Miami was the place he had depended on for the past four years. It was his refuge...where he slept. Partied. Trained. Decompressed after championships. Lived as a prince who finally knew the vices and virtues of luxury, yet refused to quit fighting dirty with his fists, like the pauper he’d been for most of his existence. But Florida wasn’t where Joaquin “Sinner” Ryder belonged. Las Vegas—no, Ryder’s Boxing Club, the single-level concrete gym built on the labors of friendship, favors and six-packs of beer, with the hands of men whose aged Polaroid photographs were stuck with tape, tacks and wads of chewing gum to a chipped cork bulletin board in the lobby—had possession of his heart. Without the place that anchored his entire damn life, without the place his soul’s compass had always pointed toward, he’d begun to drift. Now wasn’t the time to veer off the narrow road to victory. He was a man whose wealth could satisfy his greed, but he couldn’t afford to let the international hype surrounding his upcoming pay-per-view fight, his ex-fiancée’s malice or the pressure to remain America’s undefeated super middleweight champ get to him.
What do You think about Just For Christmas Night (2014)?
