Raymond was a boxer, amongst other things. He was not a good boxer, although he practiced constantly. His body didn’t seem to be able to keep up with his determination.
He started boxing because he was getting bullied. He figured people might leave him alone if he knew how to fight. He was bullied for a myriad of reasons; he was overweight, poor, lacking in athletic ability, but most of all because he was ugly. It came from all over too, strangers, firefighters, priests, hell even therapists couldn’t resist getting their verbal jabs in.
You may have a picture in your head of what ugly means, trust me, Raymond was worse. He looked like something out of a horror movie, which is something that people liked to point out to him. It didn’t help when he started getting punched in the face everyday.
So he chose boxing. It took him a while to find a boxing club that would accept him; he was either turned away because he didn’t have any money, or because his face freaked the owner out too much. Finally, at the 12th gym he visited, the owner Sully let him in. The gym was on the verge of collapse at that point, there were holes in the ceiling (Sully said it was to air the place out), sand was leaking from the bags (Sully said that was to make them faster), and there was never anyone in there (Sully said only the best got to box at his gym).
So Sully let Raymond in under a few conditions. Raymond had to be the designated sparring partner and clean up crew, and he had to wear a custom made full face protection at all times, which honestly seemed more to protect the other boxers’ eyes from Raymond’s face than his face from their fists.
Sully had one final rule, and it was almost in the hopes that Raymond would in turn refuse the offer, he could not quit: whenever he got knocked down, he had to get back up, otherwise he was out.
So Raymond began his boxing career. Although to be completely honest, he did not do much boxing. He was more in the business of getting hit in the face over and over until he was knocked down. ully did not understand the kid, every round would be the same; “Dip Ray what’re you doing out there,” “God damn it kid stop letting him punch you,” “Yer supposed to HIT him ya damn hot-dog, put up a fight.”Raymond always got back up though, no matter what. It didn’t matter what kind of punch was thrown, or who was throwing it, Raymond was leaving the ring on his own two feet.
Raymond got uglier as the years went on. What once was a face that merely made one shudder was beaten into nightmare fuel.
Sully’s boxing club got more popular too. People kept coming to see if they could knock out the mysterious man in the head gear. Good boxers, bad boxers, they all came to topple Mt. Raymond. Nobody could, and for a while life was good. Was it legal for Sully to let people wail on Raymond the sparring partner as much as they did? Unimportant, and hey, it’s not Sully’s fault the guy couldn’t punch the broadside of a barn. What matters is that Raymond got to box, or well he was in the boxing ring, and people weren’t disgusted by him. Hell, people were coming there FOR him. Again, they never even saw his face but hey, progress is progress.
Good things don’t last however. At least not for Raymond. One day a boxer by the name of Tony walked into the club. Tony wasn’t just another good boxer, he was great. 6’6, 250 pounds but moved like a feather-weight. Tony was 24-0, all by knockout; He was a pro. On the other hand, Raymond was 5’11, 190 pounds, and moved like somebody tied bricks to his shoes. Which makes it confusing as to why he felt the need to walk into Sully’s old gym and demand to fight the glorified boxing bag mopping up sweat.
Maybe the idea there was someone out there who he couldn’t knock out infuriated Tony. Maybe he was just a dick. Who knows.
To his credit, Sully tried to talk Tony out of it. Sure he profited off of people beating Raymond into a pulp, but he didn’t want the kid to die. It was probably the first time anyone had ever stuck up for Raymond.
“Come on Mr. Tony, I mean really whats in it for you”
“I’m not leaving till I get what I want”
“He’s just a kid, you don’t need to fight him. Your not proving nothing to nobody by beating him”
“I’m not leaving till I get what I want.”
Tony wasn’t leaving till he got what he wanted. Raymond didn’t want to fight the guy, but Tony was causing such a scene and he didn’t want Sully to have to lose more customers on his account. So the boxers got to their corners, Sully rang the bell, and the fight started.
For the first round and a half, Raymond did not see a punch. This is not to say he wasn’t punched –he was– but the punches were coming in so fast they were pretty much invisible to Raymond’s eyes. He got knocked down 8 times by the time the first bell rang. He could not get a single punch out.
After a while, Tony was tired enough that Raymond could at least see him, not slow enough for Raymond to dodge of course, but progress is progress. His face felt like it was on fire. His nose was broken and his eyes were swollen to the point he almost couldn’t see out of his face gear. But he kept getting back up.
The rounds crept by; Tony kept landing punches and Raymond kept getting punched in the face. Jab, jab, hook. Right cross, left body shot, uppercut. By the eighth round, Raymond still hadn’t landed a punch. Sully started to get nervous, “Come on Ray, throw a damn punch, I don’t think your strategy is working here.”
The once white mat had turned red with Raymond’s blood. The only thing hurt on Tony were his hands, due to pummeling every available inch of Raymond’s body. That and his pride, every second that Raymond was still standing made Tony angrier and angrier.
At the start of the twelfth round, both fighters were a mess. Raymond had swallowed two teeth, his left eye had gone dark, and 3 of his ribs were broken. Tony was crying. People still wonder whether it was from anger or fear. Fear of the stumbling man who refused to stay down.
Both men were giving it their all, Tony rattling off combination after combination into Raymond, and Raymond was vibrating around like he was being hit with a cattle prod.
In the last 10 seconds of the twelfth round Tony threw a wild haymaker, the strongest punch anyone in that gym had ever seen. It hit Raymond square in the face, CRACK, and fully knocked him off his feet, face gear flying into the crowd.
Nobody could take a shot like that. Except Raymond.
Raymond slowly crawled back on to feet he could no longer feel, blood pouring from his mouth, put up his gloves and motioned for more. Through dimming hearing, Raymond thought he heard people cheering his name, “Raymond” “RAYMOND.”
His face gear stayed on the ground however. Raymond wasn’t in the right mental space to be aware of such things, but Tony was aware.
Tony took one look at Raymond’s, battered, disgusting, grotesquely haunting face, and promptly feinted.
So Raymond gained his first, and only, victory. Sully raised his arm, declaring him the victor. Raymond beat a professional boxer without ever landing a punch.
“You did good ya ugly bastard.”
He looked Sully in the eyes, and saw through dimming vision, acceptance. And then fell to the mat. This time, he didn’t get up.
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