Plays from Vault

by Florence Keith-Roach

  JOEY/TYLER. That is super-confident, man.

  DREW/ALEC. God, this is amazing. So, Tyler, go on, tell us, which round do you want Sid to finish Burns?

  Beat.

  JOEY/TYLER. I dunnoooooo man, I just – I dunnooooo. It’s a big thing to ask, y’know?

  DREW/ALEC. You seem overwhelmed by the pressure here, Tyler.

  JOEY/TYLER (looking up). I mean I just caaan’t get over this guy’s spirit. He’s just got so much truth in him, y’know? And I feel like… round eight?

  DREW/ALEC. Eight?

  SID. Eight it is.

  JOEY/TYLER. Oh my God.

  DREW/ALEC. You heard it here first.

  SID. Burns betting be watching so he’s knows when to book a taxi for.

  JOEY/TYLER. Holy hell, man. Boom! You totally got him.

  DREW/ALEC. On that note we’re going to head to quick break, don’t go anywhere, when we come back Jared’s going to sing for us and Sid here is going to give Tyler some boxing lessons for his upcoming film Jailbird 2: The Man Who Flew the Coop, don’t go away.

  They break. JOEY and SID wait for the arrival of MICKEY and DREW in ‘The Gym’, perhaps putting on gloves and pads, ready for work.

  Scene Sixteen

  JOEY. He didn’t.

  SID. He did.

  JOEY. What, he just came out with it after the show?

  SID. The cameras were still running. Band was playing us all out and he just leant over and asked me to do it.

  JOEY. Star in his movie?

  SID. Not star in it, think he wanted me to play a butler or something.

  JOEY. Well, I hope you told him you were busy.

  SID. I did.

  JOEY. In no uncertain terms.

  SID. Absolutely.

  Beat.

  JOEY. Star in a movie. Honestly.

  SID. Act in a movie.

  Beat.

  JOEY. No one ever asked me to star in a movie.

  SID. Well, I’m shocked, Joe, I really am. Hollywood’s poorer for it.

  JOEY. Ah shut up.

  SID. Temper, temper.

  MICKEY and DREW enter.

  JOEY. All right? How did it go?

  DREW. Not great. Mickey rolled over like a bloody dog.

  MICKEY. I did not roll over.

  JOEY. Define ‘not great’.

  SID. I’ll go get changed.

  DREW. No, no, stay here. You need to hear this. They got everything they wanted.

  MICKEY. Drew –

  JOEY. Gloves?

  Beat.

  MICKEY. Twelve ounces.

  Beat.

  SID. Okay.

  JOEY. Fight weight?

  MICKEY. Top weight allowed is a hundred and fifty pounds.

  Silence.

  JOEY. He fights at a hundred and forty-three pounds, Mick.

  MICKEY. I do know that, Joe.

  JOEY. A hundred and forty-three. Means when he steps up to fight Burns he’s going to be seven pounds lighter than him.

  SID. And my gloves will weigh four ounces more than usual. Did you get me anything?

  MICKEY. Asides from thousands of pounds?

  SID. Oh sorry, I didn’t realise money is going to stop him tearing me apart. Did we get anything that will help me in the fight?

  MICKEY. Fifteen rounds.

  Beat.

  They wanted twelve rounds, we got fifteen.

  JOEY. Oh, well, nothing to worry about then. Storm in a teacup.

  MICKEY. Shut up, Joey.

  Silence.

  It’s been two years since Burns had a fight that went past eight rounds. That’s two years of early showers and not running the miles. You think he’ll be ready for fifteen rounds? No. So you’re going to give it to him.

  JOEY. Fifteen rounds won’t mean a thing if Burns catches him in the fifth round and knocks him out, like he knocks everyone out.

  SID. Exactly.

  MICKEY. Well, then we don’t let him, do we? He wants an eight-round brawl? We don’t let him have it.

  JOEY. So the plan, as it stands, is don’t get hit by him?

  MICKEY. Yeah. We work on your feet and your fitness, make it impossible for him to catch you. The full fifteen, that’s the plan. Watch him get more pissed off and more puffed up trying to close you down and then bam! Before he’s seen it coming we win it on points. We box clever. If he wants your unbeaten record he’ll have to wrench it from you.

