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And so, there we were - the bezzie mate and I - quietly but assuredly sitting amongst a bunch of rowdy and half-drunk (the beer ran out prior to the televised card, apparently) Mitchell fans. The undercard had been great, and we'd loudly cheered for every British fighter so far, but now the time had come to switch allegiance.
Our huge Aussie flag was to remain well hidden until the end of the fight, but we knew the plan. There was no way we were going to reveal ourselves as infiltrators and renegades to the beloved hometown bwoi. It was too soon to break our cover.
As the fighters entered, we realised how hostile things were about to become. Not a single Aussie fan was in sight. One loud cheer for Kats and we would've been busted up by those ruddy lager louts. But we knew it was just a case of waiting. We gave Mitchell a little clap, but that's all.
So as the fight went on, everyone stood up and went "Ohh" and "Ahh" at every punch thrown. Every time Mitchell landed even a jab (which worried me, because Kats had obviously decided not to bring his own), they went bonkers. Every time Kats landed a shot, they went silent and muttered "Get out of there, Kev. He's dangerous". The most satisfying realisation for me was that Mitchell could not hurt Kats. It just wasn't happening.
Then came that third round, and the mutterings became desperate shouts of warnings - "KEV, GET OUT OF THERE NOW!!! DON'T STAY IN THERE AND TRADE WITH HIM!!!" The bezzie and I just knew the stoppage was imminent, but we still couldn't cheer. Not yet. But we knew.
Ref jumps in, and I tell you something - I have never heard so many people elicit such a loud, collective groan in all my life. It was literally a gigantic yet subdued "Aw...", followed by a sigh. No-one complained about the stoppage. Then, less than 10 seconds later, everyone started to leave with their heads hanging. Their man had been thrashed before their eyes, and they no longer had any reason to hang about.
Cue the bezzie and I, and we just couldn't contain ourselves. We scrambled down to pitch level and just let it all out - our bwoi had done it; shut everyone up; beaten an undefeated fighter in his own back yard despite all the odds; and had hilariously shown up Frank Warren again. Out came the Aussie flag and we just about managed to see Kats walking back up the entrance section. He didn't see us, but we knew he'd done it for us - his true believers.
What a worthwhile and rewarding pilgrimage. My life is complete.
Our huge Aussie flag was to remain well hidden until the end of the fight, but we knew the plan. There was no way we were going to reveal ourselves as infiltrators and renegades to the beloved hometown bwoi. It was too soon to break our cover.
As the fighters entered, we realised how hostile things were about to become. Not a single Aussie fan was in sight. One loud cheer for Kats and we would've been busted up by those ruddy lager louts. But we knew it was just a case of waiting. We gave Mitchell a little clap, but that's all.
So as the fight went on, everyone stood up and went "Ohh" and "Ahh" at every punch thrown. Every time Mitchell landed even a jab (which worried me, because Kats had obviously decided not to bring his own), they went bonkers. Every time Kats landed a shot, they went silent and muttered "Get out of there, Kev. He's dangerous". The most satisfying realisation for me was that Mitchell could not hurt Kats. It just wasn't happening.
Then came that third round, and the mutterings became desperate shouts of warnings - "KEV, GET OUT OF THERE NOW!!! DON'T STAY IN THERE AND TRADE WITH HIM!!!" The bezzie and I just knew the stoppage was imminent, but we still couldn't cheer. Not yet. But we knew.
Ref jumps in, and I tell you something - I have never heard so many people elicit such a loud, collective groan in all my life. It was literally a gigantic yet subdued "Aw...", followed by a sigh. No-one complained about the stoppage. Then, less than 10 seconds later, everyone started to leave with their heads hanging. Their man had been thrashed before their eyes, and they no longer had any reason to hang about.
Cue the bezzie and I, and we just couldn't contain ourselves. We scrambled down to pitch level and just let it all out - our bwoi had done it; shut everyone up; beaten an undefeated fighter in his own back yard despite all the odds; and had hilariously shown up Frank Warren again. Out came the Aussie flag and we just about managed to see Kats walking back up the entrance section. He didn't see us, but we knew he'd done it for us - his true believers.
What a worthwhile and rewarding pilgrimage. My life is complete.
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