Dad Sees Video of Boxing Coach Mocking His Son, Cancels Meeting and Bolts from Office – Story of the Day

"A skinny boy like you can never be a boxer!" Dad sees a disturbing video of a boxing coach mocking his son in the gym. He angrily gets up in the middle of an important meeting and bolts from his office.

Fabian's grueling day at work finally came to an end. He wearily pushed open the front door of his humble suburban home and entered. The aroma of lasagna and garlic bread wafted from the kitchen where his wife, Irene, was busy adding the finishing touches to the meal.

As Fabian hung his coat on the hook by the door, he couldn't help but smile at hearing Irene humming a soft tune. The soothing melody eased the tension on his shoulders, and moments like these made Fabian realize what truly mattered in life—his family.

Fabian had always been a loving husband and a dedicated father, striving to provide the best for his son, Matt.

"Matt...kiddo, I'm home!" Fabian called out, and his heart warmed as he headed toward the living room. The soft glow of the television illuminated the cozy space. And there, in front of the screen, was Matt, his 13-year-old son.

The boy was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, and his eyes fixed on a pair of boxing gloves displayed on the TV...

"What are you watching, champ?" Fabian gingerly patted Matt's shoulder as Matt looked up, smiling ear to ear.

"Dad, look at those boxing gloves! Aren't they cool?" he chirped, his voice filled with awe. "I wish I had a pair like those."

"Hmmm...yeah! They're amazing, buddy!" Fabian smiled as Matt was too engrossed in watching the pair of gloves that the TV host described from different angles.

The ruby red boxing gloves were magnificent, glowing under the bright lights shown in the advertisement. And Matt was yearning for them.

Fabian sat beside his son, his heart swelling with pride. He knew how much Matt loved boxing and how devout he was to the sport.

The boy had a natural talent and a fierce determination that was evident every time he laced up his own worn-out boxing gloves and practiced in the garage.

To make that a comfortable space for him, Fabian transformed the garage into a boxing ring, and he'd park the car outside so that Matt would have ample room to practice.

To every father, their child is a born winner, and Fabian treated Matt the same way. And now that he witnessed his son's longing for a new pair of boxing gloves, Fabian decided to go ahead and get them for him, keeping it as a sweet little surprise.

The following evening, Fabian returned home from work and approached Irene. "Honey, where's he?"

"Where else would he be right now?!" Irene smiled.

As Fabian then stepped into the dimly lit garage with a gift box in hand, a heartwarming sight greeted him.

A single bulb hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the area. Matt stood in the center of the garage, his T-shirt soaking wet with sweat. He wore a pair of faded blue boxing gloves, a stark contrast to the ones he had admired on TV.

Those worn-out gloves had seen countless hours of practice and were worn down with use, bearing the scars and wear and tear of a dedicated young boxer.

Just as Matt delivered a sharp punch to the sandbag, Fabian waved at him. "Hey, buddy, can you excuse Dad for a minute? There's something serious going on over here...and we need to talk. How could you do this?"

Matt's face twisted with surprise and shock. "Wha—What are you talking about? What did I do?"

"Come over here, right now!" Fabian beckoned.

Panting and puffing, Matt walked over to his dad and stood confused.

"Yeah? What happened, Dad? You look serious. Everything alright?"

"No...how can I be alright after seeing this?"

"Seeing what?"

"THIS!" Fabian tapped hard on the worn-out gloves Matt was wearing.

"It's time to get rid of them, champ! And it's time to put these on!!"

Matt's eyes bulged with joy when Fabian placed the gift box in his hands.

Matt quickly removed his old gloves and unwrapped the box. His eyes gushed with tears of joy at the sight of the brand-new boxing gloves he had wanted. And there was a little heartwarming note.

"Buddy, may these gloves always remind you of the strength and determination that lie within you. With love, Dad."

"Dad! Thank you so much... I love you!" Matt threw himself into Fabian's arms, and they both coiled into a heartwarming embrace.

The high-end gloves were quite expensive, but Fabian was ready to move mountains to see his son smile. This was nothing!

Matt happily put on the gloves and hurried to the boxing ring. "Dad, watch this! And this! Whoa...these gloves are amazing! And so comfortable!"

