by Jack Tunney
Bryce Baker continued with his announcements. “Our referee for this match is none other than our very own color commentator, Moses ‘Moe’ Jackson!”
Moe entered the cage to thunderous applause. Bryce handed him the microphone. Moe walked to the center of the cage and then waved for both fighters to join him.
Nick walked toward Moe Jackson, stopping an inch from the extended fingertips of the color commentator’s left hand.
Ducky sprinted toward the center of the cage, coming to rest with his chest pressed against Moe’s right fingertips.
“Gentlemen, I expect a good, clean fight tonight,” Moe said. “Listen to and obey my commands at all times. Defend yourselves to the best of your ability at all times. And give these people a New Year’s Eve to remember! Now, touch gloves and go back to your respective corners.”
Nick and Ducky backed away from each other, refusing to touch gloves.
Moe looked toward Nick. “Are you ready?”
Nick thrust his right thumb forward and nodded in affirmation.
“Are you ready, champ?” Moe asked Ducky.
“Ready to destroy!” Ducky answered.
“Then, let’s throw down!” Moe shouted as he backed away from the center of the cage.
Nick and Ducky charged each other.
Nick let fly a jab, cross, lead low hook, rear uppercut combination.
Ducky deftly parried the jab, parried the cross, blocked the low hook with a descending elbow and then rocked backward, evading the uppercut.
Ducky countered with a blistering lead uppercut, followed by a robust rear uppercut.
Nick ducked the strikes and exploded forward, lowering his stance until his knees nearly scraped the mat.
Ducky took a step backward in an attempt to evade Nick’s charge, but was not quite quick enough.
Nick grabbed Ducky’s right leg, which was now forward, with both arms. Nick then exploded upward with his hips, hoisting Ducky’s left foot high off the ground.
Ducky drove his weight downward onto Nick’s right arm to prevent Nick from throwing him. He then grabbed Nick’s right wrist with his left hand as he snaked his right arm over Nick’s right triceps. Ducky grabbed his own left wrist with his right hand, trapping Nick’s right arm in a tight figure-four grip. He then rolled backward, kicking his right foot upward between Nick’s legs.
Nick staggered forward and then fell, rolling headlong, onto the mat.
Ducky held on to Nick’s right arm and used the combined momentum of Nick’s forward roll and his own backward roll to tumble over into a side-mount position with his chest atop – and perpendicular to – Nick’s chest. He then cranked Nick’s right arm behind Nick’s back, forcing his wrist upward toward his head.
A terrible pain ripped across Nick’s shoulder. Nick sat bolt upright to relieve the tremendous pressure on his shoulder and then rolled forward onto his knees to escape the torturous lock.
Ducky clung to Nick like glue, rolling onto Nick’s back. He released his grip on Nick’s arm and began hammering the sides of Nick’s face with heavy hook punches.
Nick grabbed Ducky’s right wrist with both hands and then rolled sideways to his right as he jerked Ducky’s arm downward.
Ducky flew over Nick. A moment later, Ducky’s back crashed onto the mat.
Nick shifted his hips to the left, bringing himself into a pushup position and then drew his legs in toward his chest, propelling himself into a standing position.
Ducky rolled over backward into a kneeling position and began to rise to his feet.
Nick skipped forward driving his right knee into Ducky’s solar plexus before he could stand.
Ducky grimaced as the air flew out of his lungs. He stumbled backward, landing on his haunches as his the back of his head crashed into the cage.
Nick charged toward the downed Ducky.
Ducky pushed off the cage and lay flat on the floor.
Nick pounced, his right fist poised to deliver a powerful hammerfist.
Ducky drove his hips upward and shot his left foot out, with his toes curled backward and pointing to the left. The heel of his foot slammed into Nick’s cheek.
Nick collapsed onto his back, fighting off the unconsciousness threatening to sweep over him.
The bell rang.
