Page 37 of Punchline
“Mr. Jake!” José started trying to climb me. “Can I sit on your shoulders? I’ll see so far!”
“You might bang your head on the ceiling, kiddo,” I warned him, but I let him up, then turned to look at Ethan, who seemed confused. “He does the kids class at Beth’s gym,” I said.
“Ah.”
I sighed. This wasn’t exactly how I’d foreseen our date going, but all we could do was roll with the punches. There was no sitting room left, so we found a spot to stand against the back wall where we could see decently, and I bounced José up and down a bit as we waited for the first fight to start. “It could be a while,” I said. “So if you want to get some food or?—”
Just then a man in a T-shirt that matched the gym’s double-glove logo bounded up into the boxing ring in the center like his ass was on fire. “Let’s get this night started, huh?” he yelled into the mic. I saw Camila ringside with her arms crossed and figured this was the “Pete” she’d gone to hurry up.
“We’ve got nine fights tonight: seven boxing, two kickboxing. Let’s start with a ladies’ match, huh? From CasaAlvarez, fighting at one-hundred and two pounds, Mikayla Jones!” There was a bunch of applause as a young woman who couldn’t be more than five feet tall entered the ring. She had on red shorts, a sports bra, and dark hair held back in cornrows beneath her headgear. She grinned and waved at the crowd, but I could tell she was nervous from how she pounded her gloves together in an effort to hide her shaking hands.
“And from The House of Pain, weighing in at one-hundred and five pounds, Valentina Bivola!” This fighter was a good three inches taller, with long blonde hair in a single braid and a stern expression. There was more applause for her, and then Pete added, “It’s their first smoker, so let’s make sure we lift ‘em up, huh?”
The ref came out and explained the rules, the ladies tapped gloves, and then the bell rang. The fight was on, anddamn, was it on.
“Holy shit, they’re fast,” Ethan said, eyes wide as he watched the women circle each other, exchanging jabs and crosses at a quick pace as they probed for weaknesses. He seemed to suddenly remember José. “I mean, holy smokes.”
“You can say shit,” José told him with all the maturity a four-year-old could muster. “Mommy says mierda all the time.”
Time to move this conversation along.“Fights at welterweight and below are some of the most active,” I said. “People like to watch the big guys go at it, but the smaller fighters usually have better stamina.”
I could tell it was on the tip of his tongue to say something like “I’d watchyougo at it,” but mindful of our audience, he bit it back.
The bell rang, and the ladies went back to their corners for water and to talk with their coaches. “One-minutebreak,” I said. “Each round is scored, and then whoever has the most points overall wins the match.”
“Would you ever switch to boxing?” Ethan asked as the ten-second warning sounded.
I laughed. “No way. I’m too old to get really good at this, and I prefer a sport where I can end things without having to deal out a TKO.” Submissions were my happy place, thank you very much.
The women’s fight ended up going to a decision, and all three rounds were decided in favor of Bivola. I nodded even as José booed. “She got more solid hits in. Jones moves well, but she needs to work on her targeting. She’ll do better next time.” Camila was giving her fighter a pep talk, but it really was a good first showing. “If she decides to try and move up the ranks, this won’t count against her record,” I added. “That’s what smokers are for, gaining experience in a more professional setting without putting your record on the line.”
A bottle shattered somewhere outside, and two guys began shouting at each other. Several people near the door ran out to see what was going on, and for a second I wondered whether Ethan was bugged by how verynotromantic this was.
Then he knocked his shoulder into mine and smiled at me. “Sounds like the second half of a home game. You want a beer?”
“Coke, please.” I’d save the alcohol for a night when I wasn’t driving.
The next three matches were more first fights, and all of them went to a decision, although one of the kids came out swinging so hard in round one it was clear he was hunting for a knockout. His opponent had great footwork, though, and made an art of dodging until the initial rush ofadrenaline had run out. Then he picked the other guy apart with body shots and slipping, and ended up being the first Casa Alvarez win of the night.
Camila joined us again after that fight, taking her drooping son from my shoulders. “Thank you,” she said with a sigh. “Bobby was supposed to corner the young ones solo tonight, but Mikayla wanted me to stay and then… ” She shrugged. “But it’s only House of Pain fighters for the kickboxing, so I slipped away.” She looked from me to Ethan. “And who is this?”
He held out a hand. “Ethan Bernier, ma’am.”
She smiled as they shook. “I’ve heard Carson mention you! You play with Marek, right?” Camila winked at me. “What is it with you guys and hockey players, hmm?”
“They’re hard to resist,” I said. “I mean,Icouldn’t.” Ethan ducked his head, and I was pretty sure if it wasn’t so hot in here I’d be able to see him blushing.
We chatted through the kickboxing rounds, which mostly consisted of fighters bouncing around with the occasional head kick thrown in, and then it was time for the more experienced boxers to take to the ring. The seventh fight was another women’s match, both fighting at one-forty-five, and it also ended up being the first knockout of the night—by none other than Mikayla’s older sister, Shavonne. Right before the bell, she wound up for a beautiful left hook, got her opponent’s hand to drop, then nailed her with a right cross to the jaw that sent her to the mat. The House of Pain fighter tried to stand but staggered instead, then went down again.
“Oh, fuck!” Ethan shouted, then clapped his hand over his mouth, but somehow José was fast asleep even as his mother screamed with glee.
“That’s mygirl!” Camila yelled. “Es una chingona!”
At the end of the eight count, the fight was called in Shavonne’s favor, and the cheers rocked the building. Good thing it was after business hours, because it would be impossible to get anything done on either side of this place right now.
The eighth fight was between the biggest guys of the night, each of them heavyweight fighters. Neither of them came within forty pounds of me, but they were still big, and they were surprisingly technical too. Both guys were bloody by the end of it, and Casa Alvarez’s fighter carried it by a split decision. There were a lot of boos from both teams, and some shoving in the audience before Pete got people to back down.
“You wanna get the cops called on this place because of a stupid riot?” he snapped into the mic. “Sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up, motherfuckers! Alexi, Iwillcall your grandma!”
