Plays from Vault
Page 14
MICKEY. Bloody hope so. Can’t work in an industry where no one trusts you.
DREW. Who else? Let’s think big.
MICKEY. Hold on, before we carry on with this I could… use a break. Shall we get a drink?
JOEY. Go on then.
MICKEY. Whose round is it?
JOEY. Yours. It’s always bloody yours.
MICKEY. All right, all right. (Beat.) But let’s keep going with this first. We need to find someone.
JOEY. Mike Dennit?
MICKEY. He’s thirty-something, Joe. What are we going to do with that?
JOEY. Well, exactly, think about it, he’s established. We can book fights using his name and we all get paid. Beats scrabbling around trying to build some kid’s reputation.
DREW. And in two years’ time we’re back at this table in the same situation just with another boxer who everyone saw get knocked about on our watch. We don’t want old, we don’t want established, we need something new. Something that can grow.
JOEY. Well, help me out, Drew, refresh my memory, how did you get started again?
MICKEY sniggers.
DREW. I never got past club level really. I wasn’t made for boxing.
JOEY. Shocker.
DREW. Because you were such a star.
JOEY. I went professional.
DREW. For five years. And how many fights did you win?
JOEY. At least I went for it.
DREW. But you ended up in the same place as me.
MICKEY. Which is nowhere.
The confrontation subsides.
DREW. Mick, you did all right when you were younger, how did you get signed?
MICKEY. I got picked up at an amateur night when I was eighteen.
DREW. Well, there we are. Let’s get to an amateur night, see what’s there.
JOEY. No, no, no. If we go down that road we’ll end up with some lanky teenager who still needs toilet training.
DREW. And if we keep going through our phone book we’ll end up with some old git who’s already got the shakes.
JOEY. Mick?
MICKEY. Well, we’re not getting anywhere with people we know.
Let’s give it a look.
The scenes quickly transitions to ‘The Amateur Night’. MICKEY, JOEY and DREW sit facing out to the audience as if watching a fight.
Scene Two
A bell sounds to start the fight.
DREW. They’ve had this place redone.
JOEY. They have indeed.
DREW. Used to be a right mess, remember? I don’t recognise anyone here.
MICKEY. Well, it’s been a while since we last showed an interest in amateurs.
JOEY. Let’s not make a habit of it. Right, says here they’ve got fifteen three-round fights, means we’ll see thirty boxers in total, what are we after?
MICKEY. I say middleweight to light-heavyweight.
DREW. Yeah. I can see that. Around the twelve-stone mark.
MICKEY. Not so big he’ll be slow but broad enough to pack a punch.
JOEY. Well, these two are featherweights so ignore them.
DREW. We want a worker too. Like Harry Coles, remember? A proper grafter.
JOEY. Okay good, good. Age?
MICKEY. Younger the better.
DREW. But he needs a chin. No good to us if he gets knocked out all the time.
Three bells.
MICKEY. Case in point.
DREW. Saw that one coming a mile off.
JOEY. We could talk to that bloke.
DREW. Nah look at him. Got to be late twenties, we need a bit of youth.
MICKEY. Exactly. It’s a fresh start, Drew, we don’t want anyone else’s bad habits.
DREW. What are these new guys?
JOEY (checks programme). Welterweights.
DREW. Little on the light side.
MICKEY. Let’s not be picky, if we see someone good we get after them before any of the other managers here do.
DREW. We’ll have to be quick.
JOEY. Train them up, turn pro and start booking some fights.
MICKEY. Nice little earner for the next ten years.
DREW. Fifteen if we’re lucky.
MICKEY. God, wouldn’t that be nice. A journeyman with a good reputation and regular fights.
JOEY. If we could get two or three on the books we’d be –
They all shoot up. Something impressive has just happened in the ring.
MICKEY. Oh!
DREW. Jesus Christ.
JOEY. Big right hand.
DREW. Where did that come from?
JOEY. And again! And again!
MICKEY. Fuck me he’s fast!
JOEY. They’re going to stop the fight!
