Behrend Showcase LOIS HEISE - Creative Writin . q Major Walking along the sidewalk outside Erie's Bayfront Convention Center, the sunny day was turning into a pleasant evening along Lake Erie's bay. It was this Pennsylvania city's mixed martial arts sporting event appropriately named Beatdown on the Bay 2, and that's just what I expected. Once inside the main room, my eyes went directly to the ominous octagon in the center of the large room. Circling the cage was a single row of tables and chairs; the rest of the room had wooden folding chairs fanned out surrounding the octa gon. Four large teletrons hung on the walls. People were everywhere. The program showed the first fight of the night was my son's. Good, I thought, get it over with right away. I sat on my wooden chair in the row chosen by my two oldest sons and people watched young and middle-aged men and women mill around. There were a few children, the twenty-somethings wore baggy pants, and their ball caps turned sideways. Men gawked at women walking by and most people held a plastic glass of beer in each hand. I was tempted to ask my oldest son for a swig of his beer to help keep my nerve up, but I did n't. The escorts for the fighters were two blond girls, probably in their twenties, who kept walking back and forth close to the cage, which made me wonder who got more attention - the fighters or the girls in their black bikinis and high heels. The disc jockey played blood pumping music like "Bad to the Bone" and "Highway to Hell." In between, he re peated announce f buying beer at the back of the room where no lines existed. When it came t . roduce the fighters, my son, Nick, was escorted down the aisle by one of the gir hile they played his theme song, "Car Wash." He played this same song during high hopl swim meets to pump up his fellow athletes. At the start of the first round they louc ed gloves and mostly boxed or did standup. This reminded how I tched J Fraz and Muhammad Ali on television with my father as ato irl. w taking asy at first, evaluating each other. - ‘ f I used one-two combos. Nick's oppl following Nick's, causing Nick's 111 , king him swing wildly, and becai . Nick's right knee found its wa: I unded sending both fighters t' :16' 4 \ \ ' Haddie eased herself across the front porch, the arthritis in her hind legs starting to show in a heavy limp. She licked at her water bowl, a prior rain. The food bowl was empty. Len was drinking again, slept in. When he woke up to the sound of the neigh bor's lawn mower, Haddie was beginning to whine through the screen door. There was a note: Went to Lynn's place. He forgot when the last time she left was, just like he forgot to go to church on Sun day. These were the times that a bible proved extra useless to him. He'd just forget what it said anyways, so he didn't see a point to it anymore. Trying to remember the names of the faces in the pews, what sickness the priest's mother had, the next church outing, it was all for the birds. He just drank his coffee, letting his memory roll off his moustache like the steam. Len fed Haddie, added some extra for her wait. "What, no tip?" Len says, petting the back of her head, her beagle's ears falling onto his hand, back down to her chin. The coffee drowns his need for a cigarette. "It's about time you quit," she says. He never felt much need to tell her no, only when he'd had a few. Last night was one of those times. As the shots were slowly pulling Len's eyelids closed, he watched Lau reen packing her suitcase, grabbing the keys to her car. He remembered to mumble, to drool, didn't remember her birthday though, or their anniversary. The look on her face when he handed her his grandmother's apron but pawned his great aunt's sap phire brooch. He forgot that she still wore it even though most would consider it a rag, with its aged grease spots and torn edges. In an hour, he was supposed Harld B; bers, so Len figured a shower passing his wife's art room. and grays with hints of yello , rather good, he had to admit, their first date. He bought hel it over to him across the picni The fair was popular that yea sausage but not to get their with Harvey Gross, a gold ems out of Harvey's back pocket showed it to one of them, ahr "The thing about it is that it' vey scowled, laughed later ow When Len walked back down: his shirt, there was an officer the man in blue and asked, "' "Hello, Mr. Jacobs," he said, found her body in a car up tl say this, but, uh, she didn't m, A look of confusion spread me, this dog, and them fields The officer looked back to checked the paperwork in h, Leonard?" Len knelt, pet Haddie agal her. Certainly ain't my wife. ' them Oak County Jacobs' be I think I might have their nu, 11)y Sint Sig6t Forgetting "Show Yourself' fight because I protected my child' ley to watch him get beat up? My hu vent I decided to go in case he need ity in case I wanted to write about it ;d to go by Joe, my oldest son, who ;le brother's first fight. Nick's young came to support Nick. There we all • waiting for brutality me calls from the audience, "Yeah, uttering under my breath, Damn that ►onytail. Nick's opponent came out first at Nick slamming him up agai, crowd. the cage floor, so watching the te, nderstand what I was watching. Thy and explained the fight scenes. Thy 4111 rush. A double leg take down oc( NATHAN CARTER Showeade Editor when Brian wrapped his arms around Nick's legs and rushed him against the cage. Nick countered by wrapping his legs around Brian's body in a guard and putting his knee in between both their bodies. Nick then moved his hip to prevent Brian's head and arm control in what's called passing the guard. Nick explained when you kick someone; don't keep looking at where your kick lands or you'll end up with a fist to the face like Brian. The loud crack made the crowd go nuts. The second take down mimicked the first one with the same basic scenario with Nick up against the cage. This time, Nick hooked his left arm around Brian's head, locking his left hand onto his right; however, he couldn't get his knee between their bodies due to the pressure of hugging each other. Just then the bell for the end of round two rang. The second and third rounds were more intense than the first, but not like veteran fight ers. Both Nick and Brian were amateurs. So was I. I didn't doubt Nick could fight well because I had been watching him learn martial arts since he was seven years old. I made bi-weekly treks to classes, until he could,drive himself at age sixteen and no longer needed my taxi services. t was a martial a4Viimom; knowing belt advaniiement, talking the lingo, rattling off sparring and tournament rules, and spending morevoney on his uniforms than groceries. Would I have done that if I knew he would someday get a li cense to get beat up? Round three started with a deep voice yelling "Go Nick" from somewhere in the crowd. Out from of their corners, slapping hands, punches flew back and forth until Brian shot quickly into Nick for another double leg take down. Damn that hair. The crowd thun dered with excitement. Nick told me later he anticipated this ground strategy, so after he hooked a left fist he stepped back, widening his stance. Brian's fatigued attempt at a take down failed when Nick grabbed Brian's head to prevent it. After a few punches thrown between them, Brian rammed Nick, lifting him against the cage. Once on theiloor, Nick hooked his arm under Brian's, his right leg around Brian's right leg, andventered his weight using his hipstsiyrn himself over. A verbal wave of excitement came from the crowd when Nick showed control by pushing hard twice. Be fore Brian could create space between them by getting on his hip, Nick flattened him hi Ipponent's chest. Throwing fitting on his opponent. He submission. Nick called it Iponents hugged each other. - -N,f drolcen edge o. all tiaught like the flick of a light switci burden, and he's sure it won't matter by They found the dark souls in his father' They aren't in the attic anymore. "Enthusiasm is excitement with inspiration, motivation, and a pinch of creativity." - BO BENNETT - SEASONS IN THE WATER: Extended Exposure in the Gorge STEPHEN FYFITCH -,IfETil/ay;tr An in front of me. Sorry for ht. I turned and apologized • son that won. The woman 't, only because :ast end up with a )oy an , .nd that fight he had b - .me more of a of greliafte. him. j, e to he led OitIOR do ion id endure 04 s rt for hid err ing what some of us in our larks on a bucket Souls CARTER ne dies; when the world goes black
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers