They are the only pair I have worn. I am the only one who laces their wraps. Two rugged boxing gloves with tethered leather straps and worn padding. Two who have protected and blocked attacks. Two who have struck down there and back. From my pair of “RDX's,” to my first pair of “Punch Towns,” a pair of “Everlast” caught my eye and the glove fit just right.
Their durability is conviction. They send forth booming punches that echo off gymnasium walls. They defend and counter; their leather sewing rips and tears; and yet, they continue to strike without delay and fear to cease. This is how they thrive.
Let one arm falter from an opposing attack, the defense will shatter as if it were glass. Block! Block! Block! They cry when I fall back. They train.
When I am too exhausted and stained with sweat, when I am only one individual  blocking so many attacks, then it is I who tightens their leather straps. When there are rips and tears, holes and gaps, and tightened leather straps. Two who emerge victorious despite oncoming attacks. Two who do not just block but two who attack. Two whose only dream is to achieve and succeed…