The crowd reached a fever pitch as the action built.
Another right hand to the body and a left over the top had Simmons on wobbly legs. My heart was in my stomach. If this thing ended in the first round, I would be the happiest girl in the world.
But Simmons grabbed on to Luke, tying up his arms. They wrestled with each other against the cage and the crowd’s energy dropped a level as it was apparent that the champion had regained his bearings.
I was so close to the ringside commentators; I could hear what they were saying.
“Greer came out of the gate with a vengeance,” said one.
“Let’s hope he didn’t just blow out all of his energy trying to get an early stoppage,” said the other.
That didn’t scare me. I knew Luke had energy for days. Simmons landed a heavy right hand that sent Luke’s head snapping backward. I cringed.
The two fighters circled each other as the bell rang signifying the end of round one.
He came to the near corner and sat down on the stool. His trainers were telling him he was doing great… that it was close, but he won the first round.
The bell rang for the beginning of the second round. I couldn’t stand to watch anymore so I closed my eyes and listened to the commentary.
“Greer circles to his left. He’s doing a good job at keeping Simmons away from him with the jab.”
“Simmons shoots in to take him down. The fight moves to the mat.”
“Greer lands a big right hand. Simmons counters and sends the challenger reeling.”
The rise and fall of the crowd’s screams gave me enough insight into just how hard they were going at each other.
That’s how I followed those next three rounds. I hated to see him get hit.
By the time the fifth and final round started I had to force myself to watch. From what I could gather by listening to both the commentators and the guys in Luke’s corner, the fight was close. It was all going to come down to this.
Luke had a gash over his left eye that seeped blood. His body was red in some spots from the punishment. His opponent looked to be in far worse shape.
“Simmons lands a big left hand! Greer goes down to his backside to try to recover but the champ is all over him. This could be the end!”
Oh no!
“Simmons is throwing punches from the top. The ref might stop this fight!”
“Greer is swinging from his back. He’s trying everything he can to keep the champ off of him.”
C’mon Luke. Get up!
“Greer is able to tie up the champ’s arms and he’s leveraging himself back to his feet!”
Go.
“Both men are up now. The crowd is going wild. Luke Greer seems to have recovered but that exchange may have swayed the fight towards Simmons in the judges’ eyes.”
You can do this.
“The fighters separate and each takes a big deep breath. There’s less than a minute left to go in this fight!”
The crowd was back on their feet.
“Greer comes forward first. They trade punches but each man misses his mark. Time is ticking and if the challenger wants this fight he can’t allow it to go to the scorecards.”
“Simmons finds his mark with a kick to the front leg! Thirty seconds now!”
You have to go for it.
“Oh! Luke Greer connects to the chin. He follows up flurry to the body! The champ is having trouble getting his legs under him. There’s twenty seconds left. This is a fight for the ages!”
“Another right hand. Now a knee to the body! Simmons is down! Simmons is down! The referee is stopping the fight! Luke Greer is the new light heavyweight champion of the world!”
The ground shook beneath my feet from the roar that came from the crowd. Everyone in the building was jumping up and down and screaming their lungs out.
I opened my eyes to see Luke standing defiantly over his downed opponent. He raised his arms high above his head. When he turned, our eyes locked on one another’s.
“I love you,” he mouthed from within the midst of the chaos.
“I love you too.”
32
Bria
Luke was supposed to stay for the post-fight question and answer session with the media but he blew it off. He said he would probably get fined for it but he didn’t care.
We drove Las Vegas Boulevard with the top down on his rented Mustang. The warm air blew my hair back from my face.
“Are you really going to wear that ridiculous thing all night?” I asked.
He had his newly minted championship belt sitting around his waist.
“Hell yes. I earned this thing. Look at my face.”
His face actually wasn’t bad. Aside from the cut above his eye, he was no worse for wear. The doctor had done a really good job of stitching him up in the locker room after the fight. Somehow, it made him look even sexier.