Fabian watched in awe as his son unleashed his passion by battering that old heavy sandbag. He marveled at Fabian's dedication and realized he needed a professional sanctuary to become a great boxer.

So that evening, Fabian decided to get Matt a membership in a local gym where they taught professional boxing.

Fabian took special permission off work the following evening and returned home early to take Matt to the gym.

On their drive to the wellness studio, Fabian noticed just how excited and happy Matt was. The boy was fidgeting with his gym bag to make sure he'd carried everything he needed for his first day of practice.

"You're so excited, buddy, aren't you?" Fabian briskly looked at his son as he navigated the wheel.

"Of course I am, Dad!" Matt exclaimed. "I haven't been in a real boxing ring. Can't wait to be there...with the other boxers training for the upcoming tournament."

"Heard there is an under-15 championship too!" Fabian smiled, igniting a spark in Matt's eyes. "It's not too late to start practicing, champ. You never know...you might lift the trophy on your very first tournament as long. So go for it, and work hard for it!"

Matt was generally shy. But after seeing his dad's enthusiasm, Matt beamed with confidence.

"I'll give it my heart and soul...and lift that trophy...and make you proud, Dad!" he thought.

Poor Matt...little did he know that not everybody would be appreciative of his talent and determination. And that his strength and resilience would be put to the test in the most heartbreaking way at the gym he was going to join.

As Matt and his dad stepped into the gym's entrance, a wave of excitement washed over them. The dimly lit studio bustled with aspiring boxers. The air was thick with the faint scent of sweat and the rhythmic thud of boxers punching heavy bags.

In one corner, a coach barked instructions to a young boxer shadowboxing in front of a full-length mirror. In another corner, two boxers sparred, their punches testing each other's skills and strength.

"Wow!" Matt gaped in wonder. He couldn't help but feel like a champion already. He knew this was the place where he would begin his journey...where he would learn the art of boxing. And one day become a champion.

It felt like a dream on the cusp of coming true.

And the day he would lift his trophy, he vowed to pay tribute to all his favorite boxers whose posters adorned his bedroom walls.

"Buddy, Matt...hey!" Fabian snapped Matt out of his thoughts. "That's the coach. Come with me."

Matt followed his dad further into the gym, where Coach Maurice stood, yelling his instructions.

"Hello, sir, my name is Fabian. And this is my son, Matt," Fabian greeted the coach.

"I would like my son to learn professional boxing here..."

Coach Maurice stared at Matt square in the eye and smirked. "You sure you can punch that bag and move that thing an inch...boy? Because that bag seems heavier than you!"

Fabian was a little taken aback by that remark. It was not the kindest thing to say to someone striving to accomplish their dream. And it was definitely not something you'd tell a kid.

"Ah, my son can do it, coach! He's been practicing a lot," Fabian said, smiling as he looked reassuringly at his boy. He didn't want his son to feel let down by the coach's silly remark.

It was like a moment when the lion springs to his feet to defend his cub. Fabian wasn't going to let anybody mock his son's skinny appearance and belittle his abilities.

"Alright…Fill out a form...and pay the membership fee today. He can join tomorrow," Coach Maurice said.

"Oh, I thought he could join today!" Fabian said. "He was so excited and—"

But the coach cut through Fabian's speech.

"I understand, sir. But it's already getting late. Besides, the only other boy under 15 whom your son has to practice with is absent today. I can't allow your son to practice with the bigger boys. It's against the rules of our gym. So, bring your son back tomorrow! Have a great evening."

"Alright!" Fabian exhaled deeply and looked at Matt. The boy was quite disappointed.

"Don't worry, champ—just a few more hours. And you'll start practicing here, okay?" he tried comforting Matt as they exited the gym.

Matt disappointedly nodded, but he instantly cheered up when Fabian treated him to his favorite cookies and cream ice cream on the way.

The following evening after school, Matt hurried home excitedly. He changed into his gym clothes and rushed to the gym. He couldn't wait to start practicing. But when he got there...

"Coach Maurice!" Matt approached his trainer with a big, broad smile. But the coach ignored Matt and kept blowing the whistle, gesturing for the other boys to take their break.

