by Sandy Kline
“Fine but you’re lashing out at the wrong person buddy. I didn’t leave you hanging high and dry just now.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, high and dry? I thought you just said he stepped out to take a call or some shit.”
“Well he ain’t back yet.” Brad replies.
“Get out of my face already and you’re not my buddy so go ahead and drop that shit right now!”
Jake storms off and works his way back to the locker room to see if Jamarcus has returned. He hasn’t. Jake looks at the wall clock. Fifteen minutes before he the announcer begins his spiel. Five minutes later one of Surge’s trainer comes back carrying Jakes gloves; such as they are. They offer two ounces more padding than his four ounce ‘gloves’ on the Blood Sport circuit.
“Has Christine taken her seat yet?” He asks.
“Yeah she’s there.” The man lies. No fucking way he’s gonna tell their new fighter that not only is his longtime trainer a no show, but so is his girlfriend. If that ain’t a recipe for disaster nothing is.
“Good, I wasn’t sure she would be able to get a sitter for the kid.”
“She’s there. Hard to spot from your corner but she’s in a good spot. She’ll be able to see you for sure.”
Jake paces around a few more minutes, going through different striking and kicking combinations as he waits for the announcer to begin speaking. Five minutes later the mayhem begins.
Jake jogs into the arena and into the spotlight as the announcer introduces The Punisher to a thousand screaming fans. Jake’s adrenaline surges as usual as he climbs the steps up on the stage. One of the ring girls flashes him a huge smile as she holds the cage door open for him. He enters the Octagon as the clang behind him reminds him he’s gone beyond the point of no return.
SHU is on the opposite side of the cage listening to his trainer through the wire mesh. The head referee walks into the center of the Octagon and motions for the fighters to join him. Jake joins the ref and the SHU in the middle and only barely pays attention as the head ref advises them to make it a clean fight. Jake and his opponent are locked in one final psych out; a stare down to end all stare downs as each man strives to ferret out a weakness in the other man’s psychological defenses. It’s a time to size each other up. They haven’t stood together since the weigh ins two weeks ago. From the looks of it, SHU has about two inches on Jake when it comes to height and another couple inches reach. Pound for pound the men are evenly matched. SHU is just a little bit skinnier than Jake but not by much. The ref has the man touch gloves briefly before he drops his hand starting the fight.
Both fighters take a couple steps back as they continue to size each other up. Just about every fight is won or lost before the first punch or kick is ever thrown. That’s why you see so much attitude in the many months that sometimes lead up to a particular fight. Then the psychological gloves really come off in the weigh ins where both men are allowed a stare down as photographers get to take their pictures. Once in a while even the weigh ins turn into an unscripted street brawl but it’s heavily discouraged and fighters are usually met with heavy fines when that happens. Save it for the mat they’re told.
When opponents are so evenly matched like tonight a fight isn’t always decided before the first strike. The crowd encourages the combatants with chants of blood and mayhem but it doesn’t seem to sway the fighters. They’ll go when they’re good and ready.
Twenty long seconds into round one the physical bout begins. Almost simultaneously both me launch themselves at each other. The hand striking is blindingly fast. Even those closest to the cage cannot really follow the action. At best they can see a blur of fists and well-muscled bodies reacting to the shock of impact. Heads snap back, blood sprays, and the occasional grunt or groan can be heard above the rabid fans own bloodlust. And then it happens. Jake is backpedaling and SHU is charging ahead slamming his fists into Jake’s head with astonishing speed and power. Jake’s head snaps back, then whips from side to side as he’s rocked by a pair of iron fists.
With a crash Jake is slammed up against the wire cage of the Octagon. He literally bounces off and right into a powerful roundhouse kick to the left side of his head. The blow spins Jake’s whole body around so that he falls face first back into the wire mesh of the cage. Two more blows land on his kidneys causing his body to arch backwards and into SHU’s body. SHU hooks his right arm around Jake’s neck and spins him around throwing him to the mat where he lands with his back on SHU’s chest where the powerful man is cutting off his air supply. The fight will be over in a matter of seconds.
