God in the Octagon

Round 8

What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.-Ecclesiastes 1:9

December 25, 18 years later

There was a knock on the door. I got up from my chair and turned off the t.v, the UFC was hyping up UFC 300 to crown a new women's bantamweight championship. The last champ was had been caught using steroids for the second time and was forced to relinquish her belt and the fight for the new champion looked promising. I walked up to the door and opened the door and Jon was there for dinner. We had made it a tradition that he would come to my house for dinner while he was in university. He was getting his degree as a PSW and was getting great marks, just like he had in high school and middle school. I was proud of him because of I knew he was so smart and good at what he did.

"Hey Jon, how's school going?" I asked.

"Hey Dad, I'm great!! Can I come in?" he asked, in his funny sarcastic little way.

I let him in and hung up his coat for him.

"Your mom has made a delicious turkey dinner." I said with a smile on my face.

"Did she make her mashed potatoes? And gravy?" Those were always his favourite foods growing up and was reduced to a child like state every time he know's he's gonna be having his mom's cooking.

Jenny came out of the kitchen with a dirty apron on and smiling. "You know I made them, ya big goof. Just the way you like them, creme and just the right amount of meaty flavouring in the gravy." Jon smiled but then began to frown as if he had just been told something horrible. "By the way dad, I'm sorry to hear that Firas passed away."
It was true. A year ago Firas had been diagnosed with CTE, Chronic traumatic encephalopathy which is a progressive degenerative disease found in people who have had a severe blow or repeated blows to the head. Then, six months ago, Firas had passed away due to his disease, peacefully in his sleep.

"Thanks Jon. He was a good friend." I said, a tear nearing slipping out of my eye. We sat down for dinner, asked the blessing, and dugg in.

"So how's U of A?" Jenny asked. "I hear your football team won provincial championships again."

"Ya, two years in a row." Jon said, mouth full of potatoes.

"Why didn't you join this year?" Jon was a very well built boy, 6 foot five, 205 pound of mostly muscle, and very athletic. He had my strong jaw and his mother's powerful legs.

"Well I tried out." Jon set down his cutlery.

"Did you make it?"Jenny asked, shocked her son hadn't kept her up to date on every detail of his life.

"Well, ya, but I couldn't make it to all the games so I let someone else take my place." You could tell something was up the way Jon was now fidgeting in his seat, like he was five years old again.

"Why couldn't you make it?" I asked, setting down my knife and fork and looking directly at him. "Too much school work?"

"That," Jon replied not wanting to look me in the eyes "and I've started up in MMA."

The room got very silent. Jenny set down her knife and fork.

"After I specifically told you that until you couldn't unless you got your black belt in literally any practical martial art?" I said, sternly.

"Dad, I know what you said, but Mark, my trainer, says that you don't need a belt to go into MMA." Jon said, clearly getting frustrated.

"You can, but you're going to get your butt handed to you 99% of time." I said, raising my voice slightly.

"You know what, I knew you were going to react this way!" Jon exclaimed. "I try to make you proud! I got the best marks in school, I went to university, and now I'm doing your sport and trying to make you proud, and you reject me!! I knew this would happen!"

Jon then stood up and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. I looked at Jenny who gave me a look that said "go after him you idiot!!" By the time I got outside, it was already too late. All I saw were the headlights of Jon's car growing dimmer and dimmer as he drve off into the night.

That night I did something that I knew I would regret. I pulled that bottle out from under the bed, that bottle that I had kept there for a long time, but never opened. I broke it's seal and drank that which I had sworn I would never touch again. And with that sip, I broke my life once again, and began the cycle anew.