"Oh, you!" Coach Maurice finally answered Matt. "Get in the ring."

He stared at Matt's new boxing gloves and frowned. The boy had come fully geared up for practice, and Coach Maurice doubted the boy's ability even before he could get started.

"Billie!" the coach whistled and called out for the 14-year-old boy Matt was set to practice with.

"Come on up in the ring!"

A strange sensation, Matt didn't know if that was fear, crawled up his gut. But he knew he had to showcase his skills. This boxing ring was not a place for the timid. And Matt was determined not to get scared.

So, like a brave boy, he got into the ring and fist-bumped as his opponent, Billie, entered.

The boys started boxing, delivering their best punches. Matt enjoyed every bit of it. It was a whole new feeling and very different from what he experienced while practicing alone at home in the garage.

But his excitement quickly came crashing down when Coach Maurice blew the whistle and said: "Hold it right there! This is not how you throw a punch, new boy."

Matt's worst fears came alive when the coach barged into the ring and started mocking him by imitating his movements.

"This...and this? Is this how you throw a punch? Like a little girl swatting mosquitoes?"

A rumble of laughter filled the gym. All the boys cackled as Matt froze in embarrassment.

"C.—ccc—coach, it's my first day...and I was a little nervous. I...I can do it." Matt looked up at the coach.

"Ah, don't you give me that! So what if it's your first day? You wouldn't use that as an excuse on your first tournament, would you? Oh, wait. I doubt you'll make it to the tournament at this rate, so don't bother!"

It felt as if Coach Maurice had woken up that morning with just one resolution in mind—to mock his new student. But Matt wasn't going to let the coach get away with it.

"I will make it to the tournament, Coach. I promised Dad I would. And I'll do everything it takes to win and take my trophy home!"

Coach Maurice was stunned at the boy's nerves. Nobody had done something like that before. Nobody had argued with him. The boy's audacity to answer him back struck Coach Maurice hard.

"Get back in the ring, boys," he barked. "And YOU! Continue practicing. I want to see more of that…GO!"

After an exhausting evening at the gym, Matt hurried home. Coach Maurice's words kept ringing in his head, and he was determined to show the trainer what he was capable of.

So, the next day, Matt arrived at the gym with more confidence and courage. He was not going to let Billie punch his face this time. And he would certainly not let Coach Maurice make a joke out of him again.

Only five minutes after Billie and Matt got in the ring and started their boxing session, throwing punches at each other, Coach Maurice blew the whistle, yelling at them to stop.

"Is this the best you've got, boy?" Coach Maurice barked. "I don't see champion material here. You have to punch...on the face...and block...not get punched."

Unsettling whispers and giggles filled the gym, leaving Matt crestfallen.

Getting punched in boxing is a part of the game. It's no big deal. All that matters is the ultimate knockdown. So what if Matt got smacked in the face? Champions are not born; they are made! Instances like these make a champion.

But Coach Maurice had to find a reason to berate the boy. And when he got that chance, he decided to use it to his heart's content and insulted Matt in the ring.

Meanwhile, in Fabian's office...

Fabian and his colleagues just finished their formal lunch in the office cafeteria.

Following the recent success of a new software project by the team led by Fabian, the Boss gathered everyone in the conference room for an important meeting. They were also set to discuss the upcoming quarterly results.

Moreover, Fabian had to deliver an important presentation. It was the most crucial part of the entire gathering, and it was his chance to earn his much-awaited promotion.

Flapping his blazer with a confident grin, Fabian marched into the meeting room and took his seat.

The meeting began, only to pause ten minutes later. "Sorry, gentlemen. Kindly excuse me. I have to take this call. It's from an important client. Just give me five minutes," the Boss excused himself and left the room.

Meanwhile, Fabian and his colleagues started chatting at the table when suddenly, one of them got a video call from their son.

"Not now, Patrick! Dad's in the middle of something important," Fabian's colleague Joe muttered. "My son joined this new gym today...and I think he's calling me from there!" Joe was just about to reject the call when Fabian stopped him.

"Pick it up, Joe. Boss won't be around for the next five minutes. What if it's something important? Just answer it, man!"

