 fights with 14 KOs, storming into the finals in an unprecedented manner, which led to numerous interviews and reports from various media outlets.

He was also rated by 'Ring Magazine,' the largest circulating boxing magazine, as one of the most anticipated rookies of the year.

In the finals, he successively KO'd the iron man Morales, the mantis-like Andzeje, and the Amateur Boxing Championship winner Andrea Berto, in a way that surprised everyone, taking the Super Middleweight championship title.

At six o'clock in the afternoon of that day, the cable TV channel HBO broadcasted the live Super Middleweight bout.

According to Nielsen data, the broadcast reached a peak viewership of 10.28 million homes, making it the highest-rated program in its time slot.

Baker's aggressive fighting style in the ring, his relentless offensive onslaught, his heavy-hitting punches, and his astonishing stamina all made a profound impression on the audience.

Practically overnight, Baker became a sensation across America.

This phenomenon was not just online or in the media, but also among ordinary people. Many knew there was a boxer with handsome looks, highly skilled techniques, and exceptionally hard fists. His name was Link Baker.

With his sudden rise to fame, media outlets began to rehash and report on his past news, with the 'fake fight scandal' leading the charge.
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With a record of 17 wins and 17 KOs in 17 fights, Baker captured the Golden Gloves Amateur Championship title, setting an unprecedented new record.

Before him, in amateur boxing, no one had ever won all their matches by KO, including the historically acclaimed 'Brown Bomber' Joe Louis, undefeated boxer Rocky Marciano, and 'Iron' Mike Tyson—none could achieve this.

Yet, a 20-year-old boxer who had been training for only three years managed to do it.

This extraordinary record provoked skepticism from many, including boxing legends like Roy Jones Jr., Bernard Hopkins, Chris Byrd, Hashim Rahman, James Toney, and Giant Valuev.

They publicly questioned Baker's achievements, suspecting his all-KO march to the finals might have been rigged.

However, what was even more surprising was Baker's response.

On the day of the competition, in front of dozens of media reporters, Baker issued a challenge to all the boxers who doubted him and other renowned figures in boxing.

He told the media that if these boxers could last three rounds with him, he would consider it a loss. He even provocatively challenged Roy Jones Jr., stating that if Jones could last one round against him, he would also consider it a loss.

Baker's tough talk, following his rise to fame, was widely reported by major media outlets, causing quite a stir in North American boxing circles.

Some criticized him for being too arrogant, seeking attention in this manner.

Others supported him, seeing him as having personality, courage, and the willingness to challenge everything.

Whether criticism or praise, Link Baker, the rookie boxer who had debuted less than a month ago, became an overnight sensation in America, turning into one of the brightest prospects among the new generation of boxers."

—— Excerpt from the front page of the sports section of the Miami Herald.

——

"Hmm~"

When Emma Watson woke up in her room, the stars had long faded, and the brilliant noonday sun of Miami had already penetrated the blue curtains, invading this small but exceptionally warm and cozy room.

Light blue curtains, walls coated with a light blue hue, the floor covered with cashmere carpeting the same color as the sand outside, soft, white, and delicate, and the soft bed beneath her, like a small boat moored quietly on the beach.

Emma placed the back of her hand against her forehead, her head still a bit dizzy, but what made her dizzier was the dream from last night.

Thinking of last night's events, she couldn't help but bite tightly on the corner of her blanket, her delicate cheeks becoming flushed and hot.

She had had a terrifying dream last night where she was sitting in this 'small boat' below her, sailing through the tumultuous sea.

The weather gradually turned, fierce winds followed by torrential rain, hurricanes accompanied by lightning, repeatedly striking the small boat below, not knowing how long the storm lasted, several times nearly leading to shipwreck and loss of life...

"Damn it!"

Curled up under the blanket, Emma punch the empty pillow next to her in annoyance, blaming the innocent pillow for being last night's Mr. Storm.

After taking her frustration out on the pillow for a while, she felt much better.

Emma pulled the blanket over her chest and slowly sat up from the bed, her delicate brows slightly furrowed, and with a hint of indescribable pain, she cursed a few more times at 'that barbaric jerk.'

"Link? Link?"

Emma called out with a hoarse voice, leaning against the pillow.

No one answered from outside, and annoyed, Emma threw the pillow onto the carpet, muttering 'jerk.'

Ding-a-ling!

The mobile phone by the bed began to ring—it was hers.

Emma sighed, reached for the phone, which showed an incoming call from her aunt Irene, who was also her agent.

There were also over a dozen missed calls on the phone from Aunt Irene, Daniel, Robert, and from 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince' director David Yates.

Emma suddenly remembered that she was an actress, and she had several scenes to shoot today. She had planned to go back after watching the fight yesterday, but for some reason, when Link invited her, she had agreed without hesitation.

"It's all Link's fault!"

Emma took a deep breath and answered her aunt's call with a cautious "good morning."

"Emma, it's already noon, what's wrong with your voice?"

