5
Redd was newly invigorated by his blossoming romance, and wanting to provide financially for his new girlfriend, he decided to re-enter the league to contend for the championship. Her positive attitude was inspiring to him and he felt compelled to try to continue with his dream. It was his first match in a long time, and it was against a notoriously dirty fighter.
It was the night of his fight. He was nervous, but confident that he would do well. Perhaps a little too confident.
Redd was swarmed right off the bat. Having long arms, he usually liked to keep a distance between himself and his opponent. His opponent, Martin Fuschs had lost five bouts in a row on fouls and technicalities, and was now fighting a former cruiserweight contender, Redd, just to stay at the bottom of the running for the title. Martin had always been too angry, too liable to go too hard and lose by disqualification, and was for this reason inconsolably bitter.
Redd tried defending, but could feel his forearms taking massive damage. Martin’s relentless onslaught left him no room, and he remained totally against the ropes for the entire first round. He figured this was due to lack of practice and made a note to do better with keeping the fight in the middle of the ring.
When the bell for the second round rang, Redd was ready to execute his new plan of attempting to control the location of the fight within the ring, even if it meant giving up his reach advantage.
The second round was different, only because he took more damage to the flanks and head. He managed to keep the fight centered, but the powerful jabs and rib-cracking hooks kept coming, tight and fast. This technique worked well because he knocked Martin down for a three count during this round.
His arms hurt, and he didn’t want to believe he was this out of practice, but Redd knew the fight was drawing to a close. The bell rang and his relief was only outweighed by how old he felt. He was a little over 33 years old but felt twice that at this moment. At this point, his ringside doctor told him that his nose was broken, but Martin barely had any visible damage other than a black eye and a somewhat bloody nose.
Martin was grimacing, taunting Redd from the other corner. This was Redd’s biggest weakness. He couldn’t stand to be disrespected, and went from feeling helpless and old to infuriated in less than a second. This visible shift in Redd’s attitude startled the doctor who immediately backed off of the tall muscular tattooed man with the newly plugged bleeding nose.
In the third round, Redd came out swinging wildly, caring less about protecting himself and being more concerned with doing as much damage as he could to his opponent. This worked at first, and he even knocked Martin down for a five count this time, but Martin got back up, and as if rested and rejuvenated, continued with his flurry. Redd felt like his arm was sprained from getting one of his blows deflected with one of Martin’s own, and had some difficulty defending from then on. Redd’s thoughts began to blur, the pain taking over. He was soon just focused on surviving, making it to the end of the round until the bell rang.
Redd ignored his aching, damaged forearm and the fact that his nose was bleeding again. His head had never hurt quite like this before, but he knew that if he outlasted his opponent, and kept knocking him down he could still win. Martin was still jeering at him from his corner. Redd’s rage kept building up, and when the bell rang, he did the same as he did at the beginning of the last round, swinging wildly, packing as much power as he could into every punch, and maneuvering Martin instead of keeping his distance.
Redd sidestepped one of his opponents less well executed punches and Martin went down hard. He got immediately back up, but was dazed. With a vicious overcut, Redd punched him back down for a six count. Redd’s ears were still ringing from the blows to his head, his vision had gone white and he forgot where he was until he was back standing up. It was a sign of a concussion, but at least he had won this round.
At the start of the next round, they were both feeling winded. Redd’s rib was bruised and his arm was in pain, but at least still intact. He had a standing concussion from the punch to the top of his head, and the only reason his nose wasn’t gushing blood was the gauze stuffed in it. Martin wasn’t quite at a hundred percent either, his eye had swollen nearly shut and he had been moving so fast for so long that he was tired.
They leaned on each other a lot during this round, and Martin subtly head-butted Redd more than twice, which complicated the effects of the concussion caused by the overcut. A few moments before the end of the round, Martin backed off for a moment, and that’s when Redd came in swinging. Martin had come out of a grapple, stepped back and more or less running, swung hard at Redd’s face. Redd, his rage boiling over, returned the favor. He hit Martin on the “knock out button” on the jaw, completely dislocating it- causing a loose tooth to fly out of his mouth. This knocked Martin down for a four count.
Redd had won, but just barely. He wasn’t as proud of himself as he thought he would be. He had almost lost and was seriously out of practice. His ego was intact, but his body was battered and bruised. Upon examination after the fight was finished, the doctor told him that his arm was had a hairline fracture and put it in a splint for him.
As the doctors patched up his nose and other various injuries, Redd contemplated whether or not he should even continue with professional fights or just go back to teaching. He didn’t want to disappoint Anna; he wanted her to be proud of him, but how could she be proud of a boxer than can barely even win a fight without sustaining massive damage. Despite winning the match, he was completely beat up and felt crushed.