MICKEY springs into action.
MICKEY. Who is he?
They all look to JOEY.
JOEY. Uh… right, well, says here it’s Ferdinand in the ivory trunks and Sparks in the… the noyer?
MICKEY. What the fuck is noyer?
JOEY. I dunno. Ivory is going to be grey, isn’t it? Because an elephant is grey.
Beat. They look at the ring.
MICKEY. No one’s wearing grey, you tit! I see white shorts and purple shorts.
DREW. Purple shorts! We want purple, that’s what magenta is.
MICKEY. Right and what’s his name?
JOEY. Sid Sparks. Go get him!
MICKEY. Where’s he gone?
DREW. The changing rooms.
JOEY. Get going, Mick!
MICKEY. Jesus, fuck, how do I look?
DREW. Fine, fine. Have you got a contract?
MICKEY. Bollocks.
JOEY. Jesus Christ.
MICKEY. All right.
JOEY. One thing you had to remember.
MICKEY. All right!
DREW. Look, just get a bloody handshake. Guilt him into hanging on, we can get him a contract on Monday.
MICKEY. Right, any of you got a tenner?
JOEY. Get out!
MICKEY. It’s a good-faith payment. I’ll tell him there’s more to come. No kid turns their back on money.
JOEY. It’s not coming out of my pocket.
DREW quickly hands over ten pounds.
MICKEY. Okay, right, Joey, come with me, stand outside and say you’re the doctor. Make sure no one else comes in.
They break.
Scene Three
The scene resolves itself into ‘The Changing Room’. DREW/DOCTOR is giving SID the once-over, checking eye movement, looking for any cuts.
DREW/DOCTOR. And look into the light.
SID does so.
Okay, and turn your head left.
MICKEY enters behind them.
Any headaches? Pains in the body?
SID shakes his head.
Well, looks like you avoided any damage.
MICKEY. Next fight’s about to start, doctor, they need you ringside.
DREW/DOCTOR. Right. Right you are. (Turns to SID.)
Congratulations, well fought, Sam.
SID. Sid.
Beat.
DREW/DOCTOR. Yes, of course.
DREW exits, leaving MICKEY and SID.
MICKEY. You want a team that knows your name, Sid.
SID. Who are you?
MICKEY. Mickey Donovan. You ever heard of me?
SID shakes his head.
Okay, not to worry. I’m a manager, I run a team of three other trainers and we all just saw your fight.
SID. Oh yeah?
MICKEY (hums ascent). It was a good fight, good stoppage. Pretty lucky but good nonetheless.
SID. Come off it. It was a great shot.
MICKEY. I’m not saying it wasn’t a good punch. I’m just saying he walked into it.
SID. Why’d he do that?
MICKEY. That’s between him and his team.
SID. I think you’re talking bollocks.
MICKEY. Well, you’re wrong.
Beat.
Are you still in school, Sid?
SID. I’m twenty-one.
MICKEY. Ah. You looked a lot younger out there.
SID. Where were you sat?
MICKEY. Ringside.
SID. I didn’t see you.
Beat.
MICKEY. Do you work, Sid?
SID. Apprenticeship.
MICKEY. In what?
SID. Electrical repairs.
MICKEY. I see. Pay well?
SID. It will when they employ me full time.
MICKEY. And when will that be?
SID. A year at most.
MICKEY. You sound very sure, quite cocky for an apprentice.
SID. I’m good with my hands.
MICKEY. I knew that already, Sid.
Beat.
I’ve got an idea for you. We were all very impressed with how you boxed out there but you’re still a long way off where you need to be if you want to make some money out of this. But we all think that, given the right guidance, you could do very well for yourself, have a back-up in case that illustrious career in repairs doesn’t come off. So here’s what I’m proposing, come on board with us, we’ll get you out of the workshop, train you up and turn you pro.
SID. I need the work.
MICKEY. Once you’ve turned professional the money comes in.
SID. Only if I win.
MICKEY. Not at all, plenty of journeymen make a good wage.
SID. What so I’ll get paid to lose?
