“Not if he keeps this up. But it’s only the first round,” Ripp responded.
My stomach was in knots. I wanted this to be over. Thinking of Shane losing was sad, but the thought of him being hurt was something I could not even fathom.
Kelsey put Shane’s mouthpiece back into his mouth and looked like he was scolding him. Kelsey had stood and screamed at Shane for most of the first round. I wondered if he was mad at Shane, or if this was something trainers did in the big fights to encourage a fighter to fight harder. According to Ripp, Shane became the devil in the ring. Nobody should be able to beat the devil. Not in a boxing match.
Ding!
Shane immediately went to the center of the ring, and Mc Claskey pushed him and punched him toward the corner of the ring.
“Stay out of that corner. He’ll kill ya’, Dekk,” Ripp screamed.
Within a few seconds Mc Claskey had Shane in the corner, smashing him against the ropes. Shane’s hands were covering his face, and the other fighter was swinging his fists wildly into Shane’s arms and stomach. Seeing him beaten like this was very difficult for me.
“Push him off, god damn it, Dekk. Get outta the corner,” Ripp screamed.
Mc Claskey’s feet shuffled, and Shane pushed against him. At the same time, Shane swiveled his body and moved around Mc Claskey. As he did, he went to the center of the ring and began to bounce up and down on his feet.
Thank God.
My heart started racing as soon as Shane got out of the corner. Mc Claskey was now in the center of the ring, pushing against Shane with his fists held up against his face. As he pushed against Shane with his forearms, Shane swung wildly into his mid-section and threw a few wild uppercuts that missed.
“Get him baby!” I screamed.
I slapped Ripp’s shoulder and squealed, “He’s getting him, Ripp. He’s getting him.”
Mc Claskey swung a punch up into Shane’s jaw, and it forced his head back sharply. Shane stumbled, and as soon as he did, I heard Ripp.
“Oh, god damn,” Ripp mumbled.
“What?’ I turned toward Ripp.
“Oh fuck,” Ripp responded as he stared at the ring.
His hands quickly covered his mouth. I turned back to the fight. Mc Claskey jabbed toward Shane, hitting him directly in the face as Shane was stepping away from him. As soon as the punch hit Shane, he went down to the mat.
“Oh my God. Oh my God, Ripp. He’s hurt!” I screamed.
Seeing Shane down on the mat was unsettling to me. I didn’t think Shane has ever been knocked down, ever. He says, never been down and never been out, which means he’s never been knocked down and never been knocked out. He’s undefeated for a reason. Shane was better than this, something was wrong. I reached in my pocket, closed my eyes, and rubbed the dog tags again.
Please, God. Make Shane see what he always sees. Make him understand what to do to keep from getting hurt. I am not asking you to have him win this fight. All I want, Lord, is for you to make him understand what he always understands. Make him see what he always sees. I love him Lord, don’t let him get hurt or die.
Amen.
“Good, thank God,” Ripp said as he pulled his hands from his mouth.
“What?” I asked as Shane quickly stood up.
“See how the referee waved his hands?” he asked as he pointed toward the ring.
I hadn’t seen it, but I agreed, “Yeah.”
“The Referee ruled it a slip, not a knockdown. Thank God. If this goes to the cards, that’d kill him,” Ripp whispered.
“Oh. Good,” I whispered back.
“Get him babe,” I screamed.
Shane was covered in sweat and his arm muscles were flexing each time he threw a swing or got close to the other fighter and defended himself. Seeing him hit the other fighter was exciting and made me wish he would start doing better. This Mc Claskey guy was huge and I didn’t like him beating on Shane.
Ding!
As soon as Shane came to the corner, Kelsey started yelling at him. Kelsey screamed at Shane the entire break. He even hit Shane’s arm a few times as he screamed. He turned and pointed toward Ripp and I a few times as he screamed at Shane. I didn’t like seeing Kelsey or Shane like this.
The third round and the start of the fourth round were just like the first two rounds. Shane and Mc Claskey traded punches, and there was no real progress made by Shane toward winning. A few times, Mc Claskey got Shane into the corner. According to Ripp, it’s impossible to get Shane in the corner. Ripp said something was wrong with Shane. I wondered about what had changed since Shane’s last fight.
