“Don’t run!” I hear Jude roar from my corner. “Elbow that fucker in the head!”
I try to follow my uncle’s advice, bracing myself on one hand while I raise my other arm and deliver a crushing blow to the top of Vinny’s head with my elbow. He manages to twist his head and absorb the worst of the hit before letting go of my waist to grab the arm I hit him with. A mad scramble ensues as I lose my balance and fall to my side, both of us kicking and squirming as Vinny tries to secure a grip on me while I try to get my balance.
When I feel my back hit the cage wall, I know I’m out of room to run. I try to use the support it offers to push myself back to my feet. Vinny is still right on top of me, though, lying across my legs, his bulk making it impossible for me to get back up. I hammer my fists down on his ribs and back, mixing it up by throwing hooks to try to find his face, which he keeps turned away from me as he grunts and heaves, trying to flatten me out on the canvas.
“Ain’t like practicing with your daddy, is it, boy?” Vinny mumbles through his mouthpiece as he manages to drag me forward a few inches, rolling his body up to my abdomen. “Thought you were gonna waltz in here and dance around a while, then just step over me on your way to fame and fortune? I got news for you, little boy. This ain’t your little family gym anymore, and ain’t nobody here scared of you or your family. You ain’t shit, your daddy and your uncle ain’t shit, and the only thing your pretty little sister is good for is waving ‘round cards and taking dicks. You precious little bitches ain’t no fighters.”
The entire time Vinny is monologuing to me he keeps my legs pinned, resting and recovering against me. I keep struggling to break his grip, pushing valiantly at his shoulder and hip to slide him back down my body, but I don’t have a decent angle to move him. We exchange weak punches wherever we can, but neither of us are in a position to do any real damage. This stalemate continues until mercifully the bell rings to end the first round.
“Up, up,” the referee commands as Vinny takes his time getting to his feet. They both walk away as my dad and Jude bring a stool and the water bucket into the ring, quickly sitting me down and toweling me off.
“That wasn’t so good,” my father rumbles. “Fat bastard looks like he just wants to sit on you and try to suffocate you.”
“It’s not a bad plan,” I gasp as I take a quick sip of water. “He’s really fucking heavy.”
“He’s going to keep trying the same shit,” Jude hisses. “You hear Jax and I yelling at you during the round?”
“Only a little,” I confess. “Didn’t expect the crowd to be so loud. Never heard anything like this.”
“Yeah, that’s okay,” Jude says. “Look, be ready for him when this round starts. When he shoots in, you greet him with a knee, or an uppercut, whatever you can to knock him off balance.”
“Don’t take him to the ground, though,” my father cautions. “He wants that.”
“Time, gentlemen,” the referee calls.
I stand up and bounce easily on my feet, still feeling good. Vinny rolled me around for a while, but neither of us did any real damage. When the bell rings and the referee raises his arm, Vinny and I both approach the center of the ring.
Jude was right about Vinny’s fight plan. As soon as we’re close enough, he lunges forward again, arms spread wide to sprawl his mass against me. It’s a sloppy move and shows how little he thinks of me as a fighter.
When I hop forward and bring my knee up to meet his face, I can feel his confidence shake as his lip splits and blood splatters on the canvas. I try to follow up with a vicious hook, but Vinny flops flat onto his back as the referee rushes forward to check on him.
“Don’t fall for it!” I hear my father yell from outside the cage. He roars his warning so loud that it even carries over the cheers from the crowd, and I immediately check myself before I rush forward to try and pound Vinny into the ground. It’s a good thing I did too; because a moment later, Vinny grins at me while still lying flat.
“Maybe you do got a brain on ya, kid,” Vinny says as he spits a line of blood to the side. “Hope you’re better at lawyering than you are at fighting,” he adds as the referee waves him back to his feet.
As soon as he’s back up, I rush forward, throwing punches from every angle, driving him back into the cage wall. He covers his head with both hands, so I aim lower, my fists thudding into his hard, round gut. The referee moves forward again as the cheers around us reach a crescendo, and I slow my assault as I think he’s about to stop the fight.
“Don’t let up!” I hear Jude howl, just as Vinny hurls himself forward off the cage wall. I hadn’t noticed him bracing one of his feet on the fence behind him, and when he rockets towards me, I’m momentarily stunned. He grabs my right arm in both hands and immediately drops to the mat, twisting his body so that I’m jerked to the ground with him.
Before I can get my bearings, Vinny has a leg across my neck, with my arm stretched out across his torso. He leans back into the arm bar, putting all of his weight into a desperate attempt to get me to
