The Soul Of A Butterfly Read Online Free Page B

began recognizing that I had a talent, but to the world outside of Louisville, Kentucky, I was still unknown. Before I could change that, there were two more obstacles that I had to overcome. The first was Corky Baker.
     

    THE FIRST TIME I saw Corky Baker he was holding one of the football players from my school’s team upside down, shaking all the money from his pockets. Corky was short, stocky, and bowlegged; had big muscles and a mean stare; and was older than me. Corky beat up everybody and terrorized the whole neighborhood, including me. He was as mean as he was strong, and had a reputation for knocking out grown men. Corky made money betting on how high he could lift the ends of automobiles.
    I always walked around Mr. Martin’s Gym and my school confident and proud, except when I heard Corky was on the streets.
    Like everybody else, I had to find another way around Corky’s block, unless I wanted to pay the toll he charged for the privilege of walking past him. Corky was the undisputed “King of the Streets.” In almost every run-in I had with him, I lost. It was really starting to shake me up. Even with all my training and my boxing skills, I knew I would never go far in boxing unless I stopped dodging Corky Baker. He held the crown that would make me feel most confident as a fighter. I thought that if I could whup Corky, I could whup the whole world.
    I started talking about how I would whup Corky if I got him in the ring. When Corky found out what I was going around saying, he came looking for me. He said that when he got his hands on me, he was going to tear me apart. My friends Willy and Ronnie and some other neighborhood kids were there when I confronted him. Corky wanted to fight me right then and there, but I knew it would be suicide to fight him in the streets without any rules or regulations and no referee.
    So I challenged Corky to a boxing match at Columbia Gym on “Tomorrow’s Champions.” Corky laughed and said that boxing was for sissies, that it wasn’t real fighting. But when everybody started laughing at him and calling him a coward, Corky quickly changed his mind and accepted.
     
    the
    SHOWDOWN
     
    WHEN THE DAY of the fight arrived I was scared to death, but I had my father and my brother with me. All my friends from the neighborhood and classmates from Central High were there. It was time for the showdown. Corky and I were about to fight three rounds for the title that would mean the most to me. Whoever won this fight would be the “King of the Street.” This wasn’t about a financial victory, it was more important than money. I couldn’t see myself as a real champion until I stood up to Corky. Now the moment was here, and as I stood in my corner of the ring. I hoped that Corky wouldn’t notice that my knees were shaking.
    When the bell rang for the first round, I came out moving, throwing jabs, then tried to stay out of his reach.
    Corky came out swinging. He was throwing big hard punches that weren’t landing. I kept moving, because if Corky hit me, he would have knocked me out. But Corky was quickly becoming tired.
    When the bell rang for the second round, Corky came out chasing me, but he couldn’t catch me. I was ducking his punches, and I was faster and smarter than he was.
    Before the second round was over he said, “This ain’t fair” and ran out of the ring and left the gym. I had won the respect of my peers and the title. I had blackened his eye and bloodied his nose. More important, I had faced my fear and gained the self-respect and self-confidence I needed to continue my boxing career.
     

    THE VICTORY
    and
    THE LESSON
    I WAS NOW the King of the Street. All my friends and kids from the neighborhood were jumping up and down, shouting,
    “We’re free, we’re free, long live the King, we’re free!”
    That’s when I realized that I didn’t just fight Corky for myself; I fought him for the entire neighborhood. And it was a good feeling. After I beat Corky, he