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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Martin's entrance song is "Walk of Life" by Dire Straits, which he uses because it was also the song his grandfather chose to enter the ring with. Also, the official music video has such great sports bloopers.

"A champion is one who gets up when he can't." - Jack Dempsey (1895-1983). World Heavyweight Champion (1919-1926)

"Nothing can intimidate me. I just go out and destruct and destroy." - Marvelous Marvin Hagler (1954), former undisputed middleweight champion and the inspiration for Martin's ring name.

The McGregor family had been to Las Vegas countless times, but none of them could ever remember the city being so unbelievably crowded as it was now. With the hype surrounding Martin's fight with Ian O'Brien, every hotel room in the city was filled. "No Vacancy" signs dotted the landscape, telling everyone loudly and clearly that there was no room at the inn.

And at the center of the crowded confusion was the MGM Grand Hotel, the chosen venue for the bout that would determine who the undisputed middleweight champion of the world would be. From every corner of the city, people came to make their bets on who would win, McGregor or O'Brien. The tide of money riding on the fight was incredible.

The money riding on the fight didn't concern Martin in the least. He and O'Brien had signed a deal to split the $150 million purse sixty-forty, with Martin getting the lion's share of the earnings since he was the bigger name draw, and he'd been a champion longer than O'Brien. No, that wasn't important to him at all right now. He was here to fulfill a promise he'd made to his grandfather years ago. He was going to be the third generation undisputed champion in the McGregor line. Tonight, he would win the other two belts in honor of his late grandfather.

"If O'Brien wants to knock me out," said Martin as Oliver wrapped his paws. "He'd better pull a turnbuckle off the ring and beat me to death with it, cause I'm not walking away without those other two belts."

Oliver, Bradley and Will were stunned by the things Martin had been saying lately. The usually happy-go-lucky folf had shown an incredibly serious side since losing his grandfather two months ago. Never before had anyone in Martin's camp seen him work so hard, pushing himself to the very physical limits of what his body was capable of. No matter what Will or Bradley told him to do, Martin would always go the extra distance, showing them that he had the heart of a warrior, of a real champion.

"No matter what happens tonight," said Bradley, putting his son's robe and gloves on him. "I hope you know that Grandpa would be proud of you. I'm proud of you, Martin."

"I know, Dad," said Martin with a grin more characteristic of his disposition.

Team McGregor could hear O'Brien making his way into the ring. There had been two under card fights prior to this, the main event. Bradley saw the determination in his son's eyes, the single-minded obsession that possessed his son to be the victor tonight. He knew he was ready. Once O'Brien had made his entrance into the ring, the security personal arrived at their dressing room to escort them through the crowd of frenzied spectators. Martin lifted the hood of his robe over his head, getting in his strut as he made his way into the ring. This night, he'd chosen not to play his usual entrance song. Still wanting to honor the memory of his late grandfather, he played Mighty Martin's entrance song instead.

"Here comes Johnny singing oldies, goldies Be-Bop-A-Lula, Baby What I Say Here comes Johnny singing I Gotta Woman Down in the tunnels trying to make it pay He got the action, he got the motion Yeah the boy can play Dedication devotion Turning all the night time into the day

He do the song about the sweet loving woman He do the song about the knife He do the walk, he do the walk of life."

As the entry song played, Bradley, Will, Oliver, Matthew Jackson and several other members of Martin's entourage followed close behind, with Bradley holding up his son's WBC belt, and Will holding up the WBA belt. The rest of the entourage carried large pictures of the late Mighty Martin McGregor. Martin climbed through the ropes, raising his paws high as the crowd cheered him on. The bell rang for the introduction to start.

_"Ladies and gentleman, good evening and welcome to the MGM Grand Hotel, this is the main event! Twelve rounds of boxing for the undisputed middleweight championship of the world! This bout is sanctioned by the Nevada State Athletic Commission, along with the World Boxing Association, World Boxing Council, World Boxing Organization and the International Boxing Federation! Scoring will be on the ten point must system!" So now, for the thousands in attendance and the millions watching around the world . . . LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!!!"

