by Brian Cotton
Chapter .03
About to be introduced into the ring, Kaspar shook off the thoughts about his dinner hours before. Outside the red curtain in front of him lay the arena that the leaders of the illicit boxing ring built. It only had five rows of wooden benches stacked on top of one another, but with the hundreds of citizens who crowded each other every fight night, it felt like a coliseum. Danny said it reminded him of old Madison Square Garden, whatever the hell that was.
There was a different buzz in the air for this fight, however. The combatants would be Kaspar, unbeaten in twenty-seven bouts. He would fight Razor, unbeaten in fifty, with six kills, the heavy favorite for this fight. The negative thoughts were erased from his mind. There was nothing but a deep feeling of anticipation now. His heart rate increased, the adrenaline flowed through his veins, and Kaspar fed off of it. Time seemed to inch its way along.
Come on, just announce the fighters and let’s be done with it.
The roar of the crowd outside told Kaspar that the official for the fight had entered the ring and it was about damned time, too.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Kaspar heard from the other side of the curtain. “Tonight is a special night. Two undefeated fighters will collide in this ring. We ask that nobody enter the ring at any time, nobody throw anything into the ring, and that you all enjoy tonight’s fight. For those attending for the first time, the rules are simple. Bare knuckle boxing and the only way to win is by knockout. Are you ready?”
The roar of the crowd gave the official his answer.
“Introducing first, a man with twenty-seven wins and no defeats, a man that we have all grown to love for his tenacity and fighting spirit. He stands six foot two, weighs in at two hundred fifteen pounds—RYAN KASPAR!”
Once he stepped foot outside the curtain, the once loving crowd cried out in boos. Kaspar would fight their hero tonight, and no matter how much they cheered him on in previous bouts, he would be public enemy number one. The crowd of men and a few women (who dared not step in the ring with him) shouted obscenities.
He didn’t care what they said about him, but Kaspar heard someone shout something about his bitch mother, and he almost lost it. He turned and looked into the crowd, trying desperately to find that person and beat the shit out of him. He felt Danny’s hands on his back and continued his walk forward.
Danny pulled the cheap blue ropes up and Kaspar bent down to enter. His feet met the white mat which did little in the way of cushioning the fighters from the hard concrete underneath. Blood spatter from previous fights stained the ground. There was one red blotch on the mat that Kaspar always looked at. It reminded him of that first knockout when the blood from his opponents mouth spilled everywhere. He walked over to his corner and peeled off his moist black shirt. He stood in his black shorts while Danny wrapped white tape around the knuckles on his fists.
“Remember,” Danny said as he taped, “this guy is going to come in hard, looking for the kill early. Just survive that initial burst and he’ll be worn out.”
Kaspar nodded his head. He liked how his trainer put it: survive. Survival was something foreign to him. Most nights his opponents were like that desperate man Razor killed. They lacked size, but they made up for it by lacking any kind of fighting ability. Now, during this fight, he would have to learn how to survive on the fly.
The once rowdy crowd grew quiet with anticipation. Kaspar started to rub his right fist into his left hand. Their hero was about to be introduced into the ring: the man that they all hoped would beat the underdog into bloody submission. A strange feeling hit Kaspar as he stared down that red curtain in the back corner. His body started to tremble. He did not know if it came from adrenaline or fear. It was probably a mixture of both.
“And, now,” the official shouted to the crowd. “Your champion, with a record fifty wins without a defeat. Standing six feet four inches tall, weighing in at two hundred ninety-five pounds—RAZOR!”
Razor, with his jet black Mohawk and thick black chest hair, ran through the curtain so hard he almost ripped it down. The crowd roared to life in awe. Once he reached the entrance to the ring, he ducked and slid underneath the bottom rope. Kaspar put up his guard. Razor came charging in at him.
The official tried to get in between them so the fighters could touch fists, but Razor shoved him to ground. Before Kaspar knew it, the behemoth was in his face with a murderous look in his eyes.
Kaspar raised his arms up in defense. Somebody on the outside rang the bell. Razor threw a flurry of lefts then rights in quick succession. Kaspar managed to block most of them, only three or four shots landed in his face. With the sheer amount of adrenaline flowing in his veins, the hard hits felt like love taps.