  Scene Seventeen

  DREW. And action in five, four, three…

  They break. Throughout this scene, SID cuts between commercials and exercises. They should flow seamlessly into each other. The first commercial is for shampoo.

  SID. Hi, I’m Sid Sparks. In boxing you’ve always got to keep a clear head. That’s why I use Head and Shoulders 2in1 shampoo. The combination of cool mint and soothing Aloe Vera –

  DREW. Time!

  SID is skipping and the team watch, giving him encouragement, this carries on for around ten seconds.

  JOEY. And action in five, four, three…

  SID. Hi, I’m Sid Sparks. People often ask me how I stay in such great shape and my answers always the same. Drink British milk. Nothing helps your body like the natural –

  DREW. Time!

  MICKEY and JOEY drag a skipping rope across the stage at head height which SID bounces under throwing ones and twos as he surfaces.

  MICKEY. And action!

  SID. Hi, I’m Sid Sparks.

  Throughout this exchange DREW/CHILD helps SID put on his gloves like an enthusiastic assistant.

  DREW/CHILD. Gee, Mr Sparks, you always look so calm in the ring. How do you do that?

  SID (forced laugh). Well, Timmy, that’s simple. I stay calm because I know that if anything happened to me PLO Life Insurance will ensure my loved ones are taken care of. (Ruffles DREW’s hair.) PLO, always keep your guard up.

  On this final phrase he puts his hands up which, when JOEY calls ‘Time’ stay in place as he does pads with MICKEY pushing him backwards, cutting, slipping and landing lots. Throughout, MICKEY continues to call out combinations.

  DREW. Good. Time.

  They all clap and encourage SID.

  Looked good, light, fast.

  MICKEY. Ready for some running?

  SID nods.

  JOEY. Course is he, look at him. Ricky who, eh? Ricky fucking who?

  MICKEY. That’s right, won’t lay a paw on you. Come on, more to do.

  DREW steps forward.

  DREW. He’d never looked so good. Totally together, no messing around or going out, he was up every morning to run, work in the day and after training he’d go back to Heather. Perfect. Just like when we signed him.

  Beat.

  The others seemed to take it all in their stride, maybe they were focusing on the fight, but it really threw me. I couldn’t get past the fact that we had signed Sid to be a journeyman, a no one, a boxer who gets paid to lose and be forgotten. And then there I was getting phone calls from new up-and-comers and walking into the dressing room at Wembley arena. And it was all because of him, because of Sid. Guess I should have thanked him.

  Scene Eighteen

  Back to ‘The Dressing Room’. JOEY, MICKEY and DREW are getting ready, packing bags, adjusting jackets.

  MICKEY. How we doing, Sid?

  Beat.

  Sid?

  SID appears.

  JOEY. Here he is.

  DREW. Good lad.

  MICKEY. Looking good.

  They start working on him. Warming up his hands, etc. SID begins to bounce.

  Ready?

  SID nods. They face each other. MICKEY throws two elaborate and complex combinations that SID slips, cuts, blocks and evades, finishing each one with a strong counter.

  DREW. Good.

  JOEY. Be busy. Good.

  SID. Feels good.

  MICKEY. Course it does. You’re ready, Sid, you’re ready for this.

  Lots of encouragement, massage, etc. MICKEY pulls SID closer.

  When that
bell goes at the end of round fifteen, where are you going to be?

  SID. On my feet throwing punches.

  JOEY. That’s right.

  MICKEY draws SID closer.

  MICKEY. Bring me that title okay?

  SID nods.

  DREW. Ready?

  They all put their hands on SID’s shoulders for the ring walk as before.

  DREW/ANNOUNCER. Ladies and gentlemen, the challenger, weighing in at a hundred and forty-three pounds, with a record of fourteen wins and no defeats… Sid Sparks!

  We snap to the turnbuckle, tense, ready.

  Ten seconds!

  JOEY. Switch on.

  MICKEY. Right. This is it, Sid, time to go to work. What’s the plan?

  SID. No knockout.

  MICKEY. That’s right. Slip, slide, move about, if he catches you with anything wrap him up, go straight in with the clinch, get out, set yourself, and go back to jabbing, got it?

  SID nods.

  Don’t let me down, okay?

  Bell. Out. JOEY steps forward.

