Mando Bk. 01: Good Ass/Badass Ch. 05-06

"Yes, that thought upsets me to the marrow of my bones. Kammy, if I'd been unwilling to endure personal pain for their gain and benefit I'd cheat millions of women and children out of a better quality of life and health.

That's the reason our women's success stories tear at my heart with a vengeance. If I'd given up, look what I'd have given up for so many." My misery is obvious as I choke out the last words. "I'd be a thief that stole their hope for better lives and condemned them to a hopeless life of misery. See?"

Kammy bursts into tears. It embarrasses her so badly she rushes to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, and then turns into Mary Kay by fixing my makeup.

"Danny, you are an incredible role model for women. Looking beautiful and successful like you do now gives those abused and unwanted women hope of being beautiful and successful, too. I'm proud we turned you into a Cinderella doll."

Suddenly her mouth drops open and she's pointing at something behind me." Danny, your picture just flashed on the TV!"

I squint and bring the picture into focus. "Whoa mama!! That's Jack Glazier. Turn it up and let's see what's going on."

The news commentator is saying. "We're going live to Jack Glazier's press conference. Jack has held the world champion boxer title longer than anyone but the brown bomber, Joe Luis."

Thank you everyone for accepting my invitation to this press conference. I have three things I want the public to know. My first announcement is that of this minute I am retiring from professional boxing."

One of the reporters shouts, "You've had a consecutive ten year reign as defending Champ. The only fighter to hold it longer is Joe Lewis for twelve years."

Another sports reporter gets in a jab. "Jack you would've beat the brown bomber if the Dancing Hummingbird hadn't stopped your clock, right Champ?"

He laughs and takes the dig in stride. "You, sir, have brought up the second thing I want to talk about. I want to set the records straight about that fight."

The reporters go quiet. They smell tension and confrontation, and that makes juicy news. But to their and my befuddlement, that's not what he does.

"Ten years ago Danny Sterling, known as the Dancing Hummingbird, beat me in the first round of a championship fight. Later on the Oprah Winfrey show this is what she said." He points to a big screen to his right that springs to life.

Oprah and I are facing each other. Oprah says, "Champ, did you go into that fight determined to do what it takes to win? Did you know you were the best boxer in the ring?"

I laugh and shake my head. "Oprah, I hoped I could pull it off. I really wanted to. But to be sure, I was not the best fighter in the ring and I knew it. Jack Glazier is better than I'll ever be or ever was. It's the element of surprise that caught him off guard. I knew if I didn't win the fight early I wouldn't be vertical very long."

Oprah looks incredulous. "So you, the fighter that defeated the champion, don't think you proved you are a better fighter? Don't you feel like the champ?"

"Oprah, my dad taught me that the one who wins the fight isn't necessarily the best fighter. The winner is only the best at that moment in that round." I shake my head again. "No, he's still the best, I just had enough good seconds to come out on top. I knew the longer the fight lasted the best fighter would win, and, unlike Rocky Balboa, I didn't think I could go the distance. And unlike Cassius Clay, victory didn't make me feel like the greatest. It was strategy and surprise that won that fight."

The screen goes blank and Jack steps back into view. "You heard what she said, but I want to set the record straight. I and many of my fellow boxers and trainers studied that fight, the fights with four other men, and her last fights in the women's league. In the women's ring her knock out rounds in her last six ten round fights were in this order; round five, seven, nine. Then eight, six, four. He pauses for affect. "Does that seem random to you? How about this one. The four before that was, six, eight, six eight. That doesn't' sound random either, does it?" He shakes his head. 'How about the four men's twelve round fight" The final rounds were ten, eleven and eleven ten. Random?" He shakes his head again. "I don't think so."

The reporter's expressions are thoughtful and serious. He has their attention. Mine too.

"Now for the mind game. In my last fights against former champions she fought, what round did the longest fight end in?" He paused while reporters scratched their heads. One old veteran's face beams and he shouts, "By god in was the ninth. Your longest fight against those same fighters was nine, but her shortest fight was TEN! You won all fights quicker than she did, but she won none of her fights as quirk as you did! Well I'll shake and bake a snake if that was random!

