MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

"Okay, you got this," Whittier told him in a strong but steady voice.

He handed Damon a water bottle, watching him take a long sip. "Stick to the plan you devised. Keep your head in the game."

Damon wiped his sweaty forehead and nodded.

It was the big day, and there was a lot of anxiety in the changing room.

He and Kevin had just completed the final weigh-in, and now, the only thing left was to step into the cage.

The last week was crazy busy with getting ready for the fight that it seemed like it went on for a month.

But it was also one of the most productive weeks of Damon's stay here in TSF.

Instead of overcomplicating things with new techniques or moves, they had streamlined the training.

They worked on improving what Damon already knew by making his Muay Thai skills better, his defense stronger, and reinforcing his mental game.

Whittier had made the call early on. "No more experimenting. Let's perfect what you're already good at."

Damon had agreed wholeheartedly. He wasn't here to show off flashy, unfamiliar moves. He was here to win.

Whittier admired Damon's adaptability.

Both Damon and Ivan were fighters who didn't just follow orders, they actively contributed to the strategy, making suggestions, asking questions, and refining their approach.

Coaching them didn't feel like coaching a brick wall; they were engaged, constantly thinking, constantly improving.

Whittier had learned to trust Damon's instincts. This was his fight, after all.

Damon knew what worked for him, and Whittier respected that.

There was a balance between coach and fighter that they had cultivated, and it was paying off.

"Remember," Whittier said, locking eyes with Damon, "this is your fight. Trust yourself. Trust your skills. You've got the tools to take him down, just like we've planned."

Damon relaxed as he took in the words and rolled his shoulders.

He could feel how heavy the weight of the fight was, but he was ready to carry it.

As the knock echoed through the locker room, Damon took a deep breath and nodded. "Thanks, Coach."

Whittier gave him a firm pat on the back. "Go show them what you've got."

Damon nodded once more, shaking out his arms and bouncing lightly on his feet.

He felt the adrenaline building with every breath.

He pushed open the door, and the energy hit him.

The familiar thrum of his entrance music filled the training facility, though quieter than what it would be in a full arena.

His team of coaches followed closely behind, a tight-knit group ready to back him up in every way.

As Damon stepped into the room, the facility had a different feel today.

The other fighters, coaches, and staff lined the edges of the space, watching intently.

He made his way to the cage, his body loose but his mind locked in.

Damon approached the official standing by the side of the cage.

The man quickly checked his gloves, ensuring they were secured tight.

Damon lifted his arms as the official applied a thin layer of Vaseline to his face, focusing on his forehead and cheeks.

Damon nodded, bouncing on his toes, staying loose.

He looked past Kevin's cage every once in a while. Kevin was already there, walking back and forth and stretching his shoulders.

Kevin was calm, focused, but Damon could see a bit of tension in his stance, like he was holding something back.

Whittier gave Damon a final pat on the back. "Stay sharp. Stick to the plan."

Damon didn't say anything, but his eyes were fixed ahead of him.

He took one last deep breath before stepping into the cage, the door closing behind him with a solid click.

As he faced Kevin from across the cage, the two exchanged glances.

No words, just a quick read of the other's intent.

This was it.

Hank Binn stepped forward, his voice calm but authoritative as he called Damon and Kevin to the center of the cage.

"Alright, fighters, listen up," Hank began, his tone steady. "We went over the rules in the back. Protect yourselves at all times, follow my instructions, and if I tell you to stop, stop immediately. No strikes to the back of the head, no knees to a grounded opponent, and watch the low blows. If you want to touch gloves, do it now. Good luck to you both."

Both Damon and Kevin didn't hesitate, extending their gloves and touching with mutual respect.

There was no bad blood here, no need for unnecessary drama.

Just two fighters prepared to give it their all.
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Hank gave them a nod and stepped back. "Alright, back to your corners. Let's keep it clean."

The two fighters moved back to their corners, ready for the moment the fight would begin.

There was no animosity, but that didn't mean either of them was holding back.

Hank Binn glanced between the two fighters, giving each a final look to make sure they were ready.

"Are you ready? Are you ready? Let's go!"

With that, the bell rang, and the fight was officially underway.

Damon and Kevin moved forward, circling each other cautiously, both aware of what was at stake.

This wasn't just another fight.

It was a defining moment, one that could change their careers forever.

You lose you go home.

They had touched gloves in respect, but now it was all business.

Both fighters had everything to prove.

Damion was the first one to make a move. Without hesitation, he fired a strong leg kick that hit Kevin in the shin and sent shockwaves through his body.

Kevin choked the kick, but he still scowled a little because Damon's power was showing right at the start.

Everyone watching expected Damon to keep chopping away at the legs, but he had other plans.

Instead of continuing the leg kicks, Damon followed up with an overhand right.

It came fast and hard, aiming right for Kevin's head.

Kevin barely managed to slip the punch, but it was clear, Damon wasn't holding anything back.

He was ready to bring the fight.