The Pugilist
Fourteen seconds remained on the clock for the eighth round. The contender only needed ten of those seconds to deliver the blinding left hook to the jaw that dropped his opponent to his knees. The dazed pugilist toppled over like a fallen tree; his head slammed down on the mat and remained there for the entire ten count. The bell sounded, and the referee lifted the contender’s arm and declared him the winner.
“Lonnie,” the young boxer told his fight manager, “We did it! We’re going to Las Vegas!”
“Yea Cat, five-hundred grand. You can finally get that house you and Barbara’s been dreaming of, and you two can get married like you’ve been wanting.”
Christian had given himself the name the “Cat” when he boxed in Golden Gloves division as a teen. The name never caught on, but his closest friends call him Cat, if not just for the fact that it is easier to say than Christian.
“Barb’s the best,” said Cat. “She’s stayed by my side watching me take all these hits and for what Lonnie? Because she loves me, that’s for what Lonnie. I’m going to win. I ‘m going to get Barbara her house, and I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
****
The pay-per-view Cruiserweight title fight at Caesars Palace was only a month away. Cat knew he would need to be in the best shape of his life if he wanted to beat the Champ.
It was still dark outside when Cat ran five miles each morning before he arrived to the gym for a full day of intense training. When it came time to spar, Cat’s manager drilled him with a list of do’s and don’ts.
“Watch out for the fake left hook; if he follows it with a right upper-cut, he’s setting you up.”
The two boxers saunter around each other, exchanging jabs, when Jose Cat’s switched to a left stance and threw a hard punch to Cat’s solar plexus, followed by a sharp kidney punch. Cat sucked it in and countered with a cross to the cheek, snapping the kid’s head back. The kid changed back to a right stance. Cat dropped his hands, and the kid faked with a left hook followed by a right upper cut that was stopped by Cat’s gloves. Cat knew the combo was coming and dropped his upper body. The kid’s right-cross missed Cat but he followed it with a left jab that punched into Cat’s closed forearms. Before Cat’s sparring partner got off the right power jab, Cat delivered the kid a powerful left jab that sent Jose into the ropes. The dazed young sparring partner glanced at his trainer and Lonnie gave him a nod to end the session.
“You done good kid” Lonnie tells Cat. “You just might be ready for the Champ.”
Cat lifted his arms above his head and shouted, “Christian Santos, Cruiserweight Champion of the world!”
“Don’t get too cocky, the Champ ain’t gonna make it that easy for you. We still have a lot of work to do.”
****
It was a week before the fight and Cat knew he was ready. He was now running ten miles a day, and the workouts no longer tired. He was pumped and ready for shooting. He felt like he could train into the late night, and sometimes he did. Barbara wasn’t too happy that Cat was always training and never spent time with her, but it was Cat’s big chance and she would stand behind him all the way.
After Cat and Lonnie finished lunch together at the deli, Lonnie gave Cat a long hard look as if something was on his mind.
“You’re in the best shape I’ve ever seen you in Cat. Do you think you’re ready for the Champ? I know how much you want to win, but the Champ won’t be easy to beat, so don’t fool yourself.”
“Yea Lonny, he’s got the quickest, smartest combo’s I’ve ever seen, but they’re right handed combos; that doesn’t work on lefties like me. You know what he’s made of; you were once his trainer. I can beat him Lonnie, you know I can.”
“I like your confidence kid, but he was good then, and he’s even better now. Yea, his weakness is the lefties but he ko’ed his last one, so don’t count on that left hook of yours to put him down. I know how much you want that house for Barb. You got what it takes to be a contender, but he’s got what it takes to keep his title.”
“Lonnie, what are you saying? I’m in the best shape of my life, I know I can beat him.”
“I know you can, but I’ve got something to tell you. The Champ’s camp wanted to see me yesterday, so we met. He offered a deal, it’s a very generous offer Cat; half the prize if you take it in the ninth. That’s two hundred and fifty thousands dollars, that would get Barbara her house.”
Christian stared at his manager, his jaw tightened and his stomach began to ball up.
“You don’t believe in me Lonnie? You don’t think I can take him? How can you do this to me, it’s a title fight.”