"Hell no," another shouted. "That was psychological warfare on the hoof to give you false confidence." another added, "Worked too, didn't it?"

"And shot up the odds too, I recon." Another reporter  quips.

Jack laughed. "I think you're discovering how meticulous and exact she was."

"Good God Almighty! I missed all of that!"

Jack chuckled. "Me too. But watch, there's more to come."

He turned sideways to face the screen. "Watch the close up of the knockout blow of yours truly. If you think I am ashamed of it, you're mistaken. Once I studied this short round I sat in awe. Watch in slow motion." The screen wakes up and he and I are going to our corner's as the referee says, "go to your corners and come out fighting with the bell."

The bell clangs, and we head toward each other. Jack gives a play-by-play commentary. "We parry to get the feel of each other's rhythm, cadence, punches, and so on. Here it comes. Her left hand drops slightly giving me an opening. I go for a hard punch with my right and she does something unexpected because it's never won a fight for anyone."

"See it? Ba She doesn't block my punch, she meets it head on with a powerful punch of her own, throwing my rhythm and balance off and rattling my teeth with the impact. Keep watching. That same hand comes back and backhands me beside the head, followed so fast by another punch they looked simultaneous. There! There's the left jab to my solar plexus angled slightly downward which bends me slightly forward to my left, and her right instead of back. This positions her arm and body for the knockout punch."

He pauses and scans the group of reporters. "Notice her body positions and stance for each punch ends in the perfect angle to give full power to the next punch by throwing all her weight into it for maximum impact. But here is the slick part. The third punch is only a split second behind the second, thereby using the same body swing to empower both punches. This sends me hard toward the pile driver. It's that combination of speed, placement, and impact that sets me up for her power blow."

He puts the picture back on. Here it comes, WHAM! Her knockout punch hits me like a dump truck. Again, the angle of her punch is slightly downward." He eyes the audience again. "Knock out power punches are straight or slightly up unless your opponent is very short. That explains why this is the first head over heels knockout in the history of boxing. No downward angle, no flip. Watch the rest in slow mo. My feet fly up and off the mat. My head whips back with such momentum I do a complete somersault and land face down. The ref reaches ten and I'm still out."

He holds up his remote control and hits the back button. "Let's watch the whole fight without interruption.. He clicks the remote and the short video clip hops into motion.

The audience watch in silence, looking for anything else they missed

He turns off the screen and tosses out more questions. Does her movements look spontaneous? Choreographed? Lucky?

"Choreographed, but damn Sam! How is that possible?:

Instead of answering he continues with, "We've seen that she chooses the round to put the opponent down and does it every time in a predetermined sequence. Pop quiz, you sports journalists, what other fighter has demonstrated that much control?" He pauses to give the group time to answer.

Two reporters shout at once. One says, "No one!" the other says, "None. Nobody. Zip."

Jack's gold capped tooth sparkles as he grins. "Exactly. Next question on this quiz: Name another boxer that knocked an opponent off his feet for a complete flip." 

"Can't, because there's not one," an old timer sports writer with at least thirty years on the circuit states with authority. Apparently his word is indisputable; there are no further comments.

The Champ shakes his head. "No, there isn't another one in the books. OK, try this: Who knocked out a boxer in the first round that was fifty pounds heavier, two inches taller, and with a longer reach,and stayed knocked out for fifteen seconds?"

A reporter shouts, "Hummingbird."

Another reporter responds. "This is the only one I know about," another reporter declares.

Jack bobs his head with enthusiasm. "None, that's right. Now that you've seen the fight from beginning to end, did you notice the moves were so seamless they looked choreographed? He shifts on his feet and tosses out another rhetorical question. "What champion has the shortest fight and quickest win​?"

Three voices sing out. "Joe Luis!"Danny Sterling." "The Dancing Hummingbird."

He grins. "Hummingbird. Right again. Until that fight the record was tied at fifty-two seconds, but Danny Sterling, the Dancing Hummingbird's record of forty-two seconds still holds."

"I don't see it falling any time soon, Champ, do you?" A reporter quips.

Jack bobs his head in agreement. "No. That's a number to beat, alright because it's ten seconds less than the rest of the best. Now back to her answer to the Oprah interview. Danny Sterling said she was not the best fighter, and implied she wouldn't have lasted many rounds against me. Remember?"

