NOBODY asked or invited me to spar at the Outlaw Gym in Hollywood, but then nobody had to. You just felt it, the obligation to step through the ropes and uphold that exalted tradition within the culture of the sport known as “paying your dues.” 

It was a dynamic, an irresistible pull, prompting me to ask Freddie Roach one morning as I was leaving the gym if I could spar sometime. 

I asked the question while every particle of logic I possessed was screaming at me not to. Logic, though, had nothing to do with this.