“I know it is, it’s just something to consider. You and Barb can finally get the house you’ve been wanting. They’ll be other fights. You’re a good fighter; you’ll get another chance at the belt.
Christian kicked the edge of the table with the palms of his hands with a force that rattled the plates and tipped over Lonnie’s glass of water, then he slams a fist down on the table.
“The hell with him, and the hell with you Lonnie. I thought you were my manager, I thought you were my friend, I thought you believed in me.”
“I do kid, I just wanted to…”
Cat stopped him before he could finish his words.
“It’s going down this way. I’m going to take him out in the ninth, and I don’t need you to help me do it. I’m getting a new manager. You’re fired Lonnie. No manager of mine is going to tell me to take a fall.”
“Cat, I wasn’t telling you, I was just…”
“Good bye Lonnie.”
The manager sat quietly, as his best fighter stormed out of the deli. Perhaps he should have told him the truth, but Cat did not give him the opportunity. There was one other option, which meant another meet with the Champ.
****
“I fired him Barb, I fired Lonnie.”
“What do you mean you fired Lonnie? He’s been like a father to you, and your fight’s next week. What the hell happened between you two?”
“He wanted me to take a fall. I don’t take a fall for no one, even if it means getting our house. You’re with me on this, right Barb?”
“Of course, but that doesn’t sound like Lonnie. He’s been telling everyone how you’re going to be the next champion. Did he tell you why?”
Cat didn’t answer, but instead reflected on the conversation earlier that day. Lonnie didn’t tell him why because Cat didn’t give him the chance.
“I’ve already hired Carlos. It’s done. He’s going to be in my corner, and I’m going to take the fight home in the ninth. You just watch and see, Barb.”
****
The fight was billed as Ray “The Stingray” Martinez versus Christian “The Cat” Santos. The two fighters sat in their corner as Cat was announced. The crowd cheered as Cat stood and raised his arms with a confidence that excited the crowd. Carlos removed the contender’s white silk robe, with its pouncing black panther that embroidered it and Cat went to the center of the ring. When they announced his opponent, the cheers turned into a roar, affirming Stingray as the favorite. The two fighters locked eyes. Cat confidently swayed side to side as his opponent stood motionless, sizing one another with their deadly gazes. After the referee told them the rules, they each went to their corner.
The starting bell rang and both fighters charged to the center of the ring. Cat initiated the first swing with a one-two punch that swiped the Champs cheek. Cat took another swing but was countered with a stinging right jab to his head. The crowd went wild. It was the psychological blow that stung Cat more than it was the physical blow. Cat stepped back and shook it off before getting back into the fight, leading with an upper cut to the champ’s gut followed by a right cross to the head that met it’s target. He took his punches down to the champs mid-section with a machine-gun blast of jabs that sent the champ scrambling for the ropes. Cat got the crowd back and by the end of the first round he had picked up some of Stingray’s audience. The round ended in a dead-heat.
By the start of the seventh round, Cat was feeling good. His opponent showed no surprises and Cat had no trouble fighting off the Champ’s quick combos. The contender felt that he could take the Champ out in the seventh, and the crowd thought so as well. He held back the urge. Cat made up his mind that he was going to end it in the ninth and let the champ survive the seventh.
Cat questioned his decision not to take the Champ out in the seventh, when during the eighth round he found himself fighting off a long series of fast combo’s ending with an upper cut to the chin that put the contender on the mat. The Champ’s magic combo was a lot faster than his sparring partner and it just sneaked up on him. It landed him on his rear but he got back up as fast as he went down. It was too late. The bell rang, ending the eighth round. The Champ got his fans back and picked up points as well.
“This is it Carlos. I taking him out in the ninth.”
“Don’t get too cocky Champ. He’s still got a lot left in him and he’s also got the crowd to pump him up. Just concentrate on getting your points back. Don’t rush it.”
Cat looked at Carlos to assure himself Lonnie wasn’t saying those words. It sounded just like Lonnie.
The bell rang and Cat sprang like a panther.
“Don’t rush it!” yelled his manager.
