Domination in America, Starting from being a Boxing Champion Chapter 57: Interview

"Mr. Link Baker, congratulations on winning the third round. How do you think your opponent Rosniel perford?"

At the event, a Cuban sports channel reporter asked during the post-match interview.

"Rosniel? He fought very well, strong in all aspects. If he hadn’t been injured, he would probably have been even more formidable."

Link said, wiping sweat with a towel.

"If he had not been injured, do you have the confidence to beat him?"

"Yes, in boxing, I never lack confidence."

Link said confidently, clenching his fist.

"Mr. Link Baker, it is said that Miss Emma Watson returned to London yesterday after finishing ’Harry Potter.’ How is your relationship progressing with her, can you share a little bit about it?"

Experience tales at empire

A reporter from the Arican Express loudly asked, handing over the microphone.

Link smiled lightly, "We’re just friends. Mister reporter, this is a sports event, please ask questions related to boxing. Next ti, I will refuse to answer these kinds of questions."

"Mr. Link Baker, congratulations on advancing to the next round of the qualifiers. Recently, the Arican dostic dia has been discussing your continuation of winning fights by KO in the Olympics. So believe that insisting on winning by KO could cause unnecessary harm to your opponents. Do you agree with this view?"

A reporter from the Miami Herald asked.

Link frowned slightly. He had also seen such comnts in boxing forums over the past two days and said indifferently, "As for these unprofessional remarks, I do not wish to comnt. Moreover, the voices questioning have been around since my debut.

When I succeed in KOing my opponents, they suspect I’m throwing fights, and when I won the Golden Gloves Championship, they questioned the legitimacy of my results.

Now that I’ve successfully made it to the third round of the Aricas Zone qualifiers, proving that my strength is not only real but also far beyond their imagination, they have nothing to criticize about and think there’s sothing wrong with my way of fighting.

It’s ridiculous. No matter what I do, they always find a way to slander , so I won’t comnt on it. I will prove with my fists just how ludicrous their remarks are."

"Well said, Link, go for it and strive for that Olympic spot!"

A few reporters shouted.

"Thank you! I will."

Link waved his fist, leaving the venue surrounded by his fellow Arican boxers.

----

The third round was over and there were three rounds left in the super middleweight competition: the quarterfinals, semifinals, and finals.

The boxers that advanced to the top five were Link, Lorenzo Aragon, Fernando Vargas from the xico team, Douglas Silva from the Jamaica team, and Calvin Peters from the Haiti boxing team.

After the draw, Link was set to fight Haitian boxer Calvin Peters in the fourth round.

Pister, a 23-year-old black man nicknad ’The Rock,’ was 6 feet tall with a 72-inch reach. His amateur record was 43 wins, 1 loss in 44 fights. Since the opponent was preparing for professional competitions, his strength, physicality, and resistance to being hit were all very superior. His profile showed that he had never been knocked down in a match.

This was a rather tricky opponent.

"Link, I’ve got rotten luck; I drew you another tough opponent,"

Coach Ed said helplessly upon returning from the draw.

"It’s okay, I like fighting strong opponents."

Link said nonchalantly.

He had co to participate in amateur competitions partly to accumulate a record and build his reputation, and partly to gain more match experience and refine his techniques.

Fighting these challenging opponents gave him more experience.

So regardless of how strong the opponent was, he would take on every single one that ca his way.

After sending Coach Ed off, he turned on the video recorder to watch his opponent’s fight tapes and took out a pen to list the opponent’s strengths and weaknesses, looking for a way to find the opponent’s weak spots.

Every boxer has weak points, such as Andzeje, whose weakness was in endurance and resistance to hits.

Andrea Berto, compared to Link, was shorter with a slightly shorter reach, which was a disadvantage when fighting Link;

Then there was Rosniel, whom he had fought recently, whose rib injuries were weak points.

And his next opponent, Calvin Pister, had Willpower A , Physicality A, Resistance to Hits A, Punching Power A, Technique B , Speed B .

This was an opponent with very prominent strengths and weaknesses, sowhat similar to Morales, but in terms of willpower and resistance to hits, clearly much stronger than Morales, making the upcoming fight another tough one.

Ding dong!

While watching the videos, Taylor’s call ca in, asking about the progress of his matches.

Since she didn’t know much about amateur boxing, not even how the scoring worked, Link simply described the course of the fights to her—the knockout rounds, 18 to 9, 9 to 5, and three consecutive wins, all by KO, as usual.

"Link, can you make it to the finals?"

"Of course, my goal is to be the world champion."

"Go for it. I really hope to see you beco the world champion. Which day is the final?"

"July 5th, in two days."

Link rembered what Taylor had said last ti, stating she would definitely co to watch the next ti he fought, or else she’d grow five centiters taller.

Wondering if this busy person would have ti this ti.

"In two days? Let check my schedule... Ah, that’s bad, Link. I have a music awards ceremony on that day, and I probably won’t be able to make it. You won’t be mad at , will you?"

Taylor said apologetically over the phone.

Link shook his head and laughed, "It’s okay, this is Cuba, Aricans can’t get visa-free entry, and it’s not easy for you to fly over. We agreed to et dostically, next ti I have a match at ho, you can co and watch if you have ti."

"Link, you’re so kind, what am I going to do if I keep liking you more and more?"

