This is funny. I can't stop laughing.
I have to get this one out of the way.
Always remember! No matter what happens. I'm the problem.
It's the guy with the Beemer.
I'll keep it as short and sweet as possible.
Meatballs is in the ring. Who wants to box? Come on, someone box with me.
As far as I'm concerned he doesn't exist. We're on layoff after the gloves.
There's no coaches/trainers there. None of the equipment is out. No one is
wearing wraps. I'm skipping rope, pushups and situps. Lucky if I spend an
hour there. A couple floaters are there from other gyms.
You seen that fight the other day? Yeah he was throwing good combos.
I was watching Paz. Check it out the shoe shine. That looks like fun. I'm
going to try. That's all it is. We're hanging out and goofing off.
From out of nowhere some guy walks in with his girlfriend. He's sharp
and clean cut. Meatballs yells, can you get in the ring with me. He says
yeah, just give me a minute to warm up. He grabs a chair and sits his
girlfriend ringside. A couple of minutes later he gets in the ring. The buzzer
sounds. Meatballs is throwing dukes. I decide to pull out my Polaroid
and yell say cheese. Meatballs puts his chin up for the flash and that's
when I start to sing the lullaby. Go to sleep. SSHHEE! POW! His head snaps
back. BOOM! He hits the canvas. Meatballs is out cold. OH MY GOD!
What should we do? Take his wallet. He's completely unconscious.
I thought they were going to have call him an ambulance. A couple of
minutes later and he wakes up. He's literally punch drunk. He might
have a concussion. Who knows, nobody here is a doctor. After ten
minutes he starts walking around and now starts yelling.
I GOT KNOCKED THE @$%$@ OUT! Repeatedly, over ten times.
We're not even ten percent of the people that occupy the building.
Everyone hears what's happening. I have nothing to do with it. I'm
low man on totem pole. I go home.
My friends ask me what happened. How did you find out? From him.
Ask him. He's not telling us. He got in the ring with a national fighter.
One shot and he went down. That's all it was. Oh okay thanks.
The next day the ref from the club fighters match shows up and
questions me about the incident. I tell him I saw the whole thing.
He was throwing haymakers and bombs like if he was looking to
rip somebody's head off in a street fight. The other fella had no choice
and was forced to defend himself. He was put in a position where
he had to beat him to the punch. He had it coming to him.
Thanks for letting me know.
I have to get this one out of the way.
Always remember! No matter what happens. I'm the problem.
It's the guy with the Beemer.
I'll keep it as short and sweet as possible.
Meatballs is in the ring. Who wants to box? Come on, someone box with me.
As far as I'm concerned he doesn't exist. We're on layoff after the gloves.
There's no coaches/trainers there. None of the equipment is out. No one is
wearing wraps. I'm skipping rope, pushups and situps. Lucky if I spend an
hour there. A couple floaters are there from other gyms.
You seen that fight the other day? Yeah he was throwing good combos.
I was watching Paz. Check it out the shoe shine. That looks like fun. I'm
going to try. That's all it is. We're hanging out and goofing off.
From out of nowhere some guy walks in with his girlfriend. He's sharp
and clean cut. Meatballs yells, can you get in the ring with me. He says
yeah, just give me a minute to warm up. He grabs a chair and sits his
girlfriend ringside. A couple of minutes later he gets in the ring. The buzzer
sounds. Meatballs is throwing dukes. I decide to pull out my Polaroid
and yell say cheese. Meatballs puts his chin up for the flash and that's
when I start to sing the lullaby. Go to sleep. SSHHEE! POW! His head snaps
back. BOOM! He hits the canvas. Meatballs is out cold. OH MY GOD!
What should we do? Take his wallet. He's completely unconscious.
I thought they were going to have call him an ambulance. A couple of
minutes later and he wakes up. He's literally punch drunk. He might
have a concussion. Who knows, nobody here is a doctor. After ten
minutes he starts walking around and now starts yelling.
I GOT KNOCKED THE @$%$@ OUT! Repeatedly, over ten times.
We're not even ten percent of the people that occupy the building.
Everyone hears what's happening. I have nothing to do with it. I'm
low man on totem pole. I go home.
My friends ask me what happened. How did you find out? From him.
Ask him. He's not telling us. He got in the ring with a national fighter.
One shot and he went down. That's all it was. Oh okay thanks.
The next day the ref from the club fighters match shows up and
questions me about the incident. I tell him I saw the whole thing.
He was throwing haymakers and bombs like if he was looking to
rip somebody's head off in a street fight. The other fella had no choice
and was forced to defend himself. He was put in a position where
he had to beat him to the punch. He had it coming to him.
Thanks for letting me know.