SHANE. I’ve dreamed of reaching a point in my career where I was in a televised fight and the people who took the time to watch it were going to be treated to my fighting ability, style and finesse. I’ve always considered myself an entertaining boxer, and felt I have a reasonable amount to offer the up and coming talent in the industry. I am both a boxer and a fighter; but in the ring I am a boxer. My fighting has always been on and in the streets. Fighting, in no respect, is a show of talent. It is a measure of one’s ability to become or be vicious.

My preference tonight and all future nights was to be a boxer. A show of my ability to out-perform another man in the sport I’ve grown to love. But tonight, or at least three minutes at a time, I needed to find a way to become a monster.

As I stepped into the center of the ring, I began to think of all the men I had beaten over the years for their mistreatment of others. The guy in Watts, Los Angeles who cut his wife’s face for not having dinner ready when he got off work. The man three blocks down from my old gym who had beat his eleven year old son unconscious for chewing tobacco at school. The man who allowed his friends to gang-rape his wife.

Buster.

And my blood began to boil.

As Brock hurried to the center of the ring, I stepped in close with my elbows tucked, as if I were going to allow him to punch on me no differently than I did in the first round. My decision to attempt to box this man was tossed out the window. I decided to allow him to beat me for a few seconds, and the second he paused…

I was going to show him how we do it here in in Texas, as Ripp says.

With my gloves raised, and my elbows tucked in tight, he began to unleash a flurry into my forearms and gloves. His power was tremendous, but it was nothing I hadn’t felt before. I just had never allowed a man to continue to beat me in this manner. As he continued to pound me, the crowd went wild. Waiting for him to tire, I remembered the infamous Mohammad Ali, and his Rope-a-Dope fashion I had always made fun of – allowing his opponent to beat him until the challenger grew tired, and then hammering him with a flurry of heavy-handed punches. As he continued to swing wildly into my arms, I noticed a pattern.

Immediately prior to throwing a strong right hand, and only a strong right hand, he grunted deeply. The window of opportunity between the grunt and the punch wasn’t much, but it was there. Almost as if he provided himself energy from within, the grunting continued with every vicious right hand. As he continued to hammer me with a combination, I waited.

Tell-tale signs, big boy…you want to leave those at the door.

Grunt for me, you big bastard, I have to give this crowd what they paid for, and that’s a show.

A half second break in punches, and I heard it. He was preparing to throw a hard right.

I swung a left uppercut in the direction I hoped his chin was. My hand felt as if it contacted a brick wall.

I opened my stance and switched to unorthodox.

For a fraction of a second, stunned, he stood and stared.

Never been hit like that, have you? See what you think of this.

I unleashed a series of punches into his midsection, followed by a right hook to his left temple. The crowd went insane. The entire arena began screaming.

Dehhh-Kaaar, Dehhh-Kaaar, Dehhh-Kaaar.

Sorry folks, Dekkar isn’t here tonight. He’s been replaced by a man known as Ripp – a man with no conscience and a love for seeing blood. A man whose fucking cock gets hard when he beats on people.

The referee was behind me and to the left slightly.

I stepped in close and threw a series of unanswered jabs, followed by a shallow right cross. Intentionally, I allowed my elbow to swing wild and come in contact with is chin. He wasn’t the type of fighter to complain about an illegal elbow. As long as the referee didn’t see it, I’d be just fine…

That’s right Tick-Tock, I decided to fight your big ass.

“You got it, kid. That’s what I’m talking about. Take it to him,” Kelsey screamed.

I’m doing my best, boss.

Brock responded with a thundering left which caught my right bicep. Immediately he grunted and threw a right uppercut – a fraction of an inch short of my chin. As the punch glanced past my nose, I switched my stance and threw a right hook to his midsection.

I like ribs, big boy. Did I get me one?

His face contorted as his body absorbed the punch.

The crowd began to cheer again.

Shame.

On.

Shame.

On.

Kace must have started that cheer. She knows how it fuels me.

I love that damned woman.

I thought of the day she walked into Ripp’s back yard, her face covered with dried blood and her teeth broken. Her broken smile and squashed pride made my stomach churn.

As Brock brought a combination to my body, I closed my arms in tight and waited. As soon as I heard the grunt, I twisted right and threw a hard left to his jaw.

Boom!

The punch landed hard on his jaw, sending him into a back-peddling series of steps as he attempted to catch his balance.

Oh shit, this guy’s never been hit. He knows how to fight, but he doesn’t know how to take a punch. He’s got a glass jaw.

Time seemed to stand still. I wished I could turn toward Kelsey and give him the thumbs up. I felt with these two revelations – the grunting, and his inability to take a power punch, I could actually win this fight.

I moved in and hammered him with a combination I never knew I had in me. Fifteen or twenty unanswered punches while I was in close, none of which were really threatening.

But.

He would remember them later.

I felt Kelsey beating his hand on the mat.

I hear you, old man.

We’re down to seconds, big boy. Let me close the round…

With this.

I swung a left hook to his ribs, followed by a hopeful right uppercut. As the left made contact, his head tilted forward as his body absorbed the punch. The right, thrown a little short, glanced off the tip of his forehead, but made good contact.

Stunned, he stumbled into the ropes.

I’m going to beat your big ass senseless. Come here, you big prick.

I took one step in his direction.

Ding!

Fuck! I was just beginning to enjoy this.