"Alright, then!" Joe tapped, and his son Patrick appeared on the screen.

"Fabian, he's my son, Patrick!" Joe said, flashing his phone before Fabian.

"Hey, there, Patrick. Nice to see you!" Fabian waved a hi. That's when the background drew his attention. It was the gym where Matt practiced boxing, and Patrick, who also went to the same gym, had called from there.

To Fabian's horror, the scene in the ring behind Patrick caught him off guard. The dad was startled when he witnessed Coach Maurice yelling at his son Matt in the backdrop.

"Hey...hey...one sec. Can you just reverse your camera and show me what's going on over there...behind you?" Fabian asked Patrick.

"Sure!"

Fabian's heart raced when he watched what was going on. Rage surged into his veins when he saw the coach insulting Matt on the video call.

"I've trained real champions, and you, kid? You're nowhere close. You're not fit to be a boxer, let me tell you that!"

Despite seeing how disheartened Matt was becoming, Coach Maurice refused to stop taunting him.

Tears gushed into Matt's eyes, and he was putting up a brave fight to hold them back. The way the other boys laughed at him hurt him more...and he cried.

Fabian was watching everything from his office. His blood started to boil.

"Any kid in the tournament could destroy you in his sleep!" Coach Maurice hissed. "I've seen skilled boxers in this ring. And some winners too! So imagine how disappointing it is to see a little loser like you in here."

"Quit crying like a little girl, kid! I hate to break it to you...but you might as well hang up those gloves now. A skinny boy like you can never be a boxer!"

Matt burst into tears and sidled past the coach. He could take it no more. He bolted out of the gym, and nobody stopped him. Nobody cared how his little heart broke, and they all shared a hearty laugh. Fabian was horrified.

"Oh my God! This is unbelievable! How dare he insult my son like this?" Fabian's eyes bulged with anger as he rose from his chair and bolted out of the office.

"Fabian, where are you going?" Fabian's boss asked. "What about the presentation?"

"Kindly excuse me, Boss. My son needs me. I have to go. I'll explain everything later."

Fabian's voice trailed off as he darted to his car and drove home as fast as he could.

"Matt? Honey, Mattie?" he shouted, but there was no answer.

So Fabian bolted upstairs to Matt's bedroom and swung the door open. When the boy saw his father at the doorway, he wiped his face dry.

"Hey, Dad! What's up?" he said, pretending to be alright.

But Fabian knew that his son was not alright.

"Hey! I just came around to ask you something. But never mind...I'll take care of it," Fabian said, closing the door.

He didn't want to tell Matt he had seen Coach Maurice mocking him on the video call. He knew it would only shatter Matt's heart.

So Fabian decided to take things into his own hands.

The next day, he took half a day off work and parked his car a few blocks from the gym. He intently watched as Matt entered the fitness studio with his boxing gear.

The boy got into the ring and started punching the sandbag, guessing little that today would be the last day he would have to deal with Coach Maurice's ugly insults.

"Oh, my! Just look at your punching style, kid! How often do I have to tell you that you have to throw a punch like a boxer? Not like you're shooing away flies!" Coach Maurice scoffed.

Those words angered Matt, and he vented all his frustration on the punching bag. He kept punching, and the coach continued to insult him.

"You'll never be a professional boxer, I can give you that in writing. Well, at least you'll be the skinny boy who thought he could become a champion. At least it'll give us a few good laughs!"

"ENOUGH! Coach Maurice, watch your words, and STOP RIGHT THERE!"

"Da-Dad?" Matt was stunned to see his father standing right behind Coach Maurice, who was as shocked as a deer caught in headlights.

"Why aren't you talking now, Maurice??" Fabian yelled. The boys stopped their practice and flocked around the scene.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Matt ran up to Fabian.

"I'm here to do what I should've done yesterday...smack this man's face after watching him mock you. Maurice, you better thank your fate I didn't show up here yesterday. Had that happened, you would've been in the hospital now, plugged to wires."

Matt's heart sank when he realized his father knew about everything. He was embarrassed and hurt, and couldn't bring himself together to face him.