The dog tags.
This was the first fight he hadn’t had the dog tags during a fight.
He doesn’t know they’re here.
Maybe he needs to know I brought them.
Or.
I considered maybe my being selfish and bringing the dog tags to the fight was causing him lose. Maybe he didn’t want them for a reason. I began to wonder if my bringing the dog tags was causing Shane to fight poorly. As the fourth round was coming close to the end, I considered walking to the trash barrel by the ring and throwing them away. I looked up at the fight. As Shane stepped from the corner, Mc Claskey swung a wild punch toward Shane. The punch caught Shane’s shoulder as he was stepping away, and Shane went down to the mat again.
“It was a slip, Ref, it was a fucking slip,” Ripp screamed.
I screeched as Shane hit the mat. The referee waved his arms, ruling it a slip.
“Oh shit, Kelsey’s hollering for me. I’ll be right back,” Ripp said as he stepped out of his seat and walked to the corner of the ring.
Ripp and Kelsey talked as Shane and Mc Claskey traded punches. Kelsey screamed at Ripp, pointed at Shane, and pointed at me. I could not tell what he was screaming about, but he seemed very angry. Ripp came back to his seat looking frantic.
“Kelsey wants us to find someone with dog tags, shorty. We need to find someone with dog tags quick. Kelsey needs to try and get Shane invested in this fight, and he thinks Shane not having his dog tags is the difference,” Ripp pleaded as he looked around the arena.
I swallowed a lump in my throat.
“I have Shane’s dog tags,” I said as I reached into my pocket.
“The dog tags?” he asked.
I nodded, somewhat embarrassed, “Yes, I dug them out of the trash.”
“Holy fuck. C’mon,” he demanded as he grabbed my arm.
As we started walking toward Kelsey, I pulled the dog tags from my pocket. Ripp took me right to the corner by Kelsey. I was embarrassed and filled with shame.
“Boss, she’s got Dekk’s dog tags. The tags,” Ripp said as he grabbed my wrist, holding my hand up for Kelsey to see.
“Praise the fucking Lord. Alright, listen to me,” he demanded as he grabbed my face with his hands.
“Fucking listen,” he screamed at me as the bell sounded.
Ding!
“We’ve got one fucking minute, you’ve got about thirty seconds of that minute. Say something meaningful to him. And god damn it Kace, make it count,” he growled.
Kelsey released my face and turned toward the ring. I looked up as Shane came to the corner. Kelsey screamed at Shane and Shane spit in the bucket. He gave Shane water from the bottle and I stepped toward the ring with the dog tags in my hand.
“Hey kid, lookie here,” Kelsey said as he stepped to Shane’s side and pointed toward me.
“Shane,” I said quietly, attempting to get Shane’s attention.
Without thinking, I held the dog tags behind my back and started talking. I let my mind and my mouth just flow, saying whatever came to mind. For once in my life, what I thought, felt, and said were the same. Nothing got jumbled, and everything just came out.
“Your father fought his demons in the war, Shane. He made peace with himself, God, and probably your mother before or maybe just as he died. He fought in that war to make everything that was jumbled up inside his head make some kind of sense. Y
ou fight your demons in the boxing ring, babe. You wore these dog tags for years as a tribute to your father. The person he was hasn’t changed. It’s just your perception, Shane. He chose to fight in the war. He volunteered. He did it to make you proud of him. Now, it’s your turn. Do your god damned job. Make him proud.”
I moved my hand from behind my back, producing the dog tags. I dangled them in front of Shane as I began to cry.
Sitting on his stool, Shane glanced at Ripp, turned toward Kelsey, and pounded his fists together; holding the dog tags between his gloves. Kelsey reached toward Shane’s mouth with the mouthpiece. Shane shook his head and released the dog tags into my hands.
“I got this,” he said toward Ripp and me.
He turned to Kelsey, “My way.”
Kelsey shoved the mouthpiece into Shane’s mouth as the bell rang.
Shane jumped up and shuffled to the center of the ring.
Ripp and I hurried back to our seats. As we got into place, Ripp turned to face me.