He met the Champ in the center. Pumped on high-octane adrenalin and putting himself in a left stance, Cat started hammering the champ with a barrage of jabs, sending the champ into the ropes. Cat continued hammering on his opponent until the referee pulled him off. When they resumed, the fighters danced around each other before Cat let lose with rapid fire hooks, jabs and upper cuts and the champ staggered to get away from them. The crowd thirsted for blood and Cat gave it to them. Cat noticed the champ make the sign of the cross before he got back to center. They both played with some kissing jabs until the champ threw a fake left hook, followed by a right upper cut.
Everything suddenly became slow motion to Cat, the fake, the upper cut, and now the magic combo. Cat dropped down causing the champ’s right cross to miss its target. As Cat was bent he saw the Champs hands come down. The magic combo did not end with a power jab that marked the Champ’s signature combo. Cat seized the opportunity and came up with an upper cut to the champs chin, lifting the champ off the floor and laying him sprawled out on to the mat.
The referee started the count. When he got to five, the champ sat up and started mumbling something. Cat could swear he was mumbling something about a “Maria”. It sounded like he was talking to “Maria”.
Maybe Maria was the champ’s wife. Thought Cat.
It was over for the champ. Christian Santos had become the new World Cruiserweight Champion.
****
After all the congratulations and interviews, Cat was alone with his wife in the dressing room.
“I told you I can do it Barb. Ninth round, I took him down. Maybe I should start calling all my fights, huh babe? They called me ‘The Cat’; Christian ‘The Cat’ Santos Cruiserweight Champion of the world. We’re getting the house baby and were going to get married, you and me, and were going to have kids, lots of them.”
Just then, a light tap on the door is heard. Barbara opened the door and began chatting with the person on the other side.
“Who is it babe? Let him in.”
Cat’s wife slowly opened the door, watching cautiously for her husband’s reaction. It was better than she had expected.
“Come in Lonnie. Did you see it, …did you? I took him down in the ninth just like I said I would. And you wanted me to take a fall for him? You blew it Lonnie, you don’t know what I got in me. “
“Barbara, …can I have a minute alone with the champ?”
“Sure Lonnie, I have to use the bathroom anyway.”
“So you’ve come to apologize, huh Lonnie? You didn’t believe in me and now you know. Sucks doesn’t it Lonnie”
“Cat, I didn’t come to apologize, I came to tell you something that I’ve been wanting to tell since the deli.”
Lonnie pulled up a chair next to Cat whom was seated on the massage table. The ex-manager solemnly lowered his head, with his elbows on his knees and hand clasped together.
“Cat, You didn’t let me finish talking at the deli. It wasn’t Ray’s manager that I met with that day. It was Ray. He asked me if I thought you could beat him. Cat, you know that Ray and I go way back, since he boxed Golden Gloves. He’s always been like family to me. He needed my advice and I told him, I told him that I thought you could beat him.”
“So, since you two were such good friends, you thought you could talk me into taking a fall, is that it?”
“No Cat, it’s not like that. You see, Ray has a sixteen-year-old daughter that’s sick. She needs an operation to save her. The operation is very expensive, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Ray doesn’t have that kind of money. All he had was some equity in his house. He mortgaged his house and had his friends put down some bets so he could get the money to pay for the operation.”
“I don’t get it Lonnie, the prize money would have been enough, unless you’re saying that he wasn’t sure of the outcome.”
“Ray had to be certain he would get the money for his daughter’s operation, he was certain of the outcome. You see Cat, Ray didn’t bet on himself, …he bet on you. He took the fall in the ninth. You didn’t beat him and Ray didn’t lose. He won his daughter’s life.”
Cat and Lonnie sat quietly until Lonnie got up from his chair.
“That’s all I came to say Cat. Congratulations Champ, it was a pleasure working for you. I’ll be on my way now, good luck son.”
“Lonnie, what a sec. The girl, Ray’s daughter, what’s her name?”
Lonnie turned to Cat, “It’s Maria, why?”
“No reason.”
The manager, once again, started for the door.
“Lonnie, hold on,”
Cat’s trainer stopped and turned to Cat.
“I’m sorry for the girl, maybe I would of done the same. Do you think you could consider being my manager again?”
“Sure kid, why not. Boxers like you don’t come along very often.”
Lonnie opened the door and saw Barbara waiting outside. He gave Cat’s wife a kiss on the forehead and left.
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