The Man Who Couldn't Lose

THUD! With a swift left hook, William’s hopes and dreams came crashing down as his mind, body and soul all hit the canvas in unison. There was no point in getting up: he had lost. Three years of training at England’s finest gym, six months of intense fitness work and, most of all, a lifetime’s ambition all came to what, in the heat of the moment, felt like absolutely nothing.

William Alexander hated losing. And yet the London-based mixed martial arts fighter had done just that in the very first round of the amateur world championships. He’d flown all the way to Las Vegas to be humiliated. Not only was it the first round of the tournament, he hadn’t even lasted one round of his opening fight – against a middleweight 3 kilograms lighter and 26 places lower in the world rankings.

What an utter waste. What would William tell his family; what would he tell his friends? What would his coach say after paying $800 just to come to America, sit in his fighter’s corner and watch him get knocked out cold despite being odds-on favourite.

Dejection and frustration quickly turned into dismay and despair. William wasn’t badly hurt – he didn’t care about the physical pain. The thought of being a loser, however, and a failure – that cut deeper than any punch ever could.

                                                                                                ***

Later that night, William decided to forget his troubles Vegas style.

Three cocktails and a grilled steak into his sorrow-drowning session, it wasn’t long before he found himself at the roulette table, taking several intermittent trips to the slot machines.

Loss, loss, loss, loss. Wasn’t this supposed to make William feel better?

Time to back someone who’ll never let me down, he thought, placing a large wager on the fight dominating the professional mixed martial arts world that week. His favourite fighter was in action and William was backing her to win via knockout in the fifth round. She was undefeated heading into the big-money bout and William sensed she would succeed where her biggest fan had fallen miserably short.

“It’s all over!” roared the American commentator. William’s idol had made it to the fifth round… and lost. Typical. The rotten luck continued. Did he know anything about a sport he had followed all his life? Maybe he wasn’t destined for this industry. Maybe he wasn’t destined to be a winner. Maybe none of this was worth it.

“If you had one wish, what would it be?” a drunken William asked a hotel barman several beers later.

“I’d wanna be immortal, dude,” he replied with a cool belying someone who’d already thrown three ‘ungracious’ customers out of his bar that night.

“Immortal!?” William spat. “Why would you want to live forever?”

“Alright,” the barman’s expression turned solemn. “What would you want?”

“Hey, I welcome the end. I don’t mind dying… as long as I die a winner,” William blurted out indignantly. “I’d wish I could never lose.”

 

                                                                                                ***

 

William’s next recollection was nothing but pitch-black surroundings. The young man had descended into darkness. Was he still awake? Was he still alive? Or was it all over? Had he finally given in; lost his final battle?

He tried to look left, then right. There was nothing. Only darkness. But he was still able to think, look and, to an extent, feel things around him. Was this somewhere in between, another dimension, another world?

Moments of silence and bewilderment followed. Until William heard a deep voice in the distance. "Come with me," it said. "We're going on a journey.”

A cloaked figure that looked an awful lot like his coach approached a dazed William.

"Come, now. We're going to see your wish come true," the ghost-like being explained in riddle-like fashion.

William grasped the figure's outstretched hand and felt a jolt, as if the two had begun to fly. Out of the darkness and into the light, whole lands flashed past as the duo sped through a bright blue sky. For a second, William wished this journey could last forever: no more losing, no more heartache, no need to push one's self to the limit only to fear failure is just around the corner. Forever turned into but a few moments, however, as the pace of the pair's flight began to drop. Within a second, they had landed in a desolate stretch of desert. There were no signs of life for the nearest 100 miles.

"Where are we?" William wondered, hesitant yet intrigued.

"Welcome to a world where nobody loses," the cloaked being announced. "This is where your hotel - and the casino you sat in tonight - would normally be."

"Why has it disappeared?"

"Everybody wins. If everybody wins, how can a casino make money? No casinos, no Las Vegas."

"All the better," William snorted. "All they do is steal people's money."

The ghost-like figure chuckled. "Come," he said expressionlessly, this time grabbing William's hand without waiting. They were off again.

The two didn't go far. They flew across the United States to where William's favourite fighter had been in action earlier that night. Two male challengers this time filled the arena and, from a distance, William heard chorus upon chorus of aggressive booing, while food & drink was being thrown angrily at the fighters. When William got closer, he saw why the crowd were so distraught.

The two competitors stood motionless, monstrously out of shape and not even daring to move a muscle. Once the final bell rang, the two overweight gentlemen jumped for joy and began celebrating. They had both won. Neither had landed a single punch but were declared world champions. Supporters who paid good money to watch the debacle were left fuming.

"See what has become of your beloved sport without the prospect of losing," the cloaked being declared, pointing at the unhappy crowd.

