Between them, they had a collection of Fight magazines second to none, plus a scrapbook filled with torn tickets to every boxing match they had ever attended, and some clippings of their own.
The two boys continued to run together along the East River Drive. But even when joking with each other, they both sensed a wall rising between them.
They fooled around with a few jabs at the air, slapped skin, and then took off, running lightly along the dirty East River’s edge.
“I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging, bro. But I wanna win, fair and square.”
Felix became the champ and Tony the challenger.
He came in fast, head low, half-hunched toward his right shoulder, and lashed out with a straight left