Then the unthinkable happens. SHU’s arm across Jake’s neck, slick with sweat and blood loses its vice-like grip on his opponent allowing Jake to lift his head up to where his chin touches his chest. Before SHU can renew his grip Jake slams the back of his head violently against SHU’s nose. The force of the blow seems to stun both men momentarily and for a second both fighters just lie there like dead men. Jake recovers first. He rolls off SHU’s chest and gets shakily to his feet as he takes a step back from SHU as the man also gets to his feet. Both fighters eye one another wearily, circling, looking for a weakness in the other’s defenses.
Suddenly both men charge the other man. The crowd roars as the men pummel each other senseless. After a blur of strikes both men practically bounce off each other, taking a couple steps back, then the bell sounds and round one is finally over.
“What the hell’s going on with you?” Brad, Jake’s new Surge manager hisses at his exhausted fighter.
“Where’s my trainer?” Jake asks between gasps.
“I don’t know…he’s coming. He’ll be here. Now why’s this guy kicking your ass?”
“Oh I don’t know, he’s ten years younger than me and more experienced maybe. I don’t have my second pair of eyes like I usually do. You tell me manager, what do you see out there? He’s got height and two inches reach on me.”
“Oh man don’t tell me you haven’t heard that saying about the fight in the dog?”
“Lemme guess, it’s not the size of the dog in the fight but the size of the fight in the dog. Seriously, is that all you got for me, some tired over used metaphor?”
“Right now SHU is the bigger dog with the bigger fight in him. The odds favor you Mr. Punisher, now go out there and punish!”
Just as he finishes his little pep talk the bell rings and Jake gets to his feet, glancing around the crowd for Christine but can’t locate her.
Just then one of the arena’s security guards walks up with a paper in his hands. Brad turns to him and glares.
“What the hell are you doing here? Don’t tell me, the guy’s got a death threat now or something?”
“No just a message.”
“What? Message for whom?” The manager asks.
“It’s for Jake.”
“I can’t be passing messages back and forth. I could get in a lot of trouble here.”
The guard thrusts the paper in the manager’s hands, along with three of his half one hundred dollar bills. “Here, you’ll get the other half when the message is delivered.”
Having passed the message to Jake’s corner the guard turns to leave before anyone else takes notice and Brad, he throws the three half bills and the wadded up note on the floor at his feet. He has a fight to win. He does not have time to pass notes back and forth like some third grader at school.
Whether it was Brad’s impromptu pep talk or just Jake being Jake, but he comes out of his corner in round two a changed man. Within seconds Jake has SHU up against the cage and he’s literally tearing the other man apart. Brad in Jake’s corner is jumping up and down and screaming encouragement to his fighter.
“Finish him now!” He screams over the roar of the crowd. “Do it now Jake!”
And it appears that Jake The Punisher is going to do it now as SHU staggers about beneath the older man’s punishing blows. The crowd chants as they wait for the east coast fighter to get his head handed to him by their own we
st coast fighter The Punisher. If Jake only knew how close he was to ending his young friend’s short life. It seems fate is going to be one cruel mistress tonight.
But sometimes the tempo of a fight can change like the wind and when an ill wind blows your way you’d better look out.
In one last desperate attempt to stop Jakes onslaught SHU spins around, using his twirling momentum he fires off a deadly elbow strike to the left side of Jake’s head and the older man drops to the mat stunned and for a few seconds motionless. Lucky for him SHU is so startled by the sudden turn of events he doesn’t immediately drop on The Punisher. A move that surely would have finished off the older man. Instead he hesitates and that gives the referees the chance to jump in and stop the fight. Immediately the head referee is on the mat next to the fallen fighter. After a precious few seconds he raises his fist ready to pound the mat signifying the end of the bout when Jake suddenly shake his head, opens his eyes and scrambles to his feet.