“You damn near had me in tears, Shorty. You did real well. Now, hold those things tight in your hand,” he motioned to the dog tags hanging from the chain in my hand.
I gripped the dog tags and turned to face the ring, Shane was fighting in close with Mc Claskey. Mc Claskey was pounding Shane just like in the other rounds – beating his mid-section and arms. Mc Claskey swung a wild uppercut and missed Shane’s chin by an inch as Shane leaned away from the punch.
Mc Claskey worked Shane into the corner and began clenching him – almost hugging him as they pressed against the ropes in the corner of the ring. Both fighters were covered in sweat, their muscles twitching as they pressed against each other and threw the occasional punch.
“He’s tired, Shorty. That big fucker’s tired, he’s clenching him. Dekk’s no fool,” Ripp screamed as he pointed to the corner where they were fighting.
“Get out of that corner, Dekk. He’s worn out already,” Ripp screamed.
Shane began twisting his body, attempting to break free from between Mc Claskey and the ropes. As Mc Claskey stepped back, Shane broke free, and Mc Claskey fell into the ropes. Shane immediately went to the center of the ring, leaving Mc Claskey at the corner.
Mc Claskey turned, and began to work his way slowly to the center of the ring. As he did, Shane pounded his fists together and curled his gloves toward his chest repeatedly.
“Oh shit,” Ripp laughed.
“He’s taunting him,” he said as he pointed at the ring.
“He’s calling him out. That’s like a slap in the face,” Ripp chuckled.
“C’mon, Dekk!” Ripp screamed.
As soon as Mc Claskey got close enough to Shane to swing, he threw a punch. Shane moved his head to the right, and the punch flew past his head. My heart began to race. As soon as Mc Claskey pulled his hand back, Shane shuffled his feet, and began dancing around Mc Claskey, curling his gloves.
“What the fuck?” Ripp said.
“What?” I asked.
“Well, look. He’s switching it up. He’s switched to orthodox. He’s gonna fight him orthodox. What the fuck’s he doing?” Ripp kind of chuckled as he spoke.
I knew that orthodox meant right handed. Shane could fight both ways, and depending on who he was fighting, would train to fight one way or the other. He had trained to fight this fight left handed - switching his style in the middle of the fight was not normal.
Kelsey began screaming toward the center of the ring.
Mc Claskey worked his way toward Shane. As he approached, Shane hit him in the face and shoulders with a series of quick jabs. Mc Claskey began to raise his gloves, and as soon as he did, Shane hit him in the stomach.
Mc Claskey’s face looked like he’d been shot. Obviously Shane got him with a good one. Shane continued to pummel Mc Claskey’s torso with punches and would swing an uppercut every few punches.
Ripp started screaming.
The entire crowd started to stand up and cheer.
Mc Claskey threw a few short punches and attempted to clutch Shane, holding him in close. Shane pushed his gloves against Mc Claskey and stepped back, freeing himself from his grasp. Immediately, as they separated, Shane hit Mc Claskey with a series of punches – initially to the mid-section and then to the face and shoulders. A wild uppercut barely missed. Mc Claskey offered little if anything in return.
The crowd continued to roar.
Shane stepped back. Mc Claskey approached. As he did, Shane hit him with left and right jabs in the face. As Mc Claskey raised his gloves to his face, Shane hit his gloves. Some of the fans began chanting. I tried to block them out and stay focused on the fight. Shane began to work Mc Claskey’s mid-section harder and harder, hitting him two dozen times to Mc Claskey’s two or three. As soon as Mc Claskey would attempt to fight back, Shane would step aside or away. Mc Claskey seemed to become tired.
Shane was winning now, and my view of the fight changed completely. This was exciting and somewhat erotic, watching Shane beat Mc Claskey like this. I felt myself begin to tingle as Shane beat Mc Claskey’s face with a series of punches.
Get him baby. Get him good.
Shane was covered in sweat and his muscles flared with each swing. His hair was wet. His face, shoulders, legs, and chest - all soaked. Something about a man covered in muscles and sweat really made me feel uneasy.
In a good way.
As Shane continued to beat on Mc Claskey, I began to feel myself getting wet.
Ding!
The crowd began to clap.
“Oh my God, that was exciting,” I looked toward Ripp, smiling.
