Post by boltonboys on Nov 20, 2024 10:29:06 GMT
Johnny Fresno, the European Lightweight Champion , sits at an outdoor café table. He’s clad in a black leather jacket and jeans, his championship belt resting on the chair beside him. Leaves swirl in the breeze as he stirs his tea, staring out over the cobbled street.
Johnny Fresno:
Out For The Count. November 24th. An all-star team, they say. International stars, they say. And I look at the roster—Bulldog Spirit, Gavin Owens, Tiger Kid, Half-Nelson McGrath—and I think, "What a group to go to war with."
But this isn’t just a match. This is a battle for pride. Jack Sherry—Worlds Lightweight Champion, self-proclaimed captain of the so-called "Dream Team." I’ll admit, Sherry’s got skills, and his team? Arthur T. Turtle, George Thompson, Eamonn Keane, Barry Bridges—they’re no slouches. But "dream team"? Nah. Dreams fade. Reality hits harder.
Fresno leans forward, his eyes narrowing.
Johnny Fresno:
Here’s the reality. Our team isn’t built on hype; it’s built on grit. Bulldog Spirit—pound for pound, one of the toughest brawlers out there. Gavin Owens—the reigning British Heavyweight Champion, and a man who knows what it means to carry a division. Tiger Kid, Half-Nelson McGrath—they bring speed, power, and precision. And me? I’m the glue that holds it all together.
He pauses, lifting his cup and taking a slow sip before setting it down.
Johnny Fresno:
See, Sherry, I respect what you’ve done. I know what it’s like to carry a title on your back. But I’ve seen you crumble under pressure, and when that bell rings, it’s not about the gold you hold—it’s about the fight you bring.
You think your "Dream Team" is ready for this? Think again. George Thompson might be Commonwealth Champion, but I’ve faced heavyweights before and dropped them with speed they couldn’t even see coming. Bridges? Keane? Turtle? They’ll be swimming upstream by the time we’re through.
Fresno stands, slinging his belt over his shoulder as the café buzzes with quiet chatter.
Johnny Fresno:
November 24th, we step into that ring not as individuals, but as a force. Out For The Count isn’t just another show. It’s a reckoning. Sherry, your "Dream Team" better wake up—because reality is coming, and it’s got my name written all over it.
He walks down the cobbled.
Johnny Fresno:
Out For The Count. November 24th. An all-star team, they say. International stars, they say. And I look at the roster—Bulldog Spirit, Gavin Owens, Tiger Kid, Half-Nelson McGrath—and I think, "What a group to go to war with."
But this isn’t just a match. This is a battle for pride. Jack Sherry—Worlds Lightweight Champion, self-proclaimed captain of the so-called "Dream Team." I’ll admit, Sherry’s got skills, and his team? Arthur T. Turtle, George Thompson, Eamonn Keane, Barry Bridges—they’re no slouches. But "dream team"? Nah. Dreams fade. Reality hits harder.
Fresno leans forward, his eyes narrowing.
Johnny Fresno:
Here’s the reality. Our team isn’t built on hype; it’s built on grit. Bulldog Spirit—pound for pound, one of the toughest brawlers out there. Gavin Owens—the reigning British Heavyweight Champion, and a man who knows what it means to carry a division. Tiger Kid, Half-Nelson McGrath—they bring speed, power, and precision. And me? I’m the glue that holds it all together.
He pauses, lifting his cup and taking a slow sip before setting it down.
Johnny Fresno:
See, Sherry, I respect what you’ve done. I know what it’s like to carry a title on your back. But I’ve seen you crumble under pressure, and when that bell rings, it’s not about the gold you hold—it’s about the fight you bring.
You think your "Dream Team" is ready for this? Think again. George Thompson might be Commonwealth Champion, but I’ve faced heavyweights before and dropped them with speed they couldn’t even see coming. Bridges? Keane? Turtle? They’ll be swimming upstream by the time we’re through.
Fresno stands, slinging his belt over his shoulder as the café buzzes with quiet chatter.
Johnny Fresno:
November 24th, we step into that ring not as individuals, but as a force. Out For The Count isn’t just another show. It’s a reckoning. Sherry, your "Dream Team" better wake up—because reality is coming, and it’s got my name written all over it.
He walks down the cobbled.