Ok guys, this is what happened at the kickboxing tournament. I stepped into the ring, and saw my opponent. A red belt called Jacob Masters. He looked my size, height, weight, and age. Good. Now, remember, I don't have a belt yet, and I am grading tommoroowwow. Anyways, we went to our corners and the bell finally rang. At the first round, I could NOT bring up the courage to hurt this guy. But then at the second round, I loaded down. I started hooking him into the hood, jabbing between the eyes, and kicking the ribs. After another 10 minutes of me chasing him around the ring, the match ended. I won the match!!!!????!!!???!!??!? And then, the second battle against a brown belt called Jamie Adams. The bell rang, and I attacked him. At the last few seconds of the round, he hit my with his strongest punch. He pulled back his hand, and, like a flash, got me between the eyes. My nose started pumping blood, and blood started to run down my face. I then decided something. To try my absolute best. To try and destroy him. The brown belt, Jamie Adams. When the bell rang for round two, I finally brought about the best I could muster. When he saw my eyes, his courage faded away. His last bits of hope, thrown in the river. I pouded away at the head and eck area, landing many punches and kicks. At last, Pat Rockett and Jean Jones had made the decision. I, was the winner.