Million Dollar Baby (7 page)

Pats say, “At least we didn’t have to take shit and piss medicine.”

Seven o’clock we at the weigh-in they have near the hotel pool.

Hundred peoples there, most of them fighters and corner men and hang-ons hoping to make a few dollars handing up the stool and water bucket. Me and Pats handle all that. Reggie weigh exactly 168, Dashiki 166. They got fresh fruit up there, and after making weight, Reggie eat it up while Pats pouring Pedialyte over ice like it be orange pop. Pats use a orange-juice carton he bring along so nobody know what Reggie be drinking. Reggie drink almost a quart while we doing the paperwork for the license, and he keep on eating grapes and cantaloupe and slices of orange. Pedialyte be nasty. Pats say to eat olives for the salt. New Jersey Commission man want the name of all the peoples working our corner. I give him my name and Pats’s.

He say, “This is only two. Rules say you can have three. You can have four at a title fight, but this ain’t a title fight, so you can have three.”

I say, “Two be fine.”

Commission man look at me like I don’t know the business, shake his head. I been in this game all my life, and Pats in it longer than me. We know what we need. What we don’t need is loud. Ain’t no fighter what can win a fight by himself. He like a racehorse. Even John Henry can’t win without the jockey. But you get too many mouths going in the corner and the fighter tune them out, he close down his mind and don’t hear nothing. That’s why me and Pats work alone.

I the chief second, the only one in the ring with Reggie for the introduction, the only one in the corner inside the ring between rounds, unless Reggie be cut. In the one minute we get, I got to grease him and tell him what he got to do. If he cut, Pats go in with his medicines to stop the blood. I work the water bucket outside the ring and talk. Otherwise Pats be outside washing the mouthpiece, catching the spit, watering the boy and cooling him down he need it. He use ice bags and stop-swell to bring down mouses and lumps. I get the stool into the ring, Pats get it out. He get the bucket up and down, unless he working a cut, then I do. All this be fast, no time to mess up. That why me and Pats work alone. Title fights same thing, we smooth like a BMW. Some corners be like a Chinese fire drill, everybody talking like they think they Eddie Futch. Between and during the rounds, I do the talking. I leave something out, then Pats say something, but most the time he quiet. Now, while the fight going on, outside the ring Pats be talking to me. I depend on it.

Reggie a fighter who have bad luck getting title fights because he too good. Everybody duck him. He 45 and 8 with 2 draws that he should have won. Eight of his KOs come from body shots. Had one title fight down South Africa but lost to the champ by a split decision. You lose on a split decision in the other boy’s hometown, you know you win. America judge give it to Reggie by two, what is right, it a close fight. Italy judge only give it to South Africa by two, and Italy judge a ho’, he be bought by the Africas. Nigga South Africa judge give it by ten to the Zulu. Three other times Reggie on the way to title shots, but he lose and have to start all over again. Like the last time five fights back. Now Reggie win his last four straight, two by kayo.

My boy Reggie fight so pretty they call him “Valentine” Reggie Love. He come in wearing pinky-red satin trunks with white trim and a white heart on the leg. He wear high pinky-red shoes with white laces. He wear a pinky-red satin robe almost to the floor that have a puffy white satin bow in the middle of his back two feet wide that got ribbons hanging down to the knees. Me and Pats be wearing pinky-red, too, can’t miss us, ’specially Pats with his white hair and the busted, spidery red veins in his nose and his red cheeks. We something. We a
corner.

After the weigh-in, the TV man come for the interview for before the fight. Dashiki say he in a hurry, say he want to go first. Reggie still drinking Pedialyte and bad be wanting to eat. He starting to hate Dashiki.

Dashiki a nice boy, serious and proud, he all muscle and bone and no loose skin. Twenty-six years old, and he hongry to be the champ, the way he suppose to be. Say this his big chance and he not letting it slip. He know that if he beat Reggie Love, that put him in line. Boy say he 27 and 0 with 22 kayos, say he got power in both hands he going to use to hurt the old man. Say he going right after Reggie. Say he want to take Reggie out early because he know Reggie a slick boxer, and that Reggie want the fight to go all the way so he can cop a decision. Dashiki say that he set everything up with his jab and come with his power behind that.

Dashiki say, “I hit him either hand, the old man go to sleep.”

What Dashiki don’t know is that we be listening behind the black curtain. What he can’t see be Reggie eyes.

When the TV man talk to Reggie, he tell him Dashiki want to take him out early

Reggie say, “Everybody want that.”

