Filming One More Round with Paul Mora hit me in a way I didn’t expect.

On the surface, it’s a fight story. Training. Sweat. The ring lights. That familiar walk toward something that can’t be faked. But being around Paul for a few weeks, I realized this wasn’t really about boxing at all. Boxing was just the language he learned early to explain something deeper: discipline when life gives you none, purpose when the world expects you to fold, and identity when you’re still figuring out who you’re allowed to become.

Paul carries a lot—patrol shifts that don’t end cleanly, calls that follow you home even when you don’t talk about them, and the kind of responsibility that doesn’t take a day off just because you’re tired. And then there’s fatherhood. The most important title he has. Watching him move between those worlds—street, home, gym—was like watching someone protect a promise he made to himself as a kid. A kid who grew up poor in a single-parent home, who didn’t get handed stability, who had to build it with his own two hands… one round at a time.

And then fight night came—and it didn’t go the way he wanted.

That’s the part people don’t always understand. It’s easy to document victories. It’s easy to post highlights. But this story earned its name in the aftermath—when the result didn’t match the sacrifice, when the emotions hit, and when Paul had to decide what that meant about him.

I’ve filmed enough to know this: the real character doesn’t show up when everything goes right. It shows up when the plan breaks.

Paul’s story reminded me why I love this work. Because the camera doesn’t just capture motion—it captures resolve. It captures the invisible things: the pressure, the doubt, the pride, the responsibility, the ghosts of where you came from, and the hope of who you’re still trying to be. And if you’re paying attention, it captures the moment a man chooses not to quit—even when quitting would be understandable.

One More Round is about a deputy. A fighter. A father. But more than that, it’s about a man refusing to let his circumstances write his ending.

I’m grateful Paul trusted me with this. Grateful he let me into the hard parts, not just the highlight reel. Because stories like his don’t just inspire people—they remind the rest of us what it looks like to keep showing up.

Even when you’re tired.
Even when life is heavy.
Even when the outcome isn’t what you hoped.

You rise anyway.

One more round.