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Part Four, p1 | |
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"Oh, my god! I've never seen anything like this! I don't know where that big blonde came from, but she's moving like lightning and Olga Remsky just can't seem to land a blow! Ow! What a right! What a left! Her fists are flying like napalm all over the Iron Curtain champion's head! Olga's rocking on her feet and the fight has just begun! My god! My god! The humanity!" The announcer's voice was going out over the radio from ringside. The fight, although an unofficial match was the most exciting thing anyone had ever seen or heard! People stopped to listen wherever they heard the man's shrill voice delivering the blow by blow details of the event. Giovanni felt a mixture of pride and disbelief at his new discovery. He stood in the ring watching the two huge powerful women going toe to toe. I could hear Olga groan each time I landed a blow to her head, saw teeth literally fly from her mouth as her lips split and bled all down her sweat drenched tank top. She tried to protect her face by holding her gloves up but that just left her brawny hard body exposed and I planted my glove into her midsection doubling her over and she stumbled dizzily in circles as I smiled and winked at Giovanni. 
I wasn't going to let her get a rest. I was torn between ending the fight as soon as possible and prolonging it for the sheer pleasure of having everyone on their feet cheering for me to beat the daylights out of the hot tempered European. Once she found her footing and came at me again, I clocked her once again on one side of the head and then the other. I was amused with myself for 'boxing her ears' the way kids do when they fight in the schoolyard. That's how I felt, like a tomboy beating up a hated rival in front of all the boys! I had my arm cocked and ready to deliver another blow to Olga's already torn and bleeding face, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth agape and dripping blood and spit. The bell rang distantly, but I caught myself before I threw the punch. I didn't want to get disqualified and Olga looked relieved to that the blow hadn't come. I was ushered to my corner and she to hers. She had to helped and struggled onto her stool where her trainer poured a bucket of ice water over her head to wash the blood out of her eyes. She was pressing her glove to her side like her ribs were broken and I just smiled when a photographer leapt to the ropes and took my picture with a bright flashbulb that left me seeing spots. Giovanni came up to me and I felt his warm hand touching my hot shoulder, caressing and patting me comfortingly. "Great job, Sherry. She hasn't got a chance against those hooks of yours! It's like you're hitting her with horseshoes! She can't take much more punishment." I nodded, like a seasoned palooka. "She can't take it, but she's gonna get it," I said dumbly. | |
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