There hangs an exquisite watercolor painting of boxer Mike Tyson in his prime. He is draped in championship belts, that menacing look in his eyes, the signature gold tooth barely visible beneath his steely profile. The greens, reds, yellows, and blues give life to the portrait against the whitewashed wall. It is a sharp, if not overly self-evident, reminder that champions are not made overnight. In the adjacent room hangs similar paintings—one of all-star San Francisco 49ers quarterback Joe Montana and another of Hall-of-Fame linebacker Lawrence “LT” Taylor. A boxing ring sits center floor. The crowd of neon du jour twenty-somethings eagerly awaits the arrival of their champion. He is late.

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