TV say, “He’s got that blinding right jab he knocks people down with. Does his being a southpaw mean trouble for you?”

Reggie say, “He a southpaw?”

TV say, “You mean you didn’t know that? You mean you haven’t studied tapes on him?”

Reggie say, “I don’t watch no tapes.”

TV say, “Every fighter I know watches tapes.”

Reggie say, “Why I watch tapes? I watch ’em, and now I be goin over the fight. Can’t sleep a lick a week before the fight because every night all night long I be fightin the fight.” Reggie smile. “Sometimes it go a hundred rounds. It don’t matter what I see on tape anyway, it all change when the bell ring. The boy change when he fight me, and I be different when I fight him.”

TV say, “What about all that jab and knockout power?”

Reggie say, “Lef’-hander’s right jab don’t bother me. I got a lef’ jab to bother him.”

TV say, “You’re saying you, as a rightie, are going out there to outjab a southpaw?, now, come on.”

Reggie say, “Didn’t say that. What I’m sayin is I’m goin take his jab away from him. I do that, all his power don’t mean jack.”

TV say, “How you going to take a left-hander’s right jab from him?, they’re always coming at you from the wrong side.”

Reggie say, “You watch.”

TV say, “What about you takin him into the late rounds?”

Reggie start talking like Muhammad Ali. He say, “Now, why I wants to go into da late rounds wit a Joe Fraaazier?”

TV laugh, shake hands. “Good luck, Reggie.”

It nine-thirty by now, and we all so hungry we ready to rob a 7-Eleven. Buffet a big place, high ceiling, got bright lights and two long places where they feed. Reggie crazy by now. He have spinach salad and matzoh-ball soup. He have grilled fish and baked chicken. He have fettucini Alfredo and mash potato with veal Marsala gravy. He have two bananas for the potassium, and three big ice tea with lemon. After all that, he have two peach cobbler with ice cream, and he still be drinking Pedialyte.

Reggie say, “I get my muhfuh seven dollars and ninety-five cent, plus tax.”

All us eat big, but nothing like Reggie. Next day early all of us have a bran cereal and prune breakfast in the cafeteria, eat apples and take a little walk on the boardwalk. It be cold but it feel good. Pats go find a Catholic church like he always do. At one o’clock we go back to the buffet and Reggie eat as much as he did the night before. Afterwards, he take a monster bowel movement and weigh 178 in the spa.

Reggie say, “I make Dashiki Jones pay for this seven dollars and ninety-five cent, plus tax.”

Reggie rest and then go to the toilet again about six. Fight go off at nine. By seven-thirty Reggie stomach be flat as a door and he ready. Before and after the fight he call home. He tough-looking, Reggie, and he dark. But he talk so soft and sweet to his wife and babies it make you eyes water.

Our private dressing be small but warm. It be stocked with water and ice and plenty of clean, white towels. Pats wrap Reggie’s hands and I warm him up good. They call us down and Reggie be sweating in his robe. Dashiki dressed like Africa, wearing a red and green and black and yellow dashiki for a robe, and a round hat same color. Trunks the same. Everybody in his corner wearing dashikis. Some fool beating a drum. Announcer make the introductions for TV and the crowd. Everybody yelling. Referee give instructions and the fighters touch gloves. Harvey be smiling on the far side. In our corner, I tell Reggie to bait Dashiki the first two rounds, see how he move, see what he do, hurt him when he can, but to stay loose and stay away from that power.

I say, “And breathe, baby, relax and breathe, hyuh?”

Reggie bob his head, he know. He know if you don’t breathe like a fighter suppose to breathe, you get tired. You hold you breath when you punch, you going to wear down. You get tired, and now you in the other man’s pocket. It happen to him his last loss. He don’t train hard because he think it be a easy fight. Other boy put pressure on Reggie, bang him to the body, and Reggie tense up and don’t breathe. The ref stop the fight when Reggie get hurt and be too tired to punch back.

Before the bell, Reggie touch hands with me and Pats. I get down ringside on the steps with Pats, and the bell ring.

Pats say, “Look out, Dashiki.”

First two rounds, Reggie tease him. He make him miss and then he make him pay. Dashiki talking to himself by the end of the first round. Corner men know Dashiki got power, so they don’t be worrying. They say take your time, press him behind the jab, and everything come. But Dashiki got doubt. He worrying because he never fight nobody before who know how to fight a southpaw. Reggie come to the corner feeling good, nice and relaxed. He breathing good.