MICKEY. No, you’ll get paid to fight in front of hundreds of people.
SID. But as filler.
MICKEY (shrugging). Lose some of the time, win some of the time.
SID. Lose most of the time.
MICKEY. Or you could spend your life fixing lamps and old ladies’ radios. Then you’ll be a loser all of the time.
Pause. SID thinks.
I’d bet you a fair amount that when that bell went, and the ref lifted up your arm you felt a special little thump right around here, where your ribs meet. (Points to his solar plexus.) Like you were the greatest thing that ever lived. I can give you that every day, and I can pay you for it. You’ve just got to box for me.
Pause.
SID. I need to ask my mum.
MICKEY. Fair enough. And if she says yes?
Beat.
SID. I’ll do it.
MICKEY. Good boy. Where are you training?
SID. Riley’s Boxing Club.
MICKEY. I know the one. Me and my team will come by on Monday morning to give you a contract and start working. Don’t forget, don’t be late and don’t tell anyone what you’re doing until we show up, okay?
SID. Yes.
MICKEY. Good. (Gives him the ten pounds.) That’s for tonight. Spend some of it on your mum.
Beat.
Shake my hand.
He puts his hand out. SID takes it, MICKEY holds on.
When boys like you break promises like these it has a way of coming back to haunt them. So don’t go running off with any flash gits in suits waving pieces of paper at you, got it?
SID nods. They shake. The scene very quickly snaps back to ‘The Amateur Night’ with all three in a line watching the ring.
DREW. And where’s he training?
MICKEY. Riley’s in Borough.
DREW. I hate that place.
MICKEY. Well done, Joe. Didn’t hear a peep out of anyone else.
JOEY. Wasn’t much of a problem in the end.
DREW. Just after you left some kid named Ricky Burns put on an absolute masterclass.
MICKEY. Oh yeah?
DREW. Best I’ve ever seen. Flattened his bloke in the first round. Doctor was only thirty seconds late but nearly missed the whole thing.
JOEY. Look he’s only just coming to now, poor kid.
MICKEY. Well, where’s this Burns guy then? We could make it two in a night!
DREW. Doubt that. He’s right there with the bigger boys. No wonder he’s smiling.
MICKEY. Oh.
DREW. Yep. No one was that interested in our bloke after they’d seen that.
DREW steps forward. Monologue state.
Scene Four
DREW. We signed Sid Sparks to make us money. That was the main reason. He was incredibly fast, and the thing with quick fighters is that they don’t get hit so much, means they fight more, means they make you more money. But the first time I saw him, I really didn’t think that much of him. He was an investment, and one Mickey was very keen to cash in on. He’d been talking with this promoter in Brighton who ran a local club. Anyone who came down and made a fight of it got five hundred pounds no questions asked. Way we saw it, Sid got his professional debut, we all got a hundred pounds and if it went well we could start building Sid’s reputation as a journeyman. Journeymen are the backbone of boxing, most people only ever hear about the champions and the contenders, the cream of the crop. But the beating heart of this business are the guys you never heard of who fight any opponent and expect to lose. If a journeyman gets a good reputation he can make a nice living out of losing, build a career. But at that point Sid had no reputation, no history and therefore no say over who he was fighting. Which is a very dangerous thing. So only three weeks after signing him, we all went down to Brighton for Sid Sparks’ professional debut.
Scene Five
MICKEY, DREW and JOEY snap into a line looking diagonally across the ring at an imaginary boxer of epic proportion. SID warms up behind them, out of earshot. The mood is one of fear and tension.
JOEY. Jesus Christ.
DREW. Oh bollocks.
MICKEY. I know.
DREW. No way on earth is that man a welterweight.
JOEY. He’s massive.
MICKEY. I know.
JOEY. He’s gonna kill him.
MICKEY. Shut up, Joe.
JOEY. Well, he is. Look at the fucking size of him!
DREW. He’s gotta be six two.
JOEY. Did you know this was who he’d be fighting?
MICKEY. Did I know he’d be fighting the Incredible bloody Hulk? No, Joe, they failed to mention that.