The reporter's heads bounce up and down like they're riding on a flatbed truck on a rocky road accompanied by a chorus of yes's.

"I told you that a group of pros analyzed fourteen consecutive fights against women and all her fights against men. Our conclusion is different from hers. But before I tell you that, answer one more question. Name the boxer that won the world championship and retired as promised, without defending the title?" He nods his head once and says, "same answer. Danny Sterling." He pauses, shifts on his feet in those trademark  hand sewn size fourteen shoes, sips water, and continues. "Historically, champions defend their title as long as they can. If they lose the championship fight, they try to win it back. But not the Hummingbird. Know why?"

The reporters shake their heads.

"Because she wasn't fighting for the title."

A lot of expressions buzz though the crowd like, "Huh? And, "what? "You're kidding."

He flashes his gold tooth smile and scans the audience to allow a pregnant pause to build suspense. "That's right. She was fighting for something much bigger. Something that benefited others instead of herself." He pauses again while his eyes pans the room. A picture of the Hummingbird Foundation Women's Center is on the screen behind him. "You've certainly heard of the biggest complex in the world that shelters battered women, has an adoption agency with a place for unwed mothers to live and unwanted pregnancies to be adopted instead of aborted? The women's medical park and cancer research hospital and much much more. The foundation has the second largest aviary park in the world. The park does more than protect and rescue birds from death, disease, and extinction: it provides its' residents and locals employment. Everyone know what I'm talking about?"

Heads nod and bob.

"That's what she was fighting for. The money to fund the initial stages of the hummingbird foundation came from the fight. To date, the foundation has neither borrowed nor begged for money. It accepts donations, but have made no public appeal for funds. The foundation is self supporting."

A reporter shouts. "Come on! She didn't make that much money. That center cost hundreds of millions of dollars."

The boxer flashes his gotcha grin. "Imagine what a million dollar bet would have won if bet on a knockout in the first round at a hundred to one odds."

"A hundred million dollars by god!"

He's still grinning. "What if the foundation put five million on the line?"

"Five hundred million dollars. Ye Gods! Did that happen?"

"When you consider what the Hummingbird Foundation has accomplished so far, it doesn't seem that far fetched, does it?"

"Wait Champ. Just hold on, If they bet millions on a first round KO, she and her trainer and manager would have to had iron clad confidence she could pull it off."

Jack nods, "The proof is in the amount her manager and trainer wagered. When I visited those boys a couple months later, they both were retiring. Both had bet a bundle on that fight and made millions. Now that is confidence."

An older reporter a wearing a fedora and the expression of a flabbergasted man almost yelled his question."Wait a minute champ. Are you saying all those knock-outs in sequence, and later than your former fights imply this was her plan all along? Knock out the four preceding fights late to set the stage for high odds in the first round in the Championship fight?"

Jack bobs his head. "Yes. She was so sure of herself that her foundation and family put millions on one thing; a knock out in the first round. He showcases the rest of his pearly white teeth with a wide smile. "None of the other knock-outs were random, do you think this one was pure luck?"

"My god! She was better than anyone knew!"

"Holy cigar smoke! The fight was a fundraiser!"

The group changes from being orderly  to a buzzing bee hive. I couldn't hear their comments because they were away from the microphones, but they were rattled.

I slap my lap hard. "After all these years I'm busted Kammy. Damn!"

The old time reporter seems confused. "Excuse me champ, planning and executing an upset fight like would take a long time with a lot of input from experts. It looks like it was planned, but I'm not sure.

Jack's whopper of a grin looks frozen in place. "I asked her trainer and manager how long she worked toward the championship. He said, "She worked harder than any fighter I've ever trained for thirty-four months from start to finish."  He mutters.

"Two months shy of three years."

Her Manager says, "Yes sir, Champ, from the day the egg was laid to the day it hatched was a hair under three years. She never let up.

Murmuring among the reporters gets louder until Jack resumes. "I asked whose idea it was it to lay that egg. Know what he said?"

After a brief pause and a few shaking heads, Jack answers the question. He says, "Danny Sterling. Her idea from the first day until the last. We agreed on a training program that took the stamina of a dozen elephants. That didn't faze her. We went from there."

