It had been three years since the great tournament. The champion, Habaz “Anger Management” Valentine had retired undefeated since claiming the title. Rumour had it that he finally committed to attending anger management sessions and AA meetings. A true shock to the world. Some no name had taken his place as champion. Vinnie Balboa had continued to train religiously, but had not set foot in the ring since his “Behind-closed-doors” victory against the angry little man. He had been living with nature in the forest of his old Master, The Cat Sage. His solitude helped ground him after the way things had turned out with at the fabled tournament. The tournament had taken those closest to him. His reclusiveness was but an escape he now recognised. An escape he no longer needed.
He was sitting blissfully by a lake, where he had once been given his first demonstration of Feline Mode. Animals were drinking and lazing around. Birds were chirping. There was peace and tranquillity. A thing he had only learned to appreciate in recent times.
A newspaper was carried by the wind from Vinnies side and swallowed by the many trees. On its first page was a report of two gruesome murders that were apparently linked to a single serial killer. A Former fight promoter and former prison inmate had been found violently beaten and killed in a Portuguese Brothel. The word “rich” and “beast” were etched into their respective foreheads and cheeseburger patties were found upon their eyes. The police had no leads.
Vinnie arose from the ground and walked forward. He walked for days without break, and eventually reached the clearing, civilisation. He had reached the end of the old Cat Sage’s forest and arrived at a farming colony. The great sign read, “Welcome to the Hills Shire”.
It was time to live out the rest of his life.
~
7 Years had now passed since the events of Shabz famous tournament – remembered this day as “The Tournament of the Best”. Since then, the life of Vinnie Balboa was forever changed. His life had covered all the bases. Humiliating defeats. Unbending Rage. A Weeping Ex-wife. Victory. Pain. Losses. Joy. Friends and Foes.
He stood at the broken remnants of the old ring where the fights of yesterday had now become pages in a history book. A small four year old boy at his side.
It now served as the gravesite of those who were dearest to him. He dug a shallow hole into the earth, and buried a can of cat food and a cheeseburger.
“We will meet again one day…but not yet. Not yet…” He whispered with a bittersweet tone in his voice, thankful for crossing paths with those who had re-directed his path in life.
“Santiago Saralax Balboa.”, said Vinnie, turning to the little boy, “You were named after the two greatest people I ever met, both of whom fought very bravely here in the past.” The boy analysed the broken remains of his surroundings in awe, a level of understanding far exceeding his age glowed from his eyes.
Vinnie Balboa may never have officially been champion. He may never be remembered in the history books for his accomplishments. But the memories he carried with him were all he ever needed to remain content. His life accomplishments were his wealth. He smiled and slowly walked away into the sunset with his son, S.S. Balboa, skipping cheerfully by his side.