Battling Boxing Stories. C. J. Henderson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ had forgotten that Adams had managed one of the main event fighters on the Atlantic City card. He must have seen Bobby in the prelim. “I want you working my corner for this one,” he said. “You’re cut will be fifteen hundred.”

      “Is that okay with Harry?

      “Screw Harry. He’s just gets the fights. Your money is coming out of my end anyway. So if I say you get fifteen hundred, you get fifteen hundred.”

      I walked with him to the steam room. “No more than fifteen minutes,” I told him. “And don’t rehydrate all the way afterwards.”

      2.

      When Bobby and Mike entered the ring, Biff Tucker came over and stood next to me. “Heard Bobby’s substituting next week in the Adams fight. Should be a good pay day for him.”

      Biff ran his gym like boot camp. The gym rules were posted on every wall and were to be obeyed. Dues were to be paid on the first of the month and on the second; any locker with unpaid dues had its lock clipped and the contents tossed in the trash. While Biff loved the boxing game, he knew it was a business and maintained that any fighter that didn’t know it was a business didn’t belong in his gym.

      I went over to Mike’s corner to talk to him before they sparred. He had a funny look on his face.

      “You think he’s still pissed off about last night? I was just cracking on him to have a little fun; I didn’t mean anything by it?”

      “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I want you to stay out of range and double and triple your jabs when he closes, just like Adams will. Let’s see what Bobby has today.”

      McCarthy nodded and slipped the mouthpiece in. When the bell sounded he was up but Bobby was already in the center of the ring. McCarthy circled, staying away, the funny look still on his face. Bobby was having none of it. He danced left, then right, each step closing the distance, cutting McCarthy off. Mike suddenly found himself near the corner and pumped out a double jab with his right, trying to keep Bobby away until he could move off. Bobby slid to his left just before the second jab and ripped a vicious hook to McCarthy’s midsection, following with a second hook upstairs and that landed flush on McCarthy’s head gear. Even through the padding Mike was stunned and when he tried to turn and face Bobby, his movement was awkward and off balance. Bobby threw a straight right that landed flush on McCarthy’s cheek, driving him into the ropes.

      “Move off the ropes, Mikey,” I yelled at McCarthy, “You’re getting paid for three rounds of sparring.”

      He tried moving away but Bobby was back in front of him, sending another left hook, this time to the liver and the sound made everyone in the gym stop and look towards the ring. Just in time to see the second hook come over the top and land again on the side of McCarthy’s head, a sold thwack on the padding.

      Bobby then threw a three-punch combination: a right, a left hook and another right, and when McCarthy tried to slip the first right, the left hook caught him flush on the nose and the right slammed into his cheek bone. Bobby danced back into the center of the ring and motioned at Mike to come after him.

      “Just keep pumping that jab, Mikey,” I yelled, watching McCarthy shuffle towards the center of the ring where Bobby was dancing, a smile on his face. He was measuring McCarthy, waiting for him to step inside the punching arc and when he sensed McCarthy was there, he double jabbed first, both punches hitting Mike on the nose, causing a bright red stream of blood to flow. McCarthy stepped back and pawed at his nose with a glove and stared at the bloody smear on the leather.

      I knew now that the funny look on his face was the look of fear. Bobby knew it too and stepped in and threw two more jabs before sliding around the counter left McCarthy automatically sent back. Bobby bent underneath the extended arm and delivered a hard right hook that some might have called a kidney punch. McCarthy dropped to a knee and stayed there, unable to move, and the bell sounded.

      Back in the corner, Bobby was breathing easily. I tilted the water bottle and he rolled the liquid around in his mouth. “Just keep slipping the jab,” I told him, “but you don’t have to unload on him with everything you have.”

      “Why not? I’m paying him to fight three rounds. So let’s see the fat fuck fight.”

      “Let’s see that he makes it then.” I walked over to McCarthy’s corner.

      “How do you feel?” I asked him.

      “My ribs hurt real bad, I think something’s broke.”

      “Nothing’s broke; you’re just a little of out shape. Keep moving and jabbing but this time close the distance once in a while and hook and give him some straight rights. Let’s see how he can handle that.”

      McCarthy nodded. He might be scared of Bobby’s power but he wasn’t a quitter. The bell sounded and he moved slowly off his stool and started toward the center of the ring where Bobby was waiting. This time he danced right, then left and moved in on Bobby first and snapped out a couple of jabs that hit Bobby’s gloves. Bobby glided again around McCarthy’s right, forcing him to turn and punch. When he did, Bobby threw the double left hook again, right to the solar plexus and upstairs to the nose. Blood started streaming again and McCarthy instinctively pawed at the swollen proboscis with his left glove. But as McCarthy turned Bobby had danced back around so that he was now at an angle where he ripped another solid left hook to the liver, and then again in the same spot. McCarthy dropped to both knees and rolled over.

      Bobby stood over him for a moment and then walked away.

      I jumped into the ring and ran over to McCarthy and waved my hands. “It’s over for today.”

      A couple of fighters came into the ring and helped McCarthy back into the locker room. I walked over to the corner where Bobby was sitting, his head gear was off and a wide grin was spread across his face.

      “You busted Mike up real good. He’s through, he won’t be back.”

      “I was sick of hearing his mouth anyway. So who’s next, I’m just getting started.”

      “That’s it, I don’t have anyone else. So you’re going to work the heavy bag for four rounds and then I want you to run afterwards. Since you’re so hungry for a brawl, I’ll have two sparring partners for you tomorrow.”

      That afternoon Harry showed up at the gym. Jack was in the steam trying to knock another half-pound off.

      “How’s he look?” Harry asked.

      “Terrific. He ran five miles and then sparred three tough rounds. I used Mike McCarthy so he could have a lefty to punch at. Don’t think McCarthy’s coming back. Bobby busted a couple of his ribs.”

      Harry arched his eyebrows. “The line in Vegas has Adams as the 8-1 favorite.”

      “That’s about right, if you haven’t seen Bobby’s workouts since his last fight. But the word’ll be out about the beating he gave McCarthy today and it should narrow.”

      Bobby came out of the locker and walked over to us. He was dressed in a sweater and jeans and looked relaxed.

      “How do you feel, kid?” Harry asked him.

      Bobby smiled. It was a big boyish grin. “I’ll be ready. More than ready.”

      “What СКАЧАТЬ