Fiona left, and Tegan turned her attention to the nearest TV screen. The main event was minutes away.
“Welcome, from wherever you are watching around the world, to Fight Night. The biggest, most prestigious prize in the sport is being offered up tonight. The Heavyweight Championship of the world, being defended by the current holder Ricky Chozen…”
The mention of his name brought a small smattering of support from the people around Tegan.“...and the former holder Brent Diaz.”This mention drew a much larger round of applause.“John, how do you see this one going?”
“Thank you, Dave. Yes. Well, it’s definitely one of the most unique title fights in history, I would say. The first time, ever, a current champion faces off against the previous champion when the latter was never beaten for his belt.”
“Great point there, John. We all know Diaz’ last few months so no need to go down that road again. In a recent interview, Diaz said that he still considers himself the champion, and he will unleash hell on Chozen for ‘stealing’ his belt. Now, we all know fighters pump themselves and their matches up, but he did seem serious about this.”
“I heard the same, and yes, he seems to consider Ricky Chozen a paper-thin, fake champion. Or, as the hashtags trending on social media put it, a usurper. For what it's worth, whether a marketing ploy or not, the people have responded. A great crowd in tonight. I just have a feeling they’ll be disappointed. I can’t see anything but this fight being over, and over quickly. Diaz wins, and wins by knockout.”
“Well, he is the heaviest of all heavyweights, but he has been out of action for a while, John. That could affect things like his timing.”
“Yes. But, as great a fighter as Ricky Chozen is, he does not have the ability to go toe to toe with Diaz. Diaz hits like an express train. He’s manhandled opponents in the past, and he may not get the opportunity this time, but given his strength and aggressiveness versus Chozen’s composed style, Diaz wins comfortably.”
“Well, for me, it’s a Diaz victory too, but I’m going with a submission victory in round two. Let’s head down to the ring for the entrances...”
Fiona made her way back to their table with a whole tray of shots for her and Tegan’s lone, tall glass of lemonade. By the time she had sat down, and downed her first, Diaz had entered the ring. It was only then Tegan noticed...
“Oh my God...”
The man’s physical presence was a sight to behold. Not only was he head and shoulders taller than everyone else in the ring but also twice as wide. He had a permanent scowl etched on his bald head, eyes as black as a great white shark, and a caged lion look about him as he paced back and forth, waiting. A giant, muscle-bound lion.
Tegan managed to glance at Fiona, who noticed, speaking to Tegan yet staring at the screen. “You can’t tell me he isn’t juicing. Looks like a condom full of walnuts.” It was her turn to scowl as she downed another shot, sneering at him she said, “Fuck, I hate you.”
Ricky Chozen looked like a buff school boy standing in front of Diaz, and Tegan scoffed.Who the hell takes this shit seriously?The ref did, obviously, as he relayed his instructions. The rules or whatever. But this was David v Goliath, and there was not a stone to throw in sight. The fighters retreated to their sides, and the crowd, on the screen and around Tegan, exploded with anticipation. Tegan, though, scrunched her napkin as the bell sounded.
She gasped as Diaz bolted forward.
“Watch the superman punch!” Fiona screamed at the screen, presumably at Chozen. Diaz leapt high and came crashing down with a slinging overhand right that Chozen tried to block with both forearms. But the strike split through his block, snapping his head back like a mouse trap.
Fiona swore and sunk back into her chair as the crowd screamed. Diaz flipped Chozen over his own body and slammed him so hard to the mat his entire body bounced. Diaz didn’t fall to the ground and cuddle like the few matches Tegan had seen. He simply went down on one knee, over Chozen, and proceeded to bash his skull repeatedly as he lay there with his right fist. The bell sounded, and the ref, who was even smaller than Chozen, gripped Diaz by the shoulders, attempting to make him stop.
Diaz, at that moment, had the other guy by the hair. Chozen was completely slack in his arms when Diaz dropped him with a thud Tegan could almost hear, raising both arms in victory as Chozen lay there. Not moving.
Tegan’s mouth hung open, fearing the worst as Chozen’s team rushed to him, blocking him from the camera’s view. The next shot, though, made Tegan’s stomach turn harder. The view switched to the camera just inside the ring, and the screen was splattered with blood. It was only a second, and someone at the Pay Per View broadcast must’ve seen it and ordered another angle switch, but the sight itself was disturbing to Tegan. Not only had that punch rocked Chozen, it had split him open with blunt force trauma.
Tegan looked away. She couldn’t watch Diaz’ cringeworthy smile as he was congratulated by the interviewer. Congratulated? Seriously? Chozen, who was nothing more than a crimson mass, had only begun to move just then. This was insane. Diaz was proud of what he had done. Arrogantly smug.
“Well, there you have it,”came the TV presenter’s voice over.“One of the shortest title fights in recent memory. But not an unexpected result, and we would like to add that it looks like Ricky is OK. He’s talking but being taken to hospital as a precaution.”
“Yes, indeed. Good news for him and his family. And also, it must be said well done to Brent Diaz. Yet another dominant display, as we’ve come to expect from him.”
“Absolute powerhouse performance. Make no mistake, if this result doesn’t send shivers down the division, the way it was done will. Ricky Chozen is a seasoned fighter and Diaz made him look second rate in less than seven seconds. He gets to celebrate now, and then his attention will turn to his next opponent. The winner of the Connor Williams, Owen Gasnier matchup.”
Fiona whistled at the screen. “He’ll give you a fight you cheating bag of rice crispies. Gaz will give you an A grade Aussie arse whooppin’. Aye Teegs? Teegs...”
The sound had diminished all around Tegan the moment the announcer mentioned Owen again. She was now unable, or unwilling, to move. She wasn’t sure. She felt numb tingles at the base of her skull. It wasn't until she felt moisture on her cheeks that she realized she was crying. And it took a moment for her to understand why she was crying.
She rushed from the table and headed to the first bathroom she could find. She burst through the door and crashed to her knees at the toilet bowl, violently sick and sobbing. Her back arched as she gripped the slippery porcelain as best she could. A few seconds later Fiona was there rubbing her back.
She flushed and turned so she could sit next to the bowl, trying to catch her breath.
“Why did you bring me here?” Tegan asked, holding her head.
“Huh?”
“Why didn’t you just let me stay home?!” Tegan asked as more tears flowed down her face. “Why do you have to make me think about this fucking sport when all I want to do is move on and not think about him!I hate this!” she screamed, leaning her head back. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Forget what I said. It’s not your fault. This is so fucking stupid, me feeling this way...”