Read Online Million Dollar Baby by F. X. Toole - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: F. X. Toole
Ads: Link
eyes.
When the TV man talk to Reggie, he tell him Dashiki want to take him out early
Reggie say, “Everybody want that.”
TV say, “He’s got that blinding right jab he knocks people down with. Does his being a southpaw mean trouble for you?”
Reggie say, “He a southpaw?”
TV say, “You mean you didn’t know that? You mean you haven’t studied tapes on him?”
Reggie say, “I don’t watch no tapes.”
TV say, “Every fighter I know watches tapes.”
Reggie say, “Why I watch tapes? I watch ’em, and now I be goin over the fight. Can’t sleep a lick a week before the fight because every night all night long I be fightin the fight.” Reggie smile. “Sometimes it go a hundred rounds. It don’t matter what I see on tape anyway, it all change when the bell ring. The boy change when he fight me, and I be different when I fight him.”
TV say, “What about all that jab and knockout power?”
Reggie say, “Lef’-hander’s right jab don’t bother me. I got a lef’ jab to bother him.”
TV say, “You’re saying you, as a rightie, are going out there to outjab a southpaw?, now, come on.”
Reggie say, “Didn’t say that. What I’m sayin is I’m goin take his jab away from him. I do that, all his power don’t mean jack.”
TV say, “How you going to take a left-hander’s right jab from him?, they’re always coming at you from the wrong side.”
Reggie say, “You watch.”
TV say, “What about you takin him into the late rounds?”
Reggie start talking like Muhammad Ali. He say, “Now, why I wants to go into da late rounds wit a Joe Fraaazier?”
TV laugh, shake hands. “Good luck, Reggie.”
It nine-thirty by now, and we all so hungry we ready to rob a 7-Eleven. Buffet a big place, high ceiling, got bright lights and two long places where they feed. Reggie crazy by now. He have spinach salad and matzoh-ball soup. He have grilled fish and baked chicken. He have fettucini Alfredo and mash potato with veal Marsala gravy. He have two bananas for the potassium, and three big ice tea with lemon. After all that, he have two peach cobbler with ice cream, and he still be drinking Pedialyte.
Reggie say, “I get my muhfuh seven dollars and ninety-five cent, plus tax.”
All us eat big, but nothing like Reggie. Next day early all of us have a bran cereal and prune breakfast in the cafeteria, eat apples and take a little walk on the boardwalk. It be cold but it feel good. Pats go find a Catholic church like he always do. At one o’clock we go back to the buffet and Reggie eat as much as he did the night before. Afterwards, he take a monster bowel movement and weigh 178 in the spa.
Reggie say, “I make Dashiki Jones pay for this seven dollars and ninety-five cent, plus tax.”
Reggie rest and then go to the toilet again about six. Fight go off at nine. By seven-thirty Reggie stomach be flat as a door and he ready. Before and after the fight he call home. He tough-looking, Reggie, and he dark. But he talk so soft and sweet to his wife and babies it make you eyes water.
Our private dressing be small but warm. It be stocked with water and ice and plenty of clean, white towels. Pats wrap Reggie’s hands and I warm him up good. They call us down and Reggie be sweating in his robe. Dashiki dressed like Africa, wearing a red and green and black and yellow dashiki for a robe, and a round hat same color. Trunks the same. Everybody in his corner wearing dashikis. Some fool beating a drum. Announcer make the introductions for TV and the crowd. Everybody yelling. Referee give instructions and the fighters touch gloves. Harvey be smiling on the far side. In our corner, I tell Reggie to bait Dashiki the first two rounds, see how he move, see what he do, hurt him when he can, but to stay loose and stay away from that power.
I say, “And breathe, baby, relax and breathe, hyuh?”
Reggie bob his head, he know. He know if you don’t breathe like a fighter suppose to breathe, you get tired. You hold
When the TV man talk to Reggie, he tell him Dashiki want to take him out early
Reggie say, “Everybody want that.”
TV say, “He’s got that blinding right jab he knocks people down with. Does his being a southpaw mean trouble for you?”
Reggie say, “He a southpaw?”
TV say, “You mean you didn’t know that? You mean you haven’t studied tapes on him?”
Reggie say, “I don’t watch no tapes.”
TV say, “Every fighter I know watches tapes.”
Reggie say, “Why I watch tapes? I watch ’em, and now I be goin over the fight. Can’t sleep a lick a week before the fight because every night all night long I be fightin the fight.” Reggie smile. “Sometimes it go a hundred rounds. It don’t matter what I see on tape anyway, it all change when the bell ring. The boy change when he fight me, and I be different when I fight him.”
TV say, “What about all that jab and knockout power?”
Reggie say, “Lef’-hander’s right jab don’t bother me. I got a lef’ jab to bother him.”
TV say, “You’re saying you, as a rightie, are going out there to outjab a southpaw?, now, come on.”
Reggie say, “Didn’t say that. What I’m sayin is I’m goin take his jab away from him. I do that, all his power don’t mean jack.”
TV say, “How you going to take a left-hander’s right jab from him?, they’re always coming at you from the wrong side.”
Reggie say, “You watch.”
TV say, “What about you takin him into the late rounds?”
Reggie start talking like Muhammad Ali. He say, “Now, why I wants to go into da late rounds wit a Joe Fraaazier?”
TV laugh, shake hands. “Good luck, Reggie.”
It nine-thirty by now, and we all so hungry we ready to rob a 7-Eleven. Buffet a big place, high ceiling, got bright lights and two long places where they feed. Reggie crazy by now. He have spinach salad and matzoh-ball soup. He have grilled fish and baked chicken. He have fettucini Alfredo and mash potato with veal Marsala gravy. He have two bananas for the potassium, and three big ice tea with lemon. After all that, he have two peach cobbler with ice cream, and he still be drinking Pedialyte.
Reggie say, “I get my muhfuh seven dollars and ninety-five cent, plus tax.”
All us eat big, but nothing like Reggie. Next day early all of us have a bran cereal and prune breakfast in the cafeteria, eat apples and take a little walk on the boardwalk. It be cold but it feel good. Pats go find a Catholic church like he always do. At one o’clock we go back to the buffet and Reggie eat as much as he did the night before. Afterwards, he take a monster bowel movement and weigh 178 in the spa.
Reggie say, “I make Dashiki Jones pay for this seven dollars and ninety-five cent, plus tax.”
Reggie rest and then go to the toilet again about six. Fight go off at nine. By seven-thirty Reggie stomach be flat as a door and he ready. Before and after the fight he call home. He tough-looking, Reggie, and he dark. But he talk so soft and sweet to his wife and babies it make you eyes water.
Our private dressing be small but warm. It be stocked with water and ice and plenty of clean, white towels. Pats wrap Reggie’s hands and I warm him up good. They call us down and Reggie be sweating in his robe. Dashiki dressed like Africa, wearing a red and green and black and yellow dashiki for a robe, and a round hat same color. Trunks the same. Everybody in his corner wearing dashikis. Some fool beating a drum. Announcer make the introductions for TV and the crowd. Everybody yelling. Referee give instructions and the fighters touch gloves. Harvey be smiling on the far side. In our corner, I tell Reggie to bait Dashiki the first two rounds, see how he move, see what he do, hurt him when he can, but to stay loose and stay away from that power.
I say, “And breathe, baby, relax and breathe, hyuh?”
Reggie bob his head, he know. He know if you don’t breathe like a fighter suppose to breathe, you get tired. You hold
Similar Books