Nick blinked rapidly to regain his focus. His face felt as if it was falling apart and his shoulder throbbed terribly. He peered over at Ducky, who was struggling to get to his feet. Nick rolled onto his knees and then stood slowly. He flashed a weak smile at Chizo, revealing his neon green mouthpiece.
Chizo smiled back and held her thumb high.
Hector and Miles entered the cage with their stool, cutbag, water and bucket.
Nick slumped down onto the stool.
Hector held an ice pack on Nick’s shoulder as Miles held the enswell to his cheek.
“He’s got great defenses, Nick,” Hector said. “But offensively, he’s just good. Let him come to you…let him wear himself out, then, finish him!”
Nick nodded.
“Is your shoulder okay?” Miles asked.
“Nah, I think he tore something in there,” Nick said. “The ice is numbing the pain a little, though.”
“The more you use it, the worse it will get,” Miles said. “So, work your cross and your low kicks. Only use your right arm when absolutely necessary for defense.”
The second bell rang, signaling the start of the second round.
Nick leapt to his feet, ignoring the ache in his shoulder and charged toward the center of the cage.
Ducky Bronson also darted toward the center of the cage, his eyes locked on Nick’s eyes.
The combatants circled each other, their hands moving elliptically as their eyes sought an opening.
Ducky held up two fingers, signaling he would give the fans the second-round knockout he’d guaranteed.
Nick waved to Ducky to bring it on.
The arena shook from the rousing applause rising from the stands.
Nick stomped the mat with his right foot and lurched forward with his right shoulder, feigning a high attack.
Ducky threw up his hands in defense, but no punches came.
Instead, Nick whipped a rear-leg shin kick into the outside of Ducky’s left thigh, which he followed with a lead-leg shin kick to the inside of Ducky’s left thigh.
Ducky winced. His left leg buckled. Ducky shifted his right leg forward to remove his bruised left leg out of the line of fire.
Nick hammered two lightning-fast rear shin kicks into the outside of Ducky’s right thigh.
Ducky staggered to his left. He shifted his left leg back to the forward position. Ducky lurched forward, firing a weak jab, cross combination at Nick’s nose.
Nick raised his left, then right elbow, simultaneously defending his face as he attacked Ducky’s fists.
Ducky grimaced as the small bones in his fists collided with the points of Nick’s elbows.
Nick countered with a left cross followed by a rear knee to the front of Ducky’s left thigh.
Blood sprayed from Ducky’s nose as Nick’s punch slammed into its bridge. Ducky staggered backward, his left thigh turning a deep purple from the onslaught against it.
Ducky shot a left hook punch toward Nick’s head, but his numb legs failed him and he stumbled off-balance.
Nick bent his knees deeply, allowing the Ducky’s flailing left arm to fly over his head in a wide arc. Nick then exploded forward, wrapping his arms around Ducky’s waist before Ducky could regain his balance. Nick drove his hips into Ducky’s left thigh as he yanked Ducky’s waist upward.
Ducky’s eyes grew wide as dinner plates as his feet flew high above his head.
Nick held Ducky high above his head for a moment and then sprawled forward, snapping Ducky’s body toward the floor.
Ducky’s head hit the mat first, the top of his skull slamming into the floor with a loud thud. His back crashed into the mat a moment later.
Nick released Ducky
’s waist and slithered up Ducky’s body, taking a dominant mounted position on his opponent.
Ducky’s arms fell limply at his sides and his legs convulsed once, twice, and then went still.
Nick sat bolt upright, bearing his weight on Ducky’s chest and raised his right elbow, ready to deliver a pulverizing finishing strike.
Moe Jackson charged toward Nick and pushed him off of Ducky just before Nick’s elbow struck.
Nick was sent tumbling backward.
Moe Jackson knelt to inspect the unconscious former champion. He waved his arms, signaling the end of the fight.
Nick leapt to his feet, holding his right fist high. He danced around the ring as Orere exploded from the speakers.
Miles and Hector ran into the cage and ran to Nick, embracing him. The three men huddled together, crying tears of joy.