"This is not real, this is all a trick. Why should I care about any of this?" William answered, clearly remaining unconvinced.

“The disappointment of losing is sometimes the most powerful motivational tool our world has to offer. Some of humanity's greatest works of art & literature... some of history's most poignant moments... have all been inspired by loss. Without the hurt of loss, where would be the joy of winning?”

SWISH. William barely felt their next trip but knew his new acquaintance had taken him back to the normal world. He didn't know how - but he could feel it. In front of the young fighter appeared his conqueror at the World Championships. With him stood an overjoyed mother and father.

"Against all the odds, you did it. We’re so proud!" smiled the dad, embracing his son. The cloaked ghost then clicked his fingers. He and William were back in the 'other' world and the same family stood. This time, there was no joy - no emotion of any sort, in fact. The fighter had won the same fight yet so had his opponent. If anything, the scene could only be described as glum; boring.

William glared in frustration. "I didn't say I wanted no one to lose. I said I wish I couldn’t lose! What have I worked so hard for all my life, what have I achieved and what's the point of anything if I blow it all in under three minutes? You don't know what it feels like to lose the biggest fight of your career when you’re someone who has to win. What meaning is there to life if your biggest wish is to succeed and it’s the one thing you can’t do…”

He paused briefly before wrapping up his monologue: “Why can't I just be world champion?”

"Very well. My work here is done." Within a split second, William was back in the darkness. A new ghost-like figure appeared, this one resembling his mother, with tiny lockets of brown hair showing outside of the cloak's hood.

"I am Mikka. Orlando sent for me. Come," she said, hand outstretched.

 

***

 

If William had been taken aback by the mileage of his previous journey, he was hardly prepared for what came next. Mikka, if that really was her name, accompanied the young fighter to what seemed like all four corners of the Earth. Their first stop was South Africa.

"Your wish has been granted. Go forth knowing you can never lose again."

Suddenly, William found himself in an arena being watched by hundreds of eager fans, up against a towering opponent with a big reach. He leaned out with a quick jab intended to catch his rival off guard - but it did more than that. It knocked him out instantly.

Roars greeted William's killer blow and he was crowned African Open champion. He was back in Las Vegas next, courtesy of Mikka, where he collected another gold medal - at the World Championships. Soon, he had a clean sweep, adding Europe and Asia to his list, and the offer of a professional contract. Everything he touched turned to gold; he would win every fight, single-handedly bankrupt casinos - and even beat champions of other sports at their own game with ease. Quickly, fame and fortune followed.

But something was missing.

In this strange new world, whenever a big fight came up, William lost the will to train. He knew he would win – so why go through the effort of actually trying?

In the stands, meanwhile, William hardly attracted the biggest of followings. No one wanted to watch someone triumph within seconds - yet millions would tune in when he wasn’t involved.

He could have anything he wanted… that wasn't worth having. He sorely missed the adventure, the battle, the drive. The blood, the sweat, the tears.

Before he knew it, the young fighter was surrounded by nothing but darkness again, feeling far lonelier and emptier than ever before.­

"Mikka, take me back, please!" William pleaded.

The spirit appeared at once. "We have one more stop to make.”

William didn’t find any comfort until Mikka took him as far away from this ‘other’ world as possible. After a lengthy flight, they returned home and playing on several big screens in front of them was William’s favourite fighter. She was addressing a packed auditorium, speaking with, at first frustration… then a growing passion.

“Even though I fight to win, I know winning isn't everything,” she began. “I know people who have never won a fight, writers who have never been published, artists who have never sold a painting. They are all wonderful people – because they simply try to be the best they can be. I lost one fight but, as long as I don't give up, I’ll never truly lose.”

***

When William next woke up, he wasn't surrounded by darkness anymore. He was back in his hotel room - and pretty hungover. He scouted for clues as to where he had really been that night and saw a group of empty beer bottles scattered across the floor, some named 'Orlando,' others branded 'Mikka.'

Was it all just a dream? He thought to himself, bitterly disappointed. He battled his awful post-alcohol breath to brush his teeth and wondered down to the casino, finding a misplaced chip on the floor. Was his luck beginning to turn? He bet the chip on a random number and watched on as the croupier informed him he hadn’t won. Perhaps not.

A strange feeling overcame him this time, however. He had lost yet again - but it didn’t matter. If anything, this over-competitive, goal-obsessed sore loser was happy in defeat. Delighted, even.

In that very moment, William wanted nothing more than to rejoin his coach and hit the gym (once his hangover had passed). He was ready to go again.

He exited the hotel for some fresh air and a walk through the dry Vegas heat.

On his way, William passed a giant billboard advertising the 'Mikka' beer. "Your journey is complete," the slogan read.