"Introducing first in the blue corner, wearing the orange white and green trunks, he weighed in at a fit and trim 158 lbs and comes to us from Dublin, Ireland. His professional record consists of 20 wins, no defeats, with 18 of his victories coming to him by way of knockout! Known as "The Hurricane", here is the fighting pride of Ireland, Ian O'Brien!"_

The Irish fans in the audience roared their approval, waving the white, orange and green flag of their country. Martin was busy working himself into a sweat as the announcer went on.

"And fighting out of the red corner and wearing turquoise trunks, he weighed in at a rough and ready 160 lbs, and comes from Catskill, New York. With a professional record of 23 wins, no losses, and 19 of his opponents meeting defeat by way of knockout, he hails from the royal family of boxing. Son of former undisputed champion Bradley "Bad Intentions" McGregor and grandson of the late undisputed champion "Mighty" Martin McGregor, pound-for-pound, he's regarded as one of the greatest fighters of his time. Ladies and gentleman, here is the one, the only "Marvelous" Martin McGregor!"

Martin, obviously the crowd favorite, received the most cheers in all the arena, but that didn't matter to him. He was in the middle of the ring, staring face-to-face with Ian O'Brien, who would undoubtedly be his toughest opponent ever. The referee, a German Shepherd, gave the fighters their instructions.

"Okay, gentleman, we're fighting under the rules of the World Boxing Council. I expect a tough, clean fight at all times. Protect yourselves at all times, obey my commands at all times. Any questions? Then touch gloves and let's get to it!"

Both fighters returned to their corners briefly, having their handlers insert their mouthpieces and apply Vaseline to their faces. Bradley didn't need to give his son any instructions before he went out to do battle with the Irish cheetah. The whistle blew, ordering the seconds out. Staring across the ring at O'Brien, Martin was ready for a royal rumble.

The bell ring and both Ian and Martin moved towards the center of the ring. Martin had spent untold number of hours studying his opponent, and he knew that the cheetah would come out swinging. Ian didn't disappoint him. He threw a flurry of bunches as he charged at the folf, but Martin fought back, sending several hard punches the cheetah's direction. Only one straight right managed to find the speedy cat, briefly knocking him off balance and eliciting a short roar of approval from the crowd. Martin moved to the inside, trying to land body punches to the cheetah, but Ian tied him up, forcing the referee to break them. At this time, Ian started taunting Martin, trying to anger him and get him to go off his game plan, but the folf was having none of it. He went on the defensive, letting O'Brien press him back towards the ropes, but before he could touch them, Martin sent a hard left into the cheetah's side, making him grunt form the pain. The crowd roared with approval once more, but the folf was driven back into the ropes as O'Brien unloaded a flurry of punches into him. Pressing his arms against his midsection, the folf took the barrage of punches until the bell for the first round sounded and the referee got in between the two fighters, separating them. Martin returned to his corner, sitting down on his stool.

"Try to go on the offensive, son!" yelled Bradley, applying more Vaseline to his son's face.

"I'm a defensive fighter, Dad!' countered the folf. "Just let me stick to my game plan!"

"Fine!" yelled Bradley. "After this you need to find another trainer!"

Martin went out into ring for the second round in a much more cautious state. He let his pride get the best of him, and it had ended with O'Brien definitely winning the first round. Martin tried using his jab, catching the cheetah square in the face at times, while missing completely on others. Never letting himself get angry, he danced about the ring, trying to find a weakness in his opponent. He traded glares with the cheetah, letting him know that he wasn't intimidated in the least by the cat's speed and strength. With his paws over his face in the "peek-a-boo" stance, Martin got on the inside, sending several had shots to the cheetah's body before Ian tired him up like before. The referee broke them, and Martin was left on the outside, trying to get back in. He watched as the cheetah lowered his paws. Stepping back inside, he raised his right paw, trying to throw a hook at the cheetah's chin, but was blocked and felt a hard right from O'Brien being slammed against the side of his face. Martin thought that it was a sledgehammer he'd been hit with. His legs went rubbery, and he knew he was in trouble. Putting his arms around his face, he felt the hard left-right combinations of Ian being slammed into his sides. The pain was the worst he felt in his entire career, but he staid on his feat, hearing the sound of his father's voice telling him to fight back. Somehow, in the midst of the onslaught, Martin managed to lash out, hitting the cheetah with a right uppercut to the chin. The blow didn't have the force that Martin had hoped, but it was enough to break Ian from the left-right rhythm that was killing him. The bell rang, and for the first time in his career, Bradley was glad to be returning to his stool. Instantly, Matthew and Oliver were on him, applying the enswell to his face to reduce the swelling caused by the cheetah's right hook.

