This is going to be the last time. I'm not doing it again after this. I have grown so tired of the constant bullshit. I just want out. Luckily for me I am getting out, the bookies and the mob have set up a nice little retirement package for me. All I need to do is take the fall one last time. Then it's done with the lies and bullshit. And done with boxing in general. Just want a quite life after this.
What does it matter in any case if Luke 'The Hit-man' Owens goes down so some new kid can rise? It doesn't and that's why I'm doing it. The kid's name is something like Mike 'The Train' Wallace. The mob has high hopes for him, thinks he might be the next big thing. All I can say is good luck kid, once they have their hooks in you they won't let go until they have taken everything from you. The only reason they are letting me go is because I got old. Too old to be entertaining enough to bring in the big bucks.
The announcers voice booms through the stadium. "AND NOW IT IS TIME FOR THE MAIN EVENT! FROM THE BLUE CORNER STANDING A SOLID 6 FEET, WEIGHING IN AT 286 POUNDS AND WEARING HIS SIGNATURE BLACK TRUNKS WITH RED CROSS-HAIRS IS LUKE 'THE HIT-MAN' OWENS!"
That's my signal I turn the corner and make my way to the ring. The crowd cheers as fathers eagerly point me out to their sons. I'm from their era, their kids will cheer twice as loud in a minute. I see sympathy in some of the eyes. The kid has a bad rep. As I take my position in the ring the announcer starts up again.
"AND HIS OPPONENT, IN THE RED CORNER STANDING 5 FEET 8 INCHES, WEIGHING IN AT 264 POUNDS AND WEARING THE BLUE AND BLACK TRUNKS IS MIKE 'THE STEAM-TRAIN' WALLACE."
Steam train I was close enough. The crowd explodes with cheers and shouts as the young gun comes towards the ring. At 20 he is everything they wish they could be. The kid is literally half my age and build like a solid brick house.
After he takes his spot opposite me in the ring, the ref walks out to the center. We walk over to him as I have done thousands of times since I was a boy. The words haven't changed much.
"OK guys I want a good clean fight. I won't tolerate any funny business. Touch gloves walk to your corners and come out fighting."
We touch our gloves, Black to Blue and turn heading for our corners. We discard our stuff in the corner and get our mouth pieces in. As we turn back the bell rings marking the start of the first round. We both drop too our fighting stances. So familiar, so simple. We stalk each other, circling, looking for the first opening, drawing ever closer. I decide to make the first move. A right jab to the head, he dodges and answers with his own to the sternum. The kid hits like a hammer, I might not have to through this fight. I might just lose on my own.
We start exchanging blows fast and furiously. By the end of the first round the kid is clearly in the lead. He is knocking me about like a rag doll. And I am breathing hard I took a few hard hits to the ribs that round. But the kid hardly seems to be sweating. The bell rings again, and the second round starts.
I went down twice that round, the kid really has the right stuff. I'm not even trying to lose. But at least the kid has broken a sweat now. The bell rings to mark the start of the 3de round, as I get up I feel my legs wobble. This is my last round. I'm tired and I can taste the blood in my mouth.
We start again with the circling, I can see it in his eyes. He knows this is going to be the last round. Before I know it his first punch lands driving me down for the first time this round. I get back up slowly and groggy as hell. The ref asks me if I'm ok, I just nod my head. I start pacing back towards him again. I throw a punch and catch him on the shoulder but not long after I feel the skull splitting force of his punch landing on my cheek. It drives me back down, as I am getting on my knees I hear the ref scream 6 and I know there isn't much time left. 7...crouched now...8...pushing myself up...9...back on my feet.
"You okay?" I nod. "Want to give up?" I shake my head. "Okay, but one more fall and it's over."
I start moving back towards the kid, but before I can do anything he slams a final deafening punch onto my forehead. My head snaps back and I begin to fall, before I even hit the mat I know it's over. They can count to 20 I won't get up. I hit the mat and hear the ref counting. He reaches ten and rings the bell. The fight is over. All the while I'm counting to myself all the while trying to move. I reach 30 before my body starts to respond. It takes another 30 counts and the help of my crew to get me to my feet and back to my corner. As the doctor is checking me out I hear the announcer.
"THE WINNER BY WAY OF KNOCKOUT IS MIKE 'THE STEAM-TRAIN' WALLACE"
The crowd absolutely explodes after the announcement. The entire arena is filled with cheers, cat calls and clapping.
The doc gives me the all clear. Mild concussion, completely normal in the life of a boxer. The crew helps me back to the dressing room. There are coolers with ice packs and a change of clothes waiting for me.
I sit there with my ice packs for close to an hour. The gloves are off, and I'm sitting there with only my trunks on. Time for that shower, the crew left already. Headed for the club, they knew it was my last fight. Having a drink for old times' sake. I'm going to join them once I'm done.
As I'm getting dressed after the shower, a short fat man in an expensive suit comes in followed by a taller guy build like a slab of concrete. The fat man is Donald Connolly, the head of the mobs gambling and sport enterprises. The big guy is his bodyguard, I don't know his full name but everyone just calls him Bill.
"Well, well Mister Owens that was quite the fight me and my associate enjoyed it immensely. Didn't we Bill?" He says with a voice like velvet but with enough poison in it to kill an entire family.
"Yes, very nice." Bills voice was more of a grunt than anything else.
"I am very glad to hear that you enjoyed it Sir."
"A fitting end to a wonderful career. What are your plans now Mister Owens? What will you do with that generous retirement fund?"
"Live a quite life. Might start teaching boxing in a few years. But for now I just want to relax."
"An excellent plan, if I have ever heard one. But how am I to know you won't try to black mail us for more cash once your retirement fund dries up?"
"I would never do that mister Connolly. I have worked for you for over ten years, I would never betray you."
"That just might be true, but unfortunately you know too much for me to just let you go. Take care of this Bill."
As I turned back to face Bill I could see he already had a gun out. I hear the whump of the silencer and see the flash as the gun launches the bullet towards me. Bringing my death in a blow harder than anything I have ever had to endure. The little projectile hits home and my last thought before I hit the ground is. "Nope, they won't let you go until they have taken everything they can from you. Good luck kid. You're going to need it" After that everything faded to black.
In local news. The body of former heavy weight boxer Luke 'The Hit-man' Owens was found in the river today. His death was caused by a fatal gunshot wound to the chest. The time of death has been placed shortly after the fight last week in which Owens was defeated by Mike 'The Steam-train' Wallace. Police are still unclear why Owens was gunned down. Owens was unmarried and had no known children.
In other news. Is your dog getting enough exercise? More on this after these commercial breaks.