Aunt Irene's serious and rigid voice came through the phone.

"Auntie, I'm fine." Emma said carefully, with a pinched voice.

"Where are you? You have scenes to shoot today, two of them, did you forget?"

"I'm in Miami, I haven't forgotten, I just..." Emma saw several distinct red finger marks on her fair calf and bit her lip hard, "Auntie, I'm injured."

"Injured? Where? Is it serious? Have you been to a doctor? Which hospital are you at? I'll come right away."

Aunt Irene's voice sounded like a machine-gun burst from the phone.

Emma was startled; if her aunt came and saw her like this, the truth would come out. She quickly replied, "Auntie, you don't need to come; it's just a little injury. Yesterday... There were too many people at the boxing match, and I accidentally twisted my ankle. It's not a big deal, I'll be fine after resting for a couple of days."

"Really no big issue?"

"Really."

Emma looked at the finger marks on her leg and thought they should disappear in a couple of days, right?

Damn Link!

"Then where are you now? Is someone taking care of you?"

"Yes, a friend's place, a good friend."

Emma suddenly saw the dress hanging at the head of the bed; the hem had accidentally gotten cake on it at the party the day before. There was a stain, which had been washed clean, now smelling of laundry detergent with a citrus scent, the same as Link's.

Emma unconsciously curled her lips into a smile, "He's been quite nice to me."

"He? A friend of the opposite sex? When did you make guy friends in Miami? Emma, you didn't report this to me." Aunt Irene's voice carried a hint of displeasure.

"It's two friends, a man and a woman; they are... a couple."

Emma stuck out her tongue, feeling more and more adept at lying.

After chatting with her aunt for over ten minutes, Emma managed to calm her down and dispel her idea of coming to Miami.

Emma rubbed her head and called Director David Yates, apologizing to him and the crew, promising to be on time tomorrow in Orlando and not cause any trouble for the crew.

The director told her to rest well and to come after she had recovered from her injury.

Seeing calls from Daniel and Robert, she debated, then sent them messages to tell them she was alright.

Soon after, Daniel sent her five messages in a row, asking how she was, saying he'd heard from her aunt that she'd injured her foot and asking if it was serious, if it hurt, which hospital she was in, and he and Robert wanted to visit her.

Emma rolled her eyes and simply replied 'I'm fine', then put the phone aside.

"Haha, Link, you are a boxer, but I didn't expect your diving skills to be even better, it's unbelievable."

"I'm a professional diver, an amateur boxer; boxing is just a part-time job."

"Haha, Link, you're really funny."

The conversation of two men came from outside. Emma, wrapped in a blanket, got up and went to the window, pulling the curtains slightly aside. As the sunlight instantly poured in from outside, two men in black diving suits, carrying diving gear and laughing, approached the building from the blue ocean and white sandy beach.

The one in front was a middle-aged man wearing a wig, who might have forgotten to take it off before diving, as the wet wig now sat on his head like a damp bird's nest.

The guy in the back was a jerk, in a fitted diving suit, displaying all his well-defined muscles with long, powerful legs. His handsome face, with sharper features than that of Miami's sun and white teeth, along with a pair of bright blue eyes, was more mesmerizing and profound than the sea outside the window.

Emma clutched her racing chest, staring at the man, and found a perfect excuse for last night's madness: the jerk was too sexy and irresistible, too strong and brutal, and she, just a small girl, was overpowered and had to succumb to everything that happened afterward.

That was it, absolutely correct.

Emma nodded to herself.

Hearing the sound of unlocking at the store's entrance, she immediately went back to bed, covered herself with the blanket, her back turned toward the door, and closed her eyes, pretending to be deeply asleep.

After a while, the bedroom door was pushed open—Link walked in, carrying the scent of sunlight.

"Emma! Emma!"

Emma kept her eyes firmly shut, not moving an inch, like a princess who just ate a poisoned apple.

"Emma, I brought you breakfast. I'm not sure what you like, so here's ham pizza, a Cuban sandwich, fruit salad, ice cream, and freshly squeezed orange juice. If you don't like these, tell me what you want instead."

"That guy outside, Simmons, he's a reporter for the Miami Herald, he's here to interview me, it'll take about half an hour."

"Also, your phone rang a couple of times this morning, you were sleeping, so I didn't wake you, remember to call back when you're up, so they don't worry about you."

After speaking, Link went out, and the door was gently closed behind him.

Emma opened her brown eyes and blinked, snorting softly, I was clearly sleeping, who's awake? Talking so much to thin air, what a nag!

Suddenly noticing the pillow she had thrown away was back on the bed, Emma felt her face warm up, realizing she had failed to feign sleep and kicked the pillow off the bed again, annoyed.

A folding table with some delicious food and fresh fruit had been added beside the bed.

Hearing her stomach grumble, Emma sat up again and began enjoying her breakfast, only to hear Link conversing with the wigged man outside—unexpectedly, he was a reporter.

——


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