SHU, believing the fight to be over has turned his back on the other man. The sudden roar of the crowd causes him to turn in a hurry just as Jake launches himself at his opponent. Like drunken men the two fighters grab, grapple, and lash out at one another but are too spent for either man to finish the fight before the bell rings.
“You got him!” Jake’s new manager hollers. “Look at him when you go back in. His left eye is completely swollen shut. Just attack from that side and he’ll never see anything coming. While you’ve got energy just charge in there and finish the fight. Should take you all of two seconds. You got him man, you seriously got him!”
Crouched on his stool Jake takes it all in, listening to his manager’s advice until he notices something strange beneath his feet. Lying on the ground are what appears to be several hundred dollars and a wadded up piece of paper. He reaches down and scoops up the paper and one of the bills. When he notices it to be just one half he drops the bill and focuses on the note.
Party down on the third floor…
It takes a second for his bruised unfocussed brain to make sense of the note. He knows it’s from Jake and there’s some serious reason that his long-time friend and trainer is not here tonight. Something is very wrong. He remembers back to his early days of their training together and his trainer’s talk about the Blood Sport circuit.
”Fighting on the Blood Sport circuit is not always what it seems Jakey. Sometimes it’s even better to lose. But you’re not going to know when to make that call so I’ll do it for you. Just you remember this. Whatever I ask you to do will be with your best interests in mind. So if I say to you, or if anyone says to you, party down on the second floor, what does that mean to you?”
“It means,” Says his 14 yr. old protégé, “that I am to throw the fight in the second round no matter what.”
“That’s right.” Jamarcus replies. “And if it says party up?”
“I have to win the fight but only on the specified floor slash round.”
“You’re a good man Jakey. You’ll go far in this business; very far.”
Jake wads up the note from Jamarcus and throws in into a bucket of water in the corner. The bell rings and he gets up off his stool. Time to throw a fight.
SHU comes out of his corner like a man possessed; a man with only one eye however. Jake has a stunning advantage that a caliber fighter like himself should easily be able to capitalize on. And that’s why it’s going to make losing the fight in this round very difficult if he’s going to be able to avoid suspicion.
Jake comes at SHU from the man’s left side. Avoiding that will seriously point the fingers of suspicion in his direction. He does his best to drop his guard at the appropriate time while taking some of the heat off his own punches. It’s a tough thing to do when every fiber of your being is telling you to put all you got in every strike. It’s just a natural response to the pain of the punishment you’re receiving. Several times he has SHU rocking back on his heels. One time he even fakes slipping on some blood to give the other fighter time to recover from a particularly nasty blow to his left jaw.
Back in Jake’s corner his manager is becoming more desperate. Why hasn’t his fighter finished the fight? How is it that SHU is still standing?
Jake is doing everything he can to make credible missteps hoping that his opponent will capitalize on them and sometimes he does and sometimes he doesn’t. It’s tough in a fight to keep track of elapsed time in a round but experienced fighter often have a pretty good idea of how much time they’ve got to either survive a fight or close one out. SHU does not look like he’s going to be able to close this one out. Jake can literally hear the clock ticking down the last seconds and he figures he has one last chance to party down on the third.
He positions himself to where his standing a step away from a particularly slippery spot on the mat. All he can do is step, slip, and pray that this time SHU takes advantage of it. Jake steps hard with his left foot so he pitches off to SHU’s right ensuring at least the man will see it with his good eye. As Jake’s left foot shoots out from beneath him he drops his left hand to break his fall. It’s a move that any normal person watching the fight would do; just not a trained fighter. This time SHU sees his one shot and pounces like a panther on the scent of fresh blood. For Jake leaving his face unprotected even for a split second goes against everything he has ever learned as a fighter. He keeps that guard down just long enough until he feels an explosion of pain rock his head as SHU attacks unmercifully. Suddenly blows are raining down on Jakes unprotected head until everything goes quiet and the arena fades from his open eyes.
