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It was my first fight, and I had a solid 24 hours worth of butterflies in my stomach. I had a mental image of the press area that resembled the floor of the stock exchange, and I’ve never been the type to shove to the front of a boiling crowd, slam my notebook on the canvas, wipe the blood spray from my eyes and start cataloguing punches. I’d spent maybe ten minutes thinking about how I was going to take notes, and it turned out I didn’t take any.