JOEY. Oh my God.
DREW. This is not good, Mick.
MICKEY. I know.
DREW. I mean this is not a smart move.
JOEY. It’s his debut for Christ’s sake.
MICKEY. Right, all of you shut up. No more talk about Sid getting hurt, he doesn’t need to hear it.
JOEY. We should pull the fight, Mick, we should let him back out.
MICKEY. And how do we get paid if he doesn’t fight? If he doesn’t go in there we leave with nothing so stop crying and start getting him ready. No one will expect him to last long so if he can make a fight of the first few rounds we’ll still get that five hundred. Okay? Bring him in.
MICKEY and DREW turn to collect SID. JOEY becomes the REF, who walks to the front of the stage to deliver instructions to the boxers. All four actors look up to give the idea of the size of the opponent.
JOEY/REF (with great relish). All right. I want a clean fight. Nothing below the belt, no heads and no elbows. When I say break I want a good break. In the event of a knockdown the aggressor must go to a neutral corner and I will start the count of ten. Obey my commands and protect yourself at all times. Touch gloves and come out fighting.
They go to break.
DREW. How you feeling, kid?
SID nods. Massaging. He begins to bounce and limber up. Shadow-boxing.
MICKEY. All right, Sid. Time for you to dance. Stay off him for a while. Lead with the left for the first few and keep moving. We can start poking at him when you’ve found your range.
SID nods.
Come here. (Grabbing him closer.) There’s no shame in going down a little easy. No one wants to see you get hurt.
MICKEY inserts the gumshield. SID turns back, stands, and begins to focus across the stage at his opponent.
JOEY. Let’s be busy, Sid.
DREW. Stay on your toes, watch him tire.
MICKEY. Pop, pop, pop just like we practised, yeah?
The bell rings. SID trots ou
t into ‘The Ring’ offstage, controlled and confident. (Note, at no point do we see SID actually fighting.)
They watch. DREW steps forward.
DREW. That night Sid threw two hundred and fifty punches landing an incredible hundred and thirty-five. He didn’t put a foot wrong all night. And we watched, absolutely dumbfounded as this kid came to life under the lights. Before he’d been some kid with quick hands but now… now he was different. Suddenly we realised there was more to Sid than just a journeyman, we’d been sat on a gold mine and not seen it.
Beat.
After that first fight we stayed in the south of England for about a year, fighting regularly and winning, so by the time we returned to London he was already more successful than any boxer we’d managed before. He was a name, which was great for the fights, but it meant he became part of a world that we knew nothing about. Cameras and contracts to fight guys high up in the rankings. And we didn’t know how to handle it. On the one hand we wanted to enjoy the success, the glitz and all that, but on the other we could see it was getting to Sid. To go from nothing to a name in eighteen months threw him, and it threw some of us. Mickey though, he didn’t blink, he was constantly at every other boxer around. If they were higher than Sid in the rankings he’d do everything he could to make them fight, so the bouts got harder and harder. After one year in London Sid Sparks was ranked as the twelfth best welterweight in the UK and set to fight Mark Hayward, one of the biggest names of the last generation. And we were just about holding on to him.
Scene Six
The scene changes to ‘The Press Conference’. MICKEY, JOEY and SID sit in a line. JOEY and MICKEY are covering all the questions that SID fails to answer and loving the attention.
DREW/REPORTER. Sid! Next week you fight Mark Hayward to solidify your place as a top-ten British boxer, nervous?
Beat. SID doesn’t answer.
JOEY. Of course we’re not. Sid Sparks is the next generation of British boxing and we’re ready to show that.
MICKEY (painfully pensively). Yeah, and I think what my colleague is trying to say is that it’s all about hard work so we’ve got no reason to be nervous.
DREW/REPORTER. Is that right, Sid? You’re not concerned about the gulf in experience?
Beat.
MICKEY. You see experience, we see age. Thirty-eight is not young.
DREW/REPORTER. So you think you can do it? Beat one of the most decorated boxers in British history?