Ripp was rubbing his bald head and appeared to not even hear me. I turned to watch Shane and Kelsey. Kelsey was screaming at Shane and hitting his shoulders as he squirted water in his mouth.
My heart raced. People started chanting again.
I looked up at the steel structure above us and listened at the chants of the crowd.
Shame…..on!
Shame…..on!
Shame…..on!
Ding!
“Ripp, they’re screaming for Shane!” I screeched as the bell rang.
The crowd continued to cheer. The cheers seemed to fuel Shane. Ripp and Kelsey both had said Shane heard everything as he fought. I squeezed the dog tags between my hands and hoped the cheers gave Shane courage. I turned toward Ripp, who stood shaking his fists in front of his chest.
As I turned back to the ring, Shane stood in the center as Mc Claskey approached. Shane pounded his gloves together.
“Here we go,” Ripp screamed.
Do it again, baby. Do it again.
Chapter 23
SHANE. If this prick thinks he has me figured out, he’s dead wrong.
C’mon, you big son-of-a-bitch.
Mc Claskey approached and held his gloves close to his face. From what I could see in the first rounds, he didn’t have much to counter my speed. Ripp, Kelsey, and Kace probably thought I was crazy in the first four rounds. I had to see what this big fucker was made of.
He’s strong as fuck.
He’s soft.
And he’s slow.
I stepped in close and switched to southpaw.
Here’s where I belong, big boy.
Coming at ya with…
This.
I swung a right hook into his ribs. As he exhaled what little breath might have been in his lungs, his face had a look of surprise his eyes couldn’t hide.
I swung a left cross and caught the bottom of his jaw. As he turned to try to take me to the ropes, I stepped in close and clenched him, holding him still.
What, you big muscled up prick? You don’t like fighting? You wanna wrestle?
He should have known I didn’t like to push and shove. I let go and pushed him off.
I came here to fight.
I unleashed a series of punches to his mid-section - an unanswered barrage of hooks and jabs which would have dropped any previous fighter in my career.
I swung an uppercut,
and barely missed his jaw.
Shame…
On.
Shame…
On.
The crowd cheered my name. I have never been a vain person, but an entire arena chanting my name was something I had never heard before. I hated to admit it, but I liked it. The chanting provided me a reason to show Mc Claskey why I chose boxing as a career.
He attempted to get me off of him with a right jab. An uppercut followed. Both were dodged without much effort. I stepped to his right, and swung a left hook into his ribs.
Oh shit, that felt like it cracked.
I’ve always said the eyes don’t lie. And his didn’t. He was hurt.
I knew what was next.
Lord. Prevent me from…
I swung a right-left hook combo into his torso.
Killing…
I threw a series of jabs to get him off balance.
This big bastard.
I threw my signature left hook into his ribs. He body twisted to his right, and both gloves came down for a fraction of a section. A fraction was all I needed.
I swung a right uppercut that connected directly with the bottom of his jaw. I followed with a left jab and landed solid on the front of his chin. His chin came down just a touch and his gloves dropped completely.
Everything went to slow motion for a moment. I heard the crowd cheering my name. I heard Kelsey pounding the mat, indicating the end of the round being only seconds away. And I heard, clear as day, Mike fucking Ripton scream.
You got this, Dekk!
A few times in my career, I have thrown a punch and regretted it. After they’re thrown, it’s impossible to stop, especially by someone with my speed and strength. The right cross I threw at Mc Claskey’s temple was one of those punches. As soon as I threw it, I realized he was already unconscious. The punch connected on the left side of his temple. His head looked as if it was going to snap off of his neck.
He fell to the mat.
And he did not move.
I vaguely remember seeing the referee step in. I turned toward the crowd. Everyone was on their feet, cheering. I looked at Mc Claskey.
And he did not move.
The referee waved his hands.
And I realized I had gone the distance. Not in this fight, but in my career - and with Kace. The Heavyweight Championship of the world was next. If what I had read was correct, several million people should be watching Mc Claskey and I fight on Pay-Per-View. Without a doubt, I would be a household name overnight. The title fight would bring tens of millions of dollars, even if I lost the bout.
FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME Page 55