Link smiled, chatted for a few more minutes, and hung up the phone. He continued to watch the match recordings and organize information about his next opponent.

In Los Angeles, the living room of the Swift Family villa was brightly lit.

Taylor put down her guitar, hung up the phone with a smile on her face, and humd a song while tapping on the keyboard to book a flight to Havana online.

Suddenly she slled a fragrance, looked up, and saw Mrs. Andrea standing in front of the coffee table, leaning over to look at the computer screen with a white face mask on.

"Mom, what are you doing?"

Taylor was startled and leaned back, patting her slightly full chest discontentedly toward Mrs. Andrea.

"You just told Link that you’re attending a music award ceremony on July 5th and don’t have ti to go to Havana for the match, so why are you booking a flight ticket?"

Mrs. Andrea stood up straight and asked with a gentle tap on her face mask.

Taylor curled her red lips and said with pride, "I’m not telling you!"

Mrs. Andrea snorted with disdain, "Isn’t it just playing a surprise? You first tell him you can’t make it, let him be disappointed, then suddenly show up at the match on the day, giving him a big surprise, right? It’s boring, it’s all played out by our generation."

Taylor’s smile faded, and she looked at Mrs. Andrea with a lancholic gaze.

Mrs. Andrea felt uncomfortable under her stare, waved her hands, and urged her to go to bed early, then returned to the upstairs bedroom.

Swish!

As soon as she entered the bedroom, Mrs. Andrea imdiately tore off her face mask, and her complexion turned cold, none of her previous gentle and kind deanor.

She took out her mobile phone and commanded her assistant Emily to find several important events and fill Taylor’s schedule on July 5th, reminding her they must be significant, the kind Taylor would hate to cancel or be unable to cancel, the more important, the better.

"But..."

Assistant Emily’s voice sounded hesitant over the phone.

"But what?"

"Anne, Taylor had previously instructed us that she intends to go to Havana, Cuba, to watch Link’s match in the coming days, and she asked us not to schedule too much work. She even reminded us again this morning. If we suddenly arrange a lot of work for her, she will definitely be angry if she finds out," said assistant Emily cautiously.

"Leave Taylor to , you don’t have to worry. All you need to do is find a way to keep Taylor busy, so that she doesn’t have ti to go to Havana that day. That’s the task I’ve given you, and you figure out how to do it," Mrs. Andrea commanded before hanging up the phone.

Suddenly she saw the reflection of her husband, Tom Swift, in the glass of the floor-to-ceiling window.

Mr. Swift, dressed in pajamas, ca out of the bathroom with a newspaper in his hand, looking surprised at his wife, Mrs. Andrea.

Mrs. Andrea turned around with dissatisfaction and scolded, "Tom, you scared ."

Mr. Swift shrugged his shoulders, sat on the bed, pulled the blanket over his legs, and frowned at his wife, "So, the reason Taylor couldn’t go to Miami to watch Link’s match last ti was also your arrangent?"

"I did it for her own good," said Mrs. Andrea calmly. "If the two of them truly love each other, what’s a little difficulty that I create for them? If they can’t get through even this little difficulty and test, they won’t have a good ending, even if they’re together. Am I wrong?"

Mr. Swift thought for a mont, adjusted his glasses, and sighed, "Taylor is still young. Young people need to go through a few relationships to mature. There’s no need for you to intervene."

"I know, but Link is a dangerous person. His father was a smuggler, a gang mber, killed on the street five years ago with an unclear cause of death. Link himself has been arrested and put in jail twice, and just over two months ago, he almost got killed on the street. Are you comfortable with soone like that dating your daughter?"

Mr. Swift listened and frowned deeply, "He certainly doesn’t seem like a good partner. Anne, have you told Taylor about this? Our daughter is a smart girl. She knows what’s good and bad. Blocking her like this will only make her closer to Link."

"I’ve said so. She and Link drifted apart after leaving Miami. Recently, she probably got fascinated again by seeing Link’s cool performance in the ring. She’s a headstrong girl, and my advice doesn’t work on her," Mrs. Andrea said, covering her forehead with her hand in exasperation.

Mr. Swift let out a light sigh, put his arm around his wife’s shoulder, and said, "Anne, you’ve worked hard. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that just now."

Mrs. Andrea shook her head slightly, then suddenly said, "Dear, I thought I heard you say your back was sore a few days ago. If Emily can’t adjust the schedule, maybe you should start pretending you’re sick tomorrow?"

"What?"

Mr. Swift was stunned for a mont, adjusted his glasses, and said helplessly, "Anne, is that really necessary?"

"Of course, it’s necessary! Taylor absolutely cannot go to Havana. If she goes, their feelings are sure to intensify, and their relationship will get closer. If we want to separate them later, it will be even more difficult. So dear Tom, for our daughter, it’s ti you made so sacrifices," Mrs. Andrea said, looking at her husband and pointing at his waist.

Mr. Swift scratched his thinning hair, deeply conflicted within. He saw himself as a kind father, a good dad, and now his wife wanted him to join her in wrongdoing by sabotaging their daughter’s love life, turning him into a bad dad?

He did not want to see such a thing happen to himself.

But with his wife ’lurking’ beside him, how could he explain if he did not agree?

His wife had sacrificed so much for the family; perhaps he should indeed make so sacrifice.

But what about Taylor?