achieved. Then we set time frames so we can check the results. So, for example, if you want to increase your speed, we’ll come up with a plan to achieve that. I’ll work with you on visualizing that goal every day so that your brain gets used to being in that state of mind.”
“How does this visualizing work?” Trent asked, curious despite still being pissed for even having to talk to this guy.
“I’ll give you guidelines and tapes to help you with the process. We’ll work on making sure that during the visualizations, you feel the moment with your senses. For example, if you’re thinking about walking into the ring, you should hear the crowd in your head, feel the warmth of the lights, smell the leather of your gloves, and feel your feet hitting the ground with each step.”
Trent shook his head, not falling for it one bit. “How’s that supposed to make me a better fighter?”
“If you can control your mind, your body will follow. Whatever you set your mind to do, your body can’t help but do it too. It’s like the soldier following the general.”
“Just give it a shot,” Ramirez said, nodding to everything Bill was saying. “You got nothing to lose, man. In case you haven’t noticed, your boxing’s all over the place right now. You gotta straighten this shit out.”
Trent had been thinking the same thing, but he hadn’t gone so far as to consider seeing a shrink. That sounded extreme.
“Look, you don’t have to make a decision today,” Bill said, taking out a couple of business cards from his folder and handing them to Trent and Ramirez. “Take your time, think it over and let me know how you decide in a few days.”
Trent looked at the plain white card with Bill’s name and phone number etched in black. No fuss, just the basic info.
“If it makes a difference, you won’t be lying on my leather couch talking about your childhood,” Bill said, smiling. “I’d come to the gym every day and work with you on perfecting your mind and body in your own environment, where you feel comfortable. My only goal is to get you ready for the next fight.”
That, at least, sounded promising. Trent still wasn’t about to sign up for therapy sessions or whatever they were supposed to be simply to please Ramirez though.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, starting to turn away.
“You better think about it real hard,” Ramirez said, getting his attention again. “You had no problem seeing that goddamn reporter who’s showing up day and night. The least you can do is let Bill help you out.”
Trent fixed him with narrowed eyes. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”
“Bullshit. She’s got everything to do with this. You can’t see the fucking fight in front of your face anymore, Trent. She’s got you so messed up, the rookies are looking better out there than you.”
Trent’s hands balled into fists. Bill zipped up his folder.
“Call me if you wanna talk,” he said, nodding at both of them, then turning to leave.
“Is your skull so thick that you can’t see when something good comes your way?” Ramirez addressed Trent.
The funny thing was, Trent had been thinking that something good had come his way, but that something wasn’t named Bill. It also didn’t have a cock, but a sweet-ass pussy that he wanted now more than ever, despite her unannounced visit earlier in the day, which had pissed him off more than he’d let on. That was beside the point now, however, and he had to deal with Ramirez who was getting on his last nerve.
“That something good is your guy who’s supposed to hold my hand until I get another win?”
Ramirez snorted disgusted. “Fine, do what the fuck you want, man. I can’t wait to see what you got up your sleeves to turn your training around.” He walked away without another word.
Trent threw back his head and exhaled loudly. Could this day get any worse?
Chapter 9
When Sam still didn’t hear from Trent two days later, she
“How does this visualizing work?” Trent asked, curious despite still being pissed for even having to talk to this guy.
“I’ll give you guidelines and tapes to help you with the process. We’ll work on making sure that during the visualizations, you feel the moment with your senses. For example, if you’re thinking about walking into the ring, you should hear the crowd in your head, feel the warmth of the lights, smell the leather of your gloves, and feel your feet hitting the ground with each step.”
Trent shook his head, not falling for it one bit. “How’s that supposed to make me a better fighter?”
“If you can control your mind, your body will follow. Whatever you set your mind to do, your body can’t help but do it too. It’s like the soldier following the general.”
“Just give it a shot,” Ramirez said, nodding to everything Bill was saying. “You got nothing to lose, man. In case you haven’t noticed, your boxing’s all over the place right now. You gotta straighten this shit out.”
Trent had been thinking the same thing, but he hadn’t gone so far as to consider seeing a shrink. That sounded extreme.
“Look, you don’t have to make a decision today,” Bill said, taking out a couple of business cards from his folder and handing them to Trent and Ramirez. “Take your time, think it over and let me know how you decide in a few days.”
Trent looked at the plain white card with Bill’s name and phone number etched in black. No fuss, just the basic info.
“If it makes a difference, you won’t be lying on my leather couch talking about your childhood,” Bill said, smiling. “I’d come to the gym every day and work with you on perfecting your mind and body in your own environment, where you feel comfortable. My only goal is to get you ready for the next fight.”
That, at least, sounded promising. Trent still wasn’t about to sign up for therapy sessions or whatever they were supposed to be simply to please Ramirez though.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, starting to turn away.
“You better think about it real hard,” Ramirez said, getting his attention again. “You had no problem seeing that goddamn reporter who’s showing up day and night. The least you can do is let Bill help you out.”
Trent fixed him with narrowed eyes. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”
“Bullshit. She’s got everything to do with this. You can’t see the fucking fight in front of your face anymore, Trent. She’s got you so messed up, the rookies are looking better out there than you.”
Trent’s hands balled into fists. Bill zipped up his folder.
“Call me if you wanna talk,” he said, nodding at both of them, then turning to leave.
“Is your skull so thick that you can’t see when something good comes your way?” Ramirez addressed Trent.
The funny thing was, Trent had been thinking that something good had come his way, but that something wasn’t named Bill. It also didn’t have a cock, but a sweet-ass pussy that he wanted now more than ever, despite her unannounced visit earlier in the day, which had pissed him off more than he’d let on. That was beside the point now, however, and he had to deal with Ramirez who was getting on his last nerve.
“That something good is your guy who’s supposed to hold my hand until I get another win?”
Ramirez snorted disgusted. “Fine, do what the fuck you want, man. I can’t wait to see what you got up your sleeves to turn your training around.” He walked away without another word.
Trent threw back his head and exhaled loudly. Could this day get any worse?
Chapter 9
When Sam still didn’t hear from Trent two days later, she
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