"Martin, you've gotta get in the game, son!" yelled Bradley. "That's two rounds you've blown now, and I'm not sure you can stand up against another beating like that!"

"Just trust me!" yelled the folf, feeling cold water from a bottle being poured on his head. "I know what I'm doing!"

"Well, you could have fooled me!" snapped Bradley. The third round went terribly for the folf, as did the fourth, fifth and sixth . He took several blows from the speedy cheetah unnecessarily. Martin managed to get in a few good power punches, but this was hardly comforting to him or his seconds, the latter of which were seeing him being beaten to a pulp. On more than one occasion, Bradley wrestled with the idea of throwing in the towel, but knew that Martin would rather face being crippled than to have his father call an end to the contest. And then, with twelve seconds left in the round, O'Brien caught him with a straight right, sending him to the canvas for the very first time in his career. His vision blurred, he got on his knees as the referee counted "one, two, three". Somehow, he managed to get the strength to pull himself up at the count of nine. The referee grabbed his paws, checking his balance. Staring straight ahead, he was asked if he could continue. He answered yes right away, and the bell rang indicating the end of the round. Bradley watched in horror as Martin walked to the neutral corner instead of his own corner. Oliver and Matthew were forced to bring the wandering folf back to his stool.

The pain and dizziness Martin was going through then was greater than anything he'd ever felt in his life. He could see his father and Will in front of him, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Looking down at his right leg, he saw the golden image of his grandfather. He stared at it, then looked up. There was a bright light and a familiar face smiling at him.

"Grandpa?"

Yes, Martin," said the figure in an echoing tone. "It's Grandpa."

"I'm losing," said Martin, breathing heavily. "I'm gonna fail everybody."

The figure shook it's head. "No you're not, boy. You're going to go out there and win those belts. Everyone's going to be proud of you. You'll see."

"Seconds out!"

Martin got off his stool, ready to go back to it. Meanwhile, Will and Bradley looked at one another, trying to figure out what just happened.

"Was he just talking to your Dad?" asked Will, completely puzzled by the folf's behavior.

The bell for the seventh round rang, and the fighters went to it. Ian moved in, sending several power punches Martin's way, but the folf ducked, dodged, bobbed and weaved like he had just gotten into the fight. The crowd, seeing Martin getting his wind back, cheered him on. Ian moved in to pummel the folf once more, but was met with a hard right paw directly to his stomach. He gasped, feeling his energy suddenly diminish. His eyes blazing like fire, Martin went to work, jabbing at the cheetah's face and sending him stumbling back. The folf was like a wild beast, running after the cheetah as he continued stumbling. He could hear the crowd cheering him on, yelling "Martin! Martin! Martin!" as he unloaded with everything he had. There was no boxing now, only a vicious barroom brawl. With his guard down, Martin clocked the cheetah on the chin with a short, chopping uppercut, causing Ian's head to snap back and his legs to go rubbery. Martin gave no quarter, following his enemy around the ring and paying him back for the rounds of abuse he'd taken. The folf was completely possessed, slamming lefts and rights into the cheetah's bloodied face. No a single beast in the crowd was sitting down by this point. They were all on their feat cheering him on as he was about ready to give it everything. Ian stumbled about the ring, and Martin knew that three was the lucky number. Winding up, he clocked the cheetah in the side with his famous right hook. Ian tried covering himself to stop the beating, but was hit with a left hook to his side. Martin danced around, waiting for the golden opportunity, waiting, waiting, waiting.

