In the opposite corner, the energy was tense but focused.
Joren Edlen sat on the stool, his chest rising with steady breaths, sweat already starting to form on his shoulders.
He wiped his mouth with a towel as his head coach crouched in front of him, voice sharp and fast.
"Alright, Joren, you gotta stop reacting to every feint. He's baiting you, and you're giving him everything he needs."
Another coach leaned over his shoulder. "You dipped right into it thar uppercut. He's setting traps and you're falling for them."
The wrestling coach tapped Joren's thigh, voice calm but firm. "You're too upright in the break. If you clinch, commit. Ride the position or bail out fast. But don't hang there, he's killing you on the exit."
Joren nodded, rinsing his mouth and spitting into the bucket beside him.
