What Happens In Vegas, Floyd Mayweather

by Kris Pitcher

In life, you have unique opportunities. You don't always want to take them...yesterday was one example of that. In Vegas, it's hot. Hot hot. Not just kinda hot. It's the kind of hot that melts the palms of your hands if you touch your steering wheel hot. It'll melt the chapstick right off your lips.

But yesterday afternoon we received a personal invitation from one of Jacques' clients to go to Floyd Mayweather's gym to see him workout. "Oh, there's no AC in the gym, boxers like it hot." she warned.

My tired, depleted, water rationed self was hesitant to go. My curious, spontanious, curly self wanted to see this. We all jumped in the HOT car and made our way to the Mayweather Boxing Gym.

"Oooh, you got good muscles!" greeted the little girl in the lobby as I came in. Smiling I thanked her

and asked to see her muscles. She. Was. DARLING. Just saying. We all trekked through the entry way, housing a Ms. Pacman machine, through the couch strewn "lobby" which had a few vending machines and a handful of cardio pieces through a door which read: No food or drink in the gym. By passing through these doors you agree to be filmed by HBO...

And we were in. Two huge rings, bags - beautiful bags - hanging from the ceiling, chairs for spectators. The gym was packed. All the while Natasha, Jacques' client, was telling us who was who. So and so does his wraps, this man trains his speed work...and so on.

Jacques and Jesse

If it takes a village to get a competitor to the stage, it takes a small nation to get a champion boxer in the ring. Watching Floyd was inspiring, overwhelming, amazing, and exhausting. The energy in the gym was contagious.

To see him hit the speed bag...unreal. "There's no way he can see that," Jacques leaned over to tell me. "it's all instinct." He worked different drills and components of his training. This. Man. Can. Jump. Rope.

He can jump rope like crazy. Cameras rolled the entire time. The crowd shouted, chanted, things. There were little kids practicing there skills in other parts of the gym. To them this was an every day occurrence.

There were fancy ladies with fancier handbags. There were onlookers of all sorts. Then there was Team Pitcher. Jesse, Jacques, and I all in our shirts, Brenda was with us and Natasha introducing us as her coaches.

When Floyd was finished with his workout, he went in to his green screen room for interviews, came out through the lobby and shook a few hands. It was at that point when Natasha took the opportunity to introduce him to Jacques and myself. I had been slumped on the couch where I had eaten a meal with my feet up on the cooler.

I jumped to my feet as I saw them coming and plunged my hand out for the introduction. "Damn!" he said. "Damn!" it came again. "Damn!" A one-two-three...he was looking at my arms shaking my hand.

Then Floyd was swept outside with his entourage for his departure. A visual social candy store of all things unfamiliar. Believe you are a champion, surround yourself with greatness, keep important people close to you, work harder than anyone else is willing to, get into the ring and live your life.

Take opportunities when they come, get off your couch and off your butt. Don't be inconvenienced or intimidated, be inspired. And always recognize great arms, damn!   

Entourage...