In the Footsteps of Hemingway by Ray Knight

Author:Ray Knight
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781909908246

Micky knew the song word for word. It was an old favorite – but this night the words stung him almost as much as Santos’s punches had.

‘Turn that damn song off willya, Freddie? Find me something a little more cheerful.’

The corner-man turned the plastic dial, found a Latino station playing Bachata and hummed along with the melody. Micky relaxed under Joe’s soothing hands and felt himself drifting in mental and physical limbo. His troubles faded into the distance and he began to doze off.

The door burst open, shattering his brief respite, causing him to twist and turn upright in surprise. The quick movement sent a cramp through his neck and he winced in pain. He grimaced even further when he saw the cause of the disruption. The lime green suit assaulted his eyes and the man’s cologne overpowered the scent of Joe’s magic ointment.

‘Micky! Just stopped by to congratulate you once again, champ. Never say die, kid… always in with a chance when you carry a punch like that!’

Joe straightened and stared coldly at the promoter, ‘Get the hell outta here, Butch. You’re not welcome.’

‘Now don’t be so hostile, Montoya. I’m here to do your boy a favor.’

‘Your favors he can do without, you slimeball. Get out before I call security.’

It was an empty threat and they both knew it. Big Butch Green’s bodyguards had a well-earned reputation for brutality and the stadium’s security guards wouldn’t even approach.

‘Micky, I’m offering you the main event in my next show. You against James Morrison for the undisputed Middleweight Championship. Top billing, kid. Nationwide TV. Biggest purse you ever got! Waddaya say?’

‘He says get the hell outta my dressing room,’ said Joe, moving to the door and opening it wide. The huge back of a hulking bodyguard blocked the doorway.

‘Don’t listen to that washed up old man, Micky. Take my card – call me anytime, twenty-four seven. I guarantee you six figures, kid. Think of it!’

‘He don’t want no part of it, Butch. The guy nearly killed him last time. Now get out, I won’t tell you again.’

‘Micky had an off night. He’s got a chance. A puncher’s chance, Montoya. Don’t rob the kid of this opportunity. They don’t come along often. Big Butch Green only comes a-knocking once.’

The big man pulled a silver business card case from his pocket, removed a gold embossed card and placed it on the massage table inches from Micky’s hand.

‘Twenty-four seven, Micky. Don’t forget. Six figures, kid.’ He winked at Micky, nodded at Freddie and brushed past Joe as he left. Joe slammed the door behind him so hard the walls shook.

‘Bloodsucker.’ Joe spat the word out like a bad taste.

Micky picked up the card and turned it over. It was thick, expensive and heavy just like the man who’d given it to him.

‘Throw that card in the trash, kid. You don’t want no part of that fight.’

‘Joe, it’s a big purse.’

‘It’s a big curse is what it is, Micky. You ain’t never recovered from the beating Morrison gave you last time.

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