  JOEY. It was very nearly all over in the first round. We should have seen it coming really. These guys had been building up for months, waiting, chomping at the bit, and then suddenly here we are with a massive crowd, and someone says ‘go’. Burns came out like a shot, straight at Sid throwing these enormous punches, head, body, hooks, crosses, everything he had. I remember watching him chase Sid around the ring, throwing these knockout shots, you could feel the air coming off them, and Sid’s backpeddling away trying to soak them up.

  Bell. DREW steps forward, JOEY steps back.

  DREW. We set him straight and got him ready for the next round assuming it would be the same but from the second round on the fight changed. Burns relaxed, backed off, starting really boxing, not brawling. After the intensity of the first round we were all a bit shocked, and so was Sid, he kept waiting for a barrage to come at him but it didn’t. Burns just circled around, picked his spots and started jabbing away. No one expected him to fight like that. It was terrifying.

  Cut to turnbuckle.

  JOEY. That’s right one-two. Keep at him.

  DREW. Good boy.

  JOEY. Stay off him now, go easy.

  DREW. Back up, back up!

  MICKEY. Why isn’t Burns chasing him in?

  DREW. He must be banking on a long fight as well.

  JOEY. Guess he didn’t fancy chasing Sid around if he couldn’t knock him out.

  MICKEY. Out the corner, out! Out!

  JOEY. Good boy.

  MICKEY. What so he’s just going to go easy all night until he sees an opening?

  JOEY. Looks like it.

  MICKEY. Well, that fucks our plan right up.

  JOEY. What do we do?

  DREW/ANNOUNCER. Ten seconds!

  MICKEY. If he’s changing his plan, we should change ours.

  JOEY. To what?

  MICKEY. I’m thinking.

  DREW. Think quick. Bell’s about to go.

  JOEY. That’s it, Sid. Double them up!

  Bell goes. SID sits, they swarm around him.

  SID. What’s he fucking doing?

  DREW. Easy, easy.

  SID. He’s not supposed to fight clever.

  MICKEY. We just need to shock him is all, make him revert to his usual way of fighting.

  SID. Well, I’m all ears.

  MICKEY. Go at him. In this round, go for him. He’s not expecting you to come forward, it’ll piss him off and he’ll start swinging again.

  JOEY. Yeah, throw a few more, let go with the punches.

  MICKEY. No, don’t just throw more. I’m saying the next time you land a jab, Sid, don’t back off out of range after. I want you to follow it in with lefts to the body and come upstairs with your right. Scare him, rough him up, he won’t like it.

  DREW. Up, up, up.

  MICKEY. On your feet, Sid. Go get him all right?

  DREW steps forward.

  DREW. It was a bit unorthodox I’ll admit, but Mick had a point. Burns and his team had completely sussed us out. All the negotiations about glove size and weight class meant we had put all our focus into making sure the fight went the distance. But when Burns showed up also ready to go the full fifteen we had to try something new or it was home time. We had to rile Burns, upset him, we figured that if Sid could embarrass him, or make him look bad then Burns would revert to fighting in his usual style and we could get on with our game plan. No champion wants to sit back and soak up punches. So at the start of round four we sent Sid out to get him.

  Back to the corner.

  MICKEY. Come on, Ricky! Make a fight of it!

  JOEY. Pick your spots, Sid!

  DREW. What are you waiting for? An invite?

  JOEY. Don’t back off, let him come at you.

  MICKEY. Come on, Sid, come on.

  DREW. Wait for it, find your mark.

  MICKEY. Any second now.

  JOEY. Wait for him to come to you.

  DREW. Here it comes.

  JOEY. We’d been waiting for it all round and then suddenly Burns moved forward and flicked out a jab at Sid’s head. He slipped it perfectly, leaving Burns just off-balance and then… (Makes the motion of a left jab as the others sound it out.)

  ALL. Boom!

  JOEY. Sid throws out this left.

  ALL. Boom!

  JOEY. He lands another and then…

  ALL. Crack!

  JOEY. He lands a right straight onto Burns’ nose. More out of surprise than anything Burns stops moving forward. There was a split-second pause, and then Sid went at him.

  Back to corner.

  MICKEY. That’s it! That’s it!

  DREW. No fucking daylight!

  JOEY. Keep at him!

  DREW. Right! Now with the right!

  JOEY. Follow him in!

  MICKEY. Stay with him, Sid!

  JOEY. Jesus Christ!

  DREW comes forward.

