Chapter 4: Go time...
They matched me up with the heaviest boxer in the bunch, I was about 190... him maybe 200. His "stage name" (oh God... he has a stage name.... this can't be good...
) was "Mr. Olympia". The manager told us we would be fighting and, of course, I smiled and made my way over to shake hands with the man... who abruptly turned his back to me and started hitting the heavy bag.... son of a bitch..... I suddenly realized these boys were here to make money, and I was in(as usual) WAY over my head HAHAHA....
... as I listened to the first couple fights from that backroom, I remember the crowd "roaring" at the point each man was knocked down... at this point, the attendants came to me and asked me where my "equipment" was.... my blank stare obviously communicated to them to go and retrieve the "sucker" gear from the janitor's closet lol... these sombitches brought me this set of f%cking VELCRO WALMART boxing gloves... Literally, TWICE as big as anyone elses gloves.... "you have GOT to be joking...." .... they were not.... these gloves were like duct-taping a frickin' pillow over your fist and tryin' ta knock a bitch out.... it JUST AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN.
... again, that little voice inside my head said "RUN YOU DUMB SON OF A BITCH!!!! RUN!!!!!".... but... GOOD OLD PRIDE had other ideas.... "you can do this"
... velcro, "velcro'd" up "tight"
... they drug the loser's limp body out of the ring and called in "Mr. Olympia vs........... Noah." ..... here we go...
