The Winner
by Buck Dopp
“Nunez is pummeling Brady with lefts and rights. Brady’s eyes are swelling so bad, he’s looking like Charlie Sheen after a three day bender.” The announcer smiled and looked at the analyst.
“Yeah, and this is only round one. I’ll say this, he isn’t afraid of getting hit. I hope he has health insurance, he’s gonna need it,” the analyst laughed. The sound of a thousand people, cheering and the smell of sweat and blood permeated the arena.
After round five, the announcer stopped smiling. “If Brady’s here to get beat up for a pay check, he’s giving the crowd their money’s worth.”
The analyst commented at the beginning of round ten, “Looks like Nunez can barely get his stool. He’s probably wishing he’d trained for Brady instead of going on a book tour.”
The announcer called the final round. “Brady drives a hard right fist to the stomach. Nunez covers with his glove and groans. That hurt! Brady snaps Nunez’s head back with a stiff left jab then goes back downstairs with a right hook to the body. It was a devastating ‘Mexican liver punch.’ Nunez drops to the canvas like a rock and the referee starts the count, 1…2…3…4….”
The bell sounded before the ref could get to ten. The fight was over. Both boxers raised their arms claiming victory.
“Before I read the judges’ score cards, let’s show our appreciation for these fighters,” the ring announcer said.
The crowd erupted, “BRADY! BRADY! BRADY!”
“The winner, by unanimous decision…Emilio Nunez!”
“BRADY! BRADY! BRADY!” The crowd roared.
Nunez was carried out on a stretcher. Brady smiled and waved to the crowd as blood streamed from the corners of both eyes and dripped in pools at his feet.
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