Adam was thoroughly uncivilized, but he got into trouble in his next match. He had broken a knuckle on his first foe, and he badly needed that knuckle to use on the second. Suddenly, he was on the bottom, his hands trying feebly to block the fists and the crowd cheering at his pain. At last, there was no way out. He gave up with a scream of rage.
On another mat, Izzy used a nice rib choke to subdue his first foe in about 15 seconds. Shannon the Cannon got away with an elbow to the skull, and after that his opponent offered little resistance. One by one, they plowed through the bodies, and then they stood facing each other. Izzy got the takedown. "Good move," said Cannon. "Hey, thanks," said Izzy, as he began punching him in the ribs. The referee barked, "No love stories!" but by then, it was too late. Cannon had politely requested no punching, and Izzy had agreed. It was professional courtesy; there was no sense in getting hurt out here. Izzy finished Shannon the Cannon off with a quick ankle lock.
For John "the Beast" Lammons, meanwhile, the day had been most relaxing. He had not broken a sweat. Each time it was his turn to fight, his opponents had gotten a look at him and had thrown in the towel. Now, sneering through his goatee, there he stood for the grand championship -- 270 sculpted pounds of mean, with arm tattoos of a machine gun and the words, "Thank God I'm white."
"Whoa!" someone said.
"That guy's a brute," said someone else.
Zulfi Ahmed said, "You sure you want to fight him?"
Israel Johnson said, "You gotta be kidding me! I didn't drive all this way to stand here. Let's get it on!"
The Beast had never lost a match; he was 40. Izzy often fought four times a month and had lost quite often. They came charging out of their corners. The big man held his hands like David Carradine on the old Kung Fu show. Izzy, who was exactly 100 pounds lighter, had his arms stretched wide, like he was going to tackle an elephant. Boom -- that's what he did. As he began pounding into the ribs, the Beast turned to the audience and smiled. Big guys always do that when they're hurting, Izzy knew, and he kept punching. The Beast twisted and got on top. "Now it's my turn," he said, but Izzy already had him in an arm lock and was threatening to dislocate his shoulder. The Beast yielded for an instant, which was long enough for Izzy to throw a roll tuck and emerge on top. He was fastening his arms around the neck when the big man pounded the mat for mercy.
Izzy jumped up and began leaping wildly around the mat. The Beast rose and said he'd had the flu, you know. Izzy shook his hand and said, don't worry about it -- he had fought someone twice his size just the week before.
Dungal champion -- Izzy and the Great Bhollu! He put his arm around his brother. They stared into the video camera and said, "We came, we saw and we kicked some butt!"
Zulfi Ahmed let him pose with the trophy but wouldn't let him take it home.