When his hearing comes back to him Jake is vaguely aware of him lying flat on his back and moving. When he opens his eyes he sees the concerned faces of the event doctors looking down at him as medics carry him back to the medical area. There’s another face looking down at him; it’s Brad his new manager. Brad is angry. He is literally vibrating with rage and in his hand he holds a piece of wet paper along with a half of a one hundred dollar bill.
Brad waits patiently as the doctors check over Jake and pronounce him free of serious injury. It’s nothing they don’t see every night after a fight. Brad gives the doctors permission to turn over the fighter to his manager and they excuse themselves. Brian unloads on the prostrate fighter.
“What the fuck is this?” He shouts as little spittle from his open mouth showers Jakes bloody swollen face. “What did this note say asshole?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure it didn’t say asshole.” Jake says.
“And what’s this?” He asks, holding the half c-note in front of Jake’s face.
“Looks like you’re missing the other half of your paycheck for tonight’s work.” Jake says with a smirk.
Immediately Brad cocks his fist back, barely stopping himself from pummeling his fighter. His bosses would not take kindly to him working over their losing fighter even if he was suspected of throwing the fight.
“You threw the fight didn’t you asshole?” Brad accuses, still holding the bill in front of Jake’s face.
“For a hundred bucks? Well, half of a hundred bucks. Now if I’m going to throw a fight you at least gotta pay me what I would have made by winning. I think I stood to make more than a half a hundred dollar bill if I’m not mistaken.”
“And what was written on the note?” He shoves it in Jake’s face again.
Jake takes the note praying that the water got rid of anything incriminating. The only word left was party.
“What makes you think that note was for me?”
“Because one of the arena security guards tried to pass it to me after the second round was finished. He handed me the note and three hundred dollar bills that had been torn in half. He said I would get the other halves if I delivered the note to you. Now I’ll ask you again, what did the note say?”
“Did you deliver the note to me?” Jake asks.
“You know I didn’t. That would have been in violation of Surge regulations.”
“Then how am I suppos
ed to know what the note said, genius?”
“Fuck!” Brad screams and stomps away from the fallen fighter before he loses control and attacks the man.
“Wish I could help ya Bradley, but I just have no idea what was on the note or who could have sent it. I guess you should have read the note when you received it.”
Brad slams his fist into one of the lockers then swears in pain holding his fist in his other hand. “I’m going to get to the bottom of his Jake and if I find that you threw the fight you’re finished. And I’m not just talking about being finished with Surge, but finished as a fighter. You won’t even be able to get fights in the Blood Sport circuit.”
Having said his last bit he walks out of the locker rooms slamming the door behind him.
“Well that could have gone better.” Jake says to himself. “Yeah that could have gone way better.”
Chapter Sixteen
In Limbo
When Jamarcus, Diego, and I reach our hotel I invite the old trainer to crash on the couch.
“It’s late and we’ve all been through hell.” I explain to him.
“As tempting as that is, I think I better go find my fighter and make sure he’s all in one piece. He’ll be wanting an explanation on why he had to throw the fight; if that’s what he did. For all we know it could have been just good luck for us. But if he got the message he’ll be awake all night if I don’t reach him with an explanation.”
“Won’t he just check the messages on his cell phone?”
“I didn’t think of that. Although I’m pretty sure the battery is dead so I still need to have a sit down with him. I owe him that. If he did get the messages he’ll want to know if Diego is okay. Have you gotten any calls from him on your regular phone?”
“Not a one.”
“Well he may not be thinking very clearly right now. Winning a fight takes a lot out of you but losing one; that takes everything you got.”
“Well why don’t you take my rental then? We’re not going anywhere tomorrow. I think we’re going to just hunker down for a while. I don’t know when it will be safe for us to go out again. I still have questions that need answering and I’d like to talk to Jake as soon as he is up for it.”