Third round Dashiki move out like he chopping down a tree, feet all dug in so he can throw power shots. He miss with six big ones, then throw four more, only thing he hit be air. He try to move in and go to his right, but Reggie step outside his front foot and make him move to the left instead. To the right is where southpaws want to go, just like to the left be natural for a right-handed fighter. Dashiki move out to the right again, Reggie move farther out to the left. When Dashiki start to throw his big jab, Reggie jab his jab, hit Dashiki jab hard straight into the glove when the punch be partway out. That enough to take Dashiki balance, and that mean he can’t punch until he set up again. That simple thing be how Reggie take Dashiki jab. He do it all night long. Only thing Dashiki be hitting on Reggie be the arms and elbows and gloves. Reggie taking the boy to school. Dashiki desperate in the middle of the round. Most of his knockouts have came in the first three, but he can’t hardly hit Reggie. He come charging in with a big hook, but Reggie duck under. Reggie step to the left at the same time and hit the boy on the way in with a right to the gut, and then he come back with a left hook of his own to the jaw. Dashiki hands have came down from the shot to the body, and Reggie drill him with three stiff jabs to the nose and eyes that drive him back, make him blink. Dashiki never been here before, don’t know what to do.

Pats see it first.

Pats say, “Jeet, look. The boy can’t fight goin backwards.”

I wait and watch. Reggie do the same thing, and so do Dashiki. Pats right about Dashiki backing up. Pats my man. Bell ring.

I say, “Boy can’t fight backing up. Only time he hit you is when he walk straight in, when he take three or four to land one. Back him up’s what you got to do in there, hyuh?”

Now Reggie got Dashiki backing up, Reggie keep him going like that and keep on jabbing Dashiki jab. This open him up so Reggie can drop his right hand hard down the middle and come back with the hook to the body, hook to the head, and then he quick jab out and be clear of Dashiki power. Reggie keep it up. Sometime Dashiki manage to get his right foot outside Reggie left foot, and when he do he able to land a shot. But Reggie so quick Dashiki can’t get combinations off.

Some places the commission let you yell up to your fighter more than others. New Jersey letting Dashiki corner yell all they want, so I be yelling, too.

I say, “Stick him, baby, stick and move, back him up! He can’t fight a lick backing up!, see that? Stay on him!”

See, Dashiki can hear me just like Reggie can hear Dashiki corner. Dashiki hear me saying he can’t fight backing up, that mess with his head. Now he wondering how come nobody taught him to. Now he blaming his corner for his tore-up face. Now he ain’t focus on Reggie, and the old man be whipping his ass. Lumps coming up all along his left eye, what be closing from Reggie right hand. His short rib be killing him from where Reggie go to the body. Dashiki never been this deep. Reggie keep moving and pounding, then he be gone. Then he right back again, be whipping on Dashiki like he his daddy.

Pats say, “Reggie’s beatin him up, Jeet. Reggie’s beatin him
up.”

Ring girl come prancing by half bare-ass and holding up the round card. Now we in the fourth.

Reggie keep on putting a hurt on the boy. I yell to Reggie to relax and to have fun. Dashiki look over to me, can’t help himself. He can’t believe I be talking about fun. Boy never been in this water. Big strong boy, and he tough, he gain weight, like Reggie, but he tired from all that missing, from all that getting hit. He taking so many punches, he think he be fighting a drag queen with a purse. Pats and me see Dashiki be holding his breath when he load up to punch. We like that.

Pats say, “Look at those lumps, Jeet. Boy’s tough, but he’s never been hit. Eyes want to cry.”

Pats be right. I say, “Boy look like a los’ child.” I yell up to Reggie, “Stick and move, Reggie! Back him up! Dass it! He can’t fight backin up, baby! Stick him!”

Reggie hit the boy so hard he knock his mouthpiece out. Referee give it to one of Dashiki’s corner men, who wash it. Reggie standing near the corner where the ref tell him. Corner man twice drop the mouthpiece from the ring all the way down to the floor. He do that to give his fighter more time to rest.

Reggie something, he talk straight to the corner man from up the ring. He say, “Say, bro’, thanks for the res’.”

Corner man jump like he been stuck, but he grin and shake his head because Reggie so cool.

See, boxing look like it a muscle thing, like it be two fools up there just beating each other upside the head. It ain’t about the fighter using his strength, it about him delivering force. Boxing a mind game once you know the physical part. Now we deep into Dashiki mind, and he thinking about going home. But his pride won’t let him back down. Not yet.