Ward-Gatti 2

I'm thinking I'm gonna start posting some old stories when nothing current is tickling my fancy. I remembered this one on Saturday when Shal and I went to the Celtics-Nets game. Before I get to the story let me just cover this game. Nets are chasing the last playoff spot, playing division rival Boston, and it's a Saturday afternoon. Place was maybe half full. Pathetic. They deserve to lose this team to Brooklyn, which I pointed out to any Nets fan that heckled us even mildly with, "Yeah, have fun Brooklyn!" This is the ultimate insult to a sports fan, having your team move away. Anyway, Vince Carter scored 24 points in 1st quarter, 48 overall, and the Celts lost by 25. Whatever, it was a cool Saturday afternoon. I'd gone to get a beer for me and a soda for Shal. I returned with a beer for me and apology for Shal. "Sorry hon, huge line at soda/popcorn/icecream/nachos/hot dogs stand. No line at beer stand." The exact opposite thing happened at the Ward-Gatti fight. I'm waiting in this huge line for beer and a soda, sold only at the same place. They run out beer. This is a boxing match with a boxer from Lowell, MA verse a boxer from Jersey City. Now I've never been to another fight, but this place was full of fucking animals. I mean crazy looking, fucked up, and violent. So when the stand we are all in line at announces they are out of beer, the pre-riot starts brewing, everyone is angry. Scratch that, everyone was already angry just because they were insane. Everyone gets angrier. I figure fuck it, I'll grab Shal her soda and try to find another beer stand later. "Hey, just let me get a Diet Coke!" I yell not thinking. Well, I might as well have yelled, "Hey, bring me a little boy to molest, I'm a big homo!" The crowd went silent and turned on me. I of course realize my mistake, "Fuck off, it's for my girlfriend." I think the "fuck off" bought me the tiniest bit of breathing room, and the biggest one there turns to me and goes, "You brought your girlfriend to this fucking bloodbath?" Me laughing, "Yeah, She's a fucking lunatic, huge Ward fan. We're both from Lowell." This saved me. The guy and his buddies were from Lowell, so we shared some stories and I kept my ass cherry intact.
The fight was incredible. Ward getting pounded then coming back in Rocky-like fashion giving me chills and goosebumps. The whole place jumping up and down and shaking the rafters. Best feeling I had at a live event since the old Boston Garden and the Larry Bird led Celtics. Ward lost but it was amazing, as anyone who watched that series of fights can attest. Good thing too, cause it was on the same day as Karen's Thanksgiving bash, the only one we've missed. We spent the rest of he night gambling and getting drunk. The night ended at a black jack table when the pit boss put up a sign saying that the table was changing from $15 to $10 at 2am. When 2am hit, I pointed this out to the pit boss. She goes, "That sign is wrong, it's really changing to $20." "You can't do that! That stupid sign is the only reason I'm still here." "We can do anything we want, it's our casino." My drunken anger rising, "That fucking blows." "Excuse me sir." "You heard me." "Using that kind of language will force us to ask you to leave the table." "At $20 a hand, I'm leaving any way, so fuck you, fuck your casino, and fuck your stupid little sign!" Shallon drags me away at this, point. Another notch in my asshole belt!