Adam Arlington sauntered into the ring, waving to the cheering fans. Chizo and Dan Wallace entered closely behind him.
“Can I get in here with you guys?”
Nick looked up. Chizo stood to his right, smiling, with tears flowing down her cheeks. Nick wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into the huddle with him and his brothers.
“I love you brothers,” Nick said. “I love you, Chizo.”
“I love you, more,” Chizo said, kissing him on the cheek.
Love you, bro’,” Hector replied.
“I love all of y’all,” Miles said, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand. “But I can’t lie, I love that butt whoopin’ you gave that chump Ducky Bronson even more!”
Everyone laughed.
Moe Jackson tapped Nick on the back. “It’s time.”
Nick disengaged from the huddle and followed Moe to the center of the cage.
Moe Jackson grabbed Nick’s wrist and then raised his hand high.
“The winner, by knockout,” Bryce Baker began. “And new light heavyweight champion of the world…”
Dan Wallace wrapped the championship belt around Nick’s waist and secured it.
Bryce pointed toward Nick as Moe Jackson raised Nick’s hand in victory. “…Nick New Breed Steed!”
The spectators leapt to their feet, cheering and clapping joyously.
Four Emergency Medical Technicians rolled Ducky Bronson onto a stretcher and began moving him out of the cage.
Bryce handed Chizo the microphone.
“So, Nick, how does it feel to be the light heavyweight champion of the world?” Chizo asked.
“Is he okay?” Nick asked, ignoring the question and looking over at Ducky as the EMTs wheeled him up the ramp on the stretcher.
“He’s still breathing,” one of the emergency medical technicians shouted.
Nick shrugged, turning back to the microphone. “He guaranteed everyone a second-round knockout and he made good on his promise...with a little help from me!”
The crowd roared.
Nick returned his attention to Chizo. “It feels great to be the champion, Chizo. Ducky Bronson was the toughest opponent I have ever fought and I look forward to giving him a chance to get his belt back.”
The spectators cheered.
“And what’s next for you?” Chizo asked.
“Well…” Nick began.
He nodded toward Hector. Hector reached into his pocket and handed Nick a small, velvet covered box.
Nick got down on one knee before Chizo.
The crowd roared.
Chizo covered her face, embarrassed.
“…What’s next is I ask the most beautiful woman in the world to marry me,” Nick said, taking a diamond ring out of the box. “So, will you?”
“Will I what?” Chizo said, teasing Nick.
“Marry me!” Nick bellowed.
“Yes!” Chizo shouted.
She extended her hand toward Nick. Nick slipped the ring on her finger, stood and then kissed her.
Bryce pulled the microphone from Chizo’s hand. “Give it up for WERK’s champion and first lady!”
The crowd cheered.
Nick leaned toward the microphone. “Happy New Year, everybody!”
Nick, Chizo, Hector and Miles sauntered out of the cage as Bryce Baker crooned Auld Lang Syne:
“Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind ?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne ?”
Everyone in Philips Arena – from the fighters, to their corners, to security, to food vendors and even Dan Wallace, himself – joined Bryce in chorus, ringing in the New Year:
“For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.”
ROUND 19
ADEWALE WRESTLING COMPOUND
OSHOGBO, OSHUN STATE, NIGERIA
Nick, Baba Yemi, Dele and a host of Nick’s fellow jagunjagun stood along the edge of the driveway as a white van pulled into the compound. The van came to a screeching halt. Baba Yemi nodded toward Nick. Nick slid the van’s passenger door open, revealing ten new fighter candidates – all athletic young men. Nine were from nearby villages and towns. One was from…elsewhere.
“Get out of my van,” Baba Yemi commanded.
Before the candidates could exit the van, however, the jagunjagun were on them, grabbing them by their ankles and arms and yanking them onto the red dirt.
“Bring back memories, little brother?” Dele snickered, tapping Nick on the shoulder.
“Good, bad, and terrifying ones,” Nick replied.
“It was all part of the training, little brother,” Dele said. “Nothing personal.”