A shot snuck up on Kaspar and landed in his left rib cage. Razor was starting to change tactics. He moved his arms down and blocked another shot to the ribs, but left himself exposed to a shot to his right eye. He kept from falling somehow and moved his body backward. Razor continued his flurry of punches.
“Get outta there!” Danny screamed.
Kaspar moved left. Razor came in hard with another quick flurry of lefts and rights. Arms protecting his face, Kaspar moved his body from left to right in anticipation of the blows. Kaspar tried to remain composed, kept telling himself that he’ll just wear himself out at this pace. He didn’t know, however, how many more shots he could block before the big one came.
“I’m gonna fuck you up!” Razor shouted.
Razor backed away from his assault and raised his right fist. He taunted Kaspar with a motion to come get some more. The crowd roared, but Kaspar knew that this was only a ploy on his opponents end to catch his breath and play to the crowd.
He wasn’t worn out, yet, just be patient…
Out of nowhere, a right hook connected to the right side of his face. Kaspar’s head snapped in that direction. His neck was the only thing that kept his head from flying into the crowd. His entire body went stiff like a dead man’s and the left side of his body hit the hard concrete.
1…2…3…
“Get up!” Danny shouted.
He could see a vision of Mother sitting on a street corner. She had an empty, rusted canister in her right hand and she begged for loose change. Nobody gave her any.
4…5…6…
Kaspar sat next to her, an empty can in his hand as well. Impaled, unable to work, he should have listened to her all along.
“GET UP!!!” Danny cried once more.
7…8….
He started to come back to his senses. The shouts of the crowd were audible once more. Kaspar was back on his feet just before the ten count. The official moved in front of him to check his vital signs. The official stared with amazement that the fighter hadn’t toppled back over, yet. Everything seemed to spin. Kaspar felt no strength in his legs, yet he still stood…
Razor shoved the official out of the way. He went in for the killing blow. Kaspar managed to raise his right forearm in time. The block followed up by a hard right hook to Razor’s face. The visions while he was on the mat created a new found vigor deep inside.
The monster was stunned. Nobody ever fought back against him. The underdog followed with a left hook. Razor raised his arms in defense, but was hit by a left and a right to the torso. Kaspar rose up and hit his enemy with two shots with his right, then one with the left. The crowd went into a stunned silence.
The behemoth backed away and rubbed at his cheeks. Kaspar stayed back and remained cautious. Razor no longer played to the crowd. Instead there was nothing but an intense focus in his eyes. The sleeping giant had been woken up.
Razor approached with caution. Kaspar raised his arms in defense.
“Your father,” Razor said in between breaths, “must have been a real bitch to have a son like you.”
Something inside snapped. Kaspar looked to his opponent, who looked back with a grin on his ugly face. The pain in his eye and body went away. He no longer felt woo
zy from the knockdown. He could feel his face burn red with anger. Razor just smiled and went in with a finishing hook. Kaspar ducked underneath it and hooked his opponent’s throat. He used his right leg and swept Razor’s feet from underneath him.
Both men crashed to the mat. Kaspar landed on top. He started to swing at the monster’s face below him. Right, left, right, left. He landed blow after blow until he could feel the official’s hand rest against his shoulder, but he didn’t stop. Father would be ashamed to have left his son. What did this fat son of a bitch know about family, anyway? When he came to, Razor spit out three blood stained teeth. Kaspar’s eyes went wide at the sound of the word disqualified.
What have I done?
Kaspar stood and backed away. Two men rushed in to check on the fallen, bloodied mess that lay on the mat. Two pairs of hands grabbed at Kaspar’s shoulders. H turned and saw Danny, who looked shell shocked right back at him. The trainer said nothing and led his fighter out of the ring. The crowd started to throw empty bottles of water and half eaten veggie sandwiches onto the mat.
Danny kept his grip on him all the way back to the locker room. Once inside, he shoved his fighter forward. Kaspar lowered his head and found a bench to lie down on. He rested his back and head on the hard wood. Danny approached with a red face.
What have I done?