It happened, the cheetah dropped his left paw and Bradley sent the heaviest right hook in his life right to the point of the cheetah's chin. The shot connected perfectly. Ian's head snapped suddenly to the side before he fell on his back, his arms stretched wide. The referee started the count, staying only inches away from the floored cheetah.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!" He waved his arms. The fight was over! Martin had done it! Somehow, he managed to jump up on the ropes of the ring before his corner flooded into the ring and lifted him into the air. Everyone in the MGM Grand, including the Irish fans, were jumping up and down, celebrating a hard fought, hard won victory for Team McGregor.

As Martin was brought down to the canvas, he was the IBF and WBO belts being presented to him. He was the undisputed middleweight champion of the world now! An old bulldog named Larry Butler approached him, carrying an HBO microphone. He put his paw on the new champion's shoulder.

"Martin," he said in his gruff voice. "I'm starting to feel my age right now. I interviewed your grandfather when he became an undisputed champion, then your father. Now, here I am talking to you, the new undisputed middleweight champion of the world! Well done!"

"Thank you, Larry!" huffed the folf, holding his belts up in the air as he was surrounded by his corner man.

"Martin, you've had a very difficult time this year with the loss of your beloved grandfather. Could you feel his presence out their tonight?"

"I sure could, Larry," said the folf, holding the belts up high again for everyone to see. "This is for you, Grandpa! I love you!" The entire crowd cheered at the mention of Martin's late grandfather, and his dedicating the victory to him.

"Larry, I was wondering if I might have your microphone for a minute, cause I'd like to talk to everyone here."

The bulldog relinquished control of the device to Martin, who addressed the crowd. "People, I'd just like to tell all of you thank you for coming out to see the fight tonight. I'd like to thank Mr. Ian O'Brien for agreeing to this fight. You're a real warrior, Ian, and I hope you keep fighting!"

Ian O'Brien, now finally able to get on his feet, walked over and gave the folf a hug, telling him he was a fine champion, but there was still something else that Martin wanted to deal with before the night was over. Matthew Jackson, his wildcat friend and fellow boxer, came over and put a TEAM MCGREGOR shirt over the folf. Martin looked over in Olivia's direction. She'd been sitting ringside the entire fight.

"There's someone out here tonight that I'd really like to come up here into the ring with me. Olivia?"

The crowd applauded as Olivia went through the ropes and over to her boyfriend's side. "Everyone, this is my beautiful girlfriend, Olivia. We've known each other since we were little cubs, and I love her more than anything in the world! So, after tonight's victory, there's a very important question I'd like to ask you . . . ."

Olivia's twin brother Oliver came over with a small box and placed it in Martin's paws, who opened it and revealed a diamond ring inside. "Olivia McCallister, would you marry me?"

Everyone in the crowd went "Aww!" when the white she wolf said yes. Not wanting to waste anytime, Martin then asked the crowd if they would mind staying just twenty minutes more as the newly engaged couple decided to get married right there in the ring at the MGM Grand Hotel! Luckily Martin had thought ahead, having paid for the services of a minister. Olivia's parents, Martin's parents and siblings, along with thousands in attendance and millions watching around the world were treated to the spectacle of not only a great fight, but also a wedding that night. When the minister finished the ceremony, he presented the happy couple as "Mr. and Mrs. Martin and Olivia McGregor!" Martin let his new wife climb through the ropes before getting down himself, and exiting the same aisle that he had entered in, he picked up Olivia, as though carrying her through the threshold, much to the crowd's approval. It was then that Will looked at his best friend Bradley, completely shocked, but overjoyed.

"Your Dad was right, Brad," he said with a chuckle.

"About what?" asked Bradley.

"He said one day that the McGregors and McCallisters would be joined together by those two."

"Yeah," said Bradley with a chuckle. "I hope I can be as wise as Dad was some day!"