Post by thewobert on Apr 18, 2007 17:16:22 GMT -6
The bandage across Buddy’s forehead itched like a son of a bitch. Buddy sat at the steering wheel of his Winnebago, trying not to scratch at it. There was still dried blood left in his hair. It had been three years since Buddy had received a beating like that. It had been even longer since he had seen his own blood. Buddy had been beaten to a bloody pulp, but worse, he lost the match. Not exactly the start that he wanted, it did bring back fond memories. It brought back memories of blood, sweat, tears, and the roar of the crowd.
There he was, standing in the middle of the ring, blood trickling down the side of his face. It was the twelfth and final round of the fight. It had been a rough fight for Buddy. His colorful Hendrix shorts were now smeared with blood and sweat. Blood trickled from cuts around his eyes. The plastic protector in his mouth tasted like blood from his bleeding gums. His left eye was surrounded by swollen muscle and was on the verge of closing shut. Buddy didn’t look like a man anymore, but more like a monster.
Buddy wouldn’t be surprised if a chuck of his flesh was left on the other guy’s gloves. He probably had a couple of broken rips from the power shots his opponent had been blasting. His arms ached from blocking the constant barrage of lefts and rights. The gloves on his hands felt like they were cinder blocks. Every muscle in his body was sore and was burnt out. This last round was going to be hell on earth.
The ref brought them together and Buddy touched gloves with the other gladiator. Moments later they were right back at it. Buddy put up his fists and loaded up his right hand. Buddy had been saving that one punch all fight. That one knock-out punch Buddy knew would rock the other guy’s world. Buddy knew his opponent’s flaw and he was about to pounce.
Buddy stuck out his left and jabbed away. All fight long Buddy’s jab had been literally connected to the other guy’s chin. He’d try to return fire with a hook, but Buddy easily ducked under that. That was when Buddy knew he could catch him with a haymaker. There it came like clock work. His opponent arched back to throw a hook and let it loose. Buddy stepped backward and dodged the punch. With a quick and deadly strike, Buddy’s uppercut rocked him onto the canvas.
He didn’t knock him out, but he gave him a hell of a shot. Too bad Buddy had been knocked down in every round leading up to that round. Buddy lost the fight hands down, but in that one round, Buddy was god. That was the closest he had been to gold in the boxing ring. It was a Pay-Per-View match in the garden of all gardens, Madison Square Garden. After that night, Buddy knew that he had to get to that point again.
There he was, standing in the middle of the ring, blood trickling down the side of his face. It was the twelfth and final round of the fight. It had been a rough fight for Buddy. His colorful Hendrix shorts were now smeared with blood and sweat. Blood trickled from cuts around his eyes. The plastic protector in his mouth tasted like blood from his bleeding gums. His left eye was surrounded by swollen muscle and was on the verge of closing shut. Buddy didn’t look like a man anymore, but more like a monster.
Buddy wouldn’t be surprised if a chuck of his flesh was left on the other guy’s gloves. He probably had a couple of broken rips from the power shots his opponent had been blasting. His arms ached from blocking the constant barrage of lefts and rights. The gloves on his hands felt like they were cinder blocks. Every muscle in his body was sore and was burnt out. This last round was going to be hell on earth.
The ref brought them together and Buddy touched gloves with the other gladiator. Moments later they were right back at it. Buddy put up his fists and loaded up his right hand. Buddy had been saving that one punch all fight. That one knock-out punch Buddy knew would rock the other guy’s world. Buddy knew his opponent’s flaw and he was about to pounce.
Buddy stuck out his left and jabbed away. All fight long Buddy’s jab had been literally connected to the other guy’s chin. He’d try to return fire with a hook, but Buddy easily ducked under that. That was when Buddy knew he could catch him with a haymaker. There it came like clock work. His opponent arched back to throw a hook and let it loose. Buddy stepped backward and dodged the punch. With a quick and deadly strike, Buddy’s uppercut rocked him onto the canvas.
He didn’t knock him out, but he gave him a hell of a shot. Too bad Buddy had been knocked down in every round leading up to that round. Buddy lost the fight hands down, but in that one round, Buddy was god. That was the closest he had been to gold in the boxing ring. It was a Pay-Per-View match in the garden of all gardens, Madison Square Garden. After that night, Buddy knew that he had to get to that point again.