  DREW. The entire atmosphere changed in a second. All the spectators sat in total shock as they watched the champion, Ricky Burns, backpedalling away from our Sid, hunched over, trying to hold back an avalanche. Sid drove him halfway across the ring with his punches, left, right, head, body, fast as he could. But you can’t throw all that without something coming back. When Burns hit the ropes he let them take all his weight, leaning way out and then cannoned back in, slipped Sid’s left and threw the biggest counter he could. It was this enormous right hook, massive, I saw it starting in his feet and twist up his body like a spring. A wild, desperate punch but lethal and right at Sid’s head. I watched this huge haymaker, screaming towards his head, Sid, still surging forwards, Burns flying off the ropes and then, with inches left, Sid rolled, not perfectly mind, but he did enough. The weight of Burns’ punch carried on, dragging him around, so by the time Sid came back up Burns was off-balance and unguarded. He was just there, chin up and ready for the picking. Burns watched the punch right onto his chin until…

  ALL. Wham.

  JOEY. And he went. Like a falling building, there was brief wobble, and then one side collapsed. He dropped to his left knee, his arm draped over the ropes. More like he was catching his breath than anything. The ref rushed in and started counting, Burns was up at four, the bell went, the round finished, and the whole fight changed.

  At the corner. A roar greets SID’s return.

  MICKEY. Good boy!

  DREW. Unbelievable.

  MICKEY. See how he opened up after that first left? He’s been doing it all fight, keep at it.

  JOEY. Don’t get too confident.

  DREW. Yeah, he nearly caught you coming off the ropes.

  SID. Didn’t though, did he?

  DREW. Damn right.

  MICKEY. How’s that eye looking?

  JOEY. Just a bit swollen.

  MICKEY. Okay, good lad. Is he looking across at you?

  SID looks over MICKEY’s shoulder.

  SID. Yeah.

  MICKEY. Good. He’s going to come at you now, got it
? You embarrassed him and now he’s going to try and do the same thing to you.

  DREW. Come on, on your feet.

  MICKEY. We’ve got him where we wanted him, all right? Now it’s time for you to go to work.

  JOEY. Stay off the ropes.

  MICKEY. We got a fight on our hands now.

  Bell goes, SID moves into the ring. JOEY steps forward.

  JOEY. It’s funny watching a fight. See you know your man inside out, from the second he wakes up till when he goes back to sleep you’re with him. And then suddenly you’re in the fight and you can’t do anything. All you get is one minute each round. And you can make little changes, a few suggestions but really you’re using that time to stop his nose bleeding and his eyes swelling. You just have to watch as this kid who you’ve seen grow and change over the years, marches off into the ring, completely alone.

  Beat.

  He’d had a great start, put down a champion and set the crowd alight, but there’s a difference between ready in the gym and seeing it in the ring. When you’re fighting someone like Burns they’ll always have a little something you didn’t expect. And sure enough, by the end of round six Sid was in trouble. Nothing unnerves a boxer like getting hit when he’s throwing shots, and Sid was getting beaten to the punch time and again.

  SID flops into the corner.

  MICKEY. Look at the eye, Joe.

  DREW. Deep breaths.

  MICKEY. Ribs?

  DREW. All I can do is ice them.

  SID. You said he’d be knackered by the eighth round.

  DREW. Well, stop making it so easy for him.

  MICKEY. Exactly, if he’s not feeling it then make him work more, fucking hit him!

  SID. I keep getting nailed with the counter.

  JOEY. Side to side.

  DREW. He’s right. You’re a sitting bloody target, keep moving.

  JOEY. And get at him.

  MICKEY. Clearly he’s not slowing down like we thought he would so you have got to slow him down. If you are going to get hit each time you go in then stop messing around with little feelers. If you’re going to trade punches with him make sure they’re punches worth fucking trading, hit him! Put your glove through his bloody head.

  JOEY. Up, up, up.

  MICKEY. Stop being so polite, take the dancing shoes off and fucking hit him!

  DREW steps forward.

  DREW. It was the defining round of the fight, Sid was behind on the scorecards and we had to do something to change it. So at the beginning of the tenth we sent Sid out telling him to be much more aggressive, to keep moving forward. Sid wasn’t that kind of fighter, but if we let him sit back and soak it up we’d all look bad. We had to make a fight of it.