Jack pauses and scans the audience and continues. "The trainer said she never let up. "She refused to throw in the towel even when she desperately needed a break, or to least slow down a little. Everyone of us saw an incident that helped me understand the Hummingbird. Want to know about this mystery woman? He asked the audience? "Want to hear it what he said?"

The reporters yells and shouts all meant the same thing: "Yes." They wanted all they could get about this mystery woman who became a world champion and disappeared.

"He told me, after the women's championship fight he'd just patched the cut under her eye, and tapped her wrist, when he suggested she needed downtime, like a month off to recoup and regroup, and rest. He told Danny, "You're the champion woman boxer of the world. You deserve a break."

Jack pauses, "Her reply? I wrote it down. I'll read it to you."

"I deserve it? What do battered wives and children deserve? And unwed mother? What do they deserve? Young girls forced into prostitution and sold as sex slaves. What do they deserve? And uneducated women locked into dangerous, and destructive relationships because they can't support themselves and their kids. I'm talking about financial bondage god dammit. If they don't deserve that, do I deserve a month off?"

Jack looked up from his notes. "The manager marked that day as the day everyone in the gym understood her end game and exit strategy weren't in the ring. He told me, "We believed in every fiber of our being that if any woman fighter could defeat the men's past and present world champions, it would be her.  She could do it.".

Jack surveys the reporters. "How about it folks, random or intentional?"

"Intentional by god."

"Intended, planned, and executed. Damn!" Another blurts.

It took two minutes to calm the tellers, writers, and showers. They were hyped and pumped to the max. Jack tapped on his glass. "Excuse me everyone, we're almost done.'

The old veteran reporter/doubter threw up his hands in retreat "You going to drop another bomb Jack?

Jack guffaws."I sure as hell do have another bomb, so stay tuned, and stay here."

When he addresses his audience, they go quiet instantly, not wanting to miss anything jack wants to say.

Jack resumes, '"Remember Danny Sterling told Oprah it was strategy and the element of surprise that won the fight? Now you know the strategy. When a group of professional fighters reviewed and studied this fighter and the title fight, our unanimous opinion is that Danny Sterling, the Dancing Hummingbird is the greatest boxer ever to step foot in a professional boxing ring."

A hush falls over the crowd, and for some reason I don't' get, I burst into tears. Kammy shouts "Oh my god! Oh. My. GOD!!"

It hit me hard. I needed time for his words to sink in and understand. I have never considered comparing myself to others as meticulously as he did, nor did I think of any other reward than the women's center.

The reporters process the statement in stunned silence.

Jack continues "Therefore, I thank you, Ms Sterling, for being so kind to me on the Oprah show by insisting I was the best fighter, but that is wrong. You were better than any of us."

He scans the stunned, silent audience before resuming. "That is the second thing I wanted to say, which leads me to the third thing. I do hope Ms Sterling is listening because we weren't successful in contacting her before the press conference." He looks straight into the camera. "The unanimous decision I mentioned was made by the selection committee for the boxing hall of fame. Danny Sterling will be inducted into the world boxing hall of fame in August of this year."

The reporters erupt in excited exclamations, noises of delight, awe, and applause.

Not me. I can't breathe. I can't think. I'm what Marines refer to as having a numb-nuts moment. Kammy is jumping up and down screaming, giddy as hell. She stops and points at the TV again. "Shah. He's saying something else."

"Danny Sterling is the first woman to be inducted into the World Boxing Hall of Fame. Congratulations, Danny Sterling, your Hummingbird was an elite, unique and superb dancer."

The reporters burst into more applause and yelling. Kammy grabs my hands and swings me around in circles like she's not eight inches shorter and seventy-pounds lighter.

When we quit dancing Kammy stares at my face. "Oh my. Your makeup needs another touch-up, Champ."

When I make no move to leave after my war paint is touched up she becomes Attila the Cunt. "Danny, get off your ass and march it down to the banquet hall. Now git! Scat! Scoot!" and adds, "Champ."

I sigh. "Oh, Kammy, you know I'm no quitter. I came this far, and by god, I'm going through with it, but I'd better hurry before I change my mind."