“I know that now,” Nick replied. “You gave me grief, Dele, but it toughened me, helped make me the champion I am today. I thank you.”
As he did every time new candidates exited Baba Yemi’s van and joined the compound, Nick reminisced on his first day there – new to the fighter’s life, new to Africa, new to Nigeria and the culture so very different than the one he once claimed as his own.
Who would have thought the son of an organized crime underboss would end up here? That he would one day leave and become a world champion, proving to the world the effectiveness and efficiency of indigenous African martial arts and informing the world of the greatness of the Adewale Wrestling Compound and Baba Yemi’s masterful coaching?
“On your feet!” Baba Yemi ordered.
“Did you not you hear Baba?” Dele shouted, snatching up a candidate by the ear. “Clean the wax out of your ears and get on your feet!”
“Aarg,” the candidate grunted in protest.
Nick recognized him. It was Miles.
Dele winked at Nick and smiled. “Let’s go, little mouse. That is your name, right?”
“Actually, it’s Miles,” Miles replied.
“That’s what I said,” Dele said, yanking Miles’ ear. “Mouse! Now, shut up and move!”
The candidates scrambled to their feet. Each jagunjagun grabbed a candidate by his ear and dragged him, screaming, off toward their quarters.
“Goodbye, Mouse…I mean Miles,” Nick chuckled.
“Nick?” Miles said, peering behind him. “You call this safe? I’m going to pay you back for this one! Ouch! Nick!”
“Don’t forget to hydrate!” Nick yelled, waving goodbye.
Nick and Baba Yemi laughed.
“We’ll take good care of him here, Nicholas,” Baba Yemi said. “No harm will come to him from those Stokes Family thugs as long as he is here.”
“I know, grandfather,” Nick said.
“So, you’re the world champion and engaged to a movie star,” Baba Yemi said, patting Nick on the shoulder. “The ancestors are good!”
“You are, too,” Nick said.
“Whatever do you mean?” Baba Yemi asked.
“Giving Chizo my phone number,” Nick said. “Thanks.”
“Man cannot live off fighting alone, Nicholas,” Baba Yemi said. “Perhaps she will ke
ep you away from girls’ showers and getting urinated on by goats.”
Nick’s mouth dropped. “You knew about that prank?”
“Who do you think set it up?” Baba Yemi replied. He turned away from Nick and began sauntering up the long driveway.
“You? You pranked me?” Nick inquired, still surprised.
“Like I said, Nicholas,” Baba Yemi replied, peering over his shoulder. “Man cannot live off fighting alone.”
THE END
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FIGHT CARD VOLUME 1
2013
FELONY FISTS
THE CUTMAN
SPLIT DECISION
COUNTERPUNCH
HARD ROAD
KING OF THE OUTBACK
A MOUTH FULL OF BLOOD
TOMATO CAN COMEBACK
BLUFF CITY BRAWLER
GOLDEN GATE GLOVES
IRISH DUKES
THE KNOCKOUT
FIGHT CARD VOLUME 2
2013
RUMBLE IN THE JUNGLE
AGAINST THE ROPES
THE LAST ROUND OF ARCHIE MANNIS
GET HIT, HIT BACK
BROOKLYN BEATDOWN
CAN’T MISS CONTENDER
BAREFOOT BONES
FRONT PAGE PALOOKA
SWAMP WALLOPER
FIGHT CARD VOLUME 3
2014
MONSTER MAN
GUNS OF NOVEMBER
FIGHT RIVER
ADVENTURES OF SAILOR TOM SHARKEY
FIGHT CARD MMA
WELCOME TO THE OCTAGON
THE KALAMAZOO KID
ROSIE THE RIPPER
FIST OF AFRICA
FIGHT CARD ROMANCE
LADIES NIGHT
LOVE ON THE ROPES
FIGHT CARD LUCHADORES
RISE OF THE LUCHADORES
FIGHT CARD NOW
PUNCHING PARADISE