"I...I was just trying to encourage the boy, Mr. Reynolds. He was taking it very slow. And at times, we need to be a little strict to push them up, you know!" Coach Maurice faked a smile and tried diffusing the situation.

"Encourage somebody by mocking them? Oh, I haven't heard of that before," Fabian yelled.

"You insulted my son. You were undermining his confidence...and that's not what a coach does. I don't understand why you did this or what made you think my son is incompetent to be a boxer. But I just want to tell you one thing—you are NOBODY to judge my son."

"I'm sorry, i-it won't happen again," Coach Maurice said.

"Oh, no, it won't! Because I'm taking my son with me right now. And he'll never come to this goddamn gym again."

"Dad? No...wait...Dad, please...." Matt pleaded.

But Fabian grabbed his arm and led him outside.

Is it over? Am I not going to become a boxer anymore? Several questions haunted Matt as he sat in the car and silently cried. Then, the car came to a screeching halt outside a familiar building in the town square.

"Phoenix Boxing Club?" Matt exclaimed.

"Yes! Come with me," Fabian said as he unfastened his seat belt and got down.

"But Dad...memberships here are so expensive. Let's go back home. I'll practice in the garage. I don't want you to spend so much money on this. You have already spent so much on Coach Maurice's gym. I doubt he'd give a refund."

"I'm not spending money on you, champ," Fabian placed his hand on Matt's shoulder.

"I'm investing in your future! Besides, I'm your Dad. I'd cross the oceans for you, buddy. This is nothing. Follow me."

Matt joined the new gym, and he liked it here. It was bigger and better in several ways. But one of the most important aspects was the club's strict no-tolerance policy for mocking or insulting its peers.

Four months later, Matt went to his first under-15 boxing tournament. The rhythmic thumping of a bass-heavy soundtrack echoed in the air as he stood in the corner of the ring.

Dressed in his crisp red and white boxing attire, Matt could feel beads of sweat trickling down his temples as he adjusted his headgear and turned to the spectators.

"Matt! Champ...Go for it...Nail it! You can do this!" he saw Fabian clapping his hands and cheering loudly for him.

The referee signaled for the boxers to step into the center stage. Matt's opponent, a slightly older boy, and more experienced fighter, stood on the other side of the ring.

He locked eyes with Matt, his menacing stare screaming his past victories as they fist-bumped.

The bell rang, and the match started. Adrenaline surged through Matt's veins. He had awaited this moment. He blocked and dodged his opponent's punches with cautious precision, making his first strike.

The crowd roared cheers, and amidst all that noise, Matt could make out one familiar voice. It was his father's, and it gave Matt the much-needed confidence and strength to keep fighting.

Matt jabbed, ducked, and countered with a quick left hook, surprising his opponent with another speedy punch. Minutes felt like hours as the two boxers clashed in the center of the ring, each landing punches and dodging the other's blows.

As the final round approached, Matt knew he had to give it his all. This was going to be his defining moment. His dad was watching his every move, and he could never let him down.

Matt delivered a flurry of punches. His opponent stumbled backward, and his balance wavered. Matt seized the moment and landed a clean punch that sent his opponent sprawling to the canvas.

Time seemed to freeze as the referee began to count.

"One...two...three..."

Matt's heart raced as he watched the boy struggling to get up. The cheers echoing in the stadium grew deafening.

"Four...five...six..." the referee continued.

But the opponent's eyes showed the toll of the fight, and he collapsed on the floor. The arena erupted into cheers and applause as the referee reached the count of ten.

Matt had won his first boxing match—a moment he would cherish for the rest of his life.

Tears sprang into his eyes when he raised his gloved fists in victory. His coach and family rushed into the ring and embraced him. That's when Matt noticed the unthinkable.

"Coach Maurice?!" he exclaimed. Fabian turned around and was equally startled at seeing the arrogant Coach Maurice standing there.

"Congrats on the win, Matt!" Coach Maurice said.

He was certainly guilty, and it was evident in his eyes. He could not bring himself to face Matt and his father.

Matt smiled with pride and said nothing. With teary eyes, he turned to his father and said, "Thanks for believing in me, Dad. I love you!"

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