Street Beefs II

An Introduction to The Nicest Fight Club on the East Coast

Dear Hunt for Tom Clancy Readers,

Happy Memorial Day weekend. Please enjoy this first part of a multi-part series on Street Beefs. If you haven’t yet become a paid subscriber to “The Hunt for Tom Clancy” please do so at your earliest convenience.

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Thank you so much, until next time.

-Matt

The day before Groundhog’s Day I am in Satan’s Backyard outside the octagon at a Street Beefs fight in Staunton, Virginia when a tough-looking dude walks up to me.

I smile. He smiles back.

You look like my uncle, he says.

Do you like your uncle? I reply. A hint of an overseas accent to his English. Where you from?

I ask this question a lot to people, it’s all in the way you ask it.

Turkey, he says.

Merhaba nasılsın, I say. His smile turns to surprise as he responds to me in Turkish. My Turkish isn’t that good, but my accent is, I lived there when I was little. His name is Ahmet. I am pleased to meet him. He lives in Washington, DC. I wish him good luck in his match, Allahaısmarladık.

I walk over to the concessions table and purchase a Street Beefs sweatshirt; on one sleeve is written “Guns Down” on the other “Gloves Up.”

Ahmet comes out to fight under the nom de Guerre “The Contractor” wearing a shirt that says “Project X Contractors LLC”

The various incarnations of Project X are becoming a theme

Ahmet draws a fight against Just Corey who stands 5 feet 10 inches, weighs 225. On the back of his grey t shirt the words “DAD of #21”; my friend Cameron sees the shirt and says “21 kids, that’s too many!”

We’ll see what happens, he says in the pre-fight interview.

He’s got a long, scraggly beard with some red it it.

The Contractor stands five foot nine, weighs 200 pounds, has a beard and shaved head and says the Shahada before the fight.

He then proceeds to destroy just Corey’s world in less than thirty seconds.

Round One, let’s work, the ref announces, they touch gloves and the fight immediately goes into one of the corners, by the door. Just Corey lands the first few blows, a left hand jab to the face followed by a barrage of body blows; the Contractor is forced to wait for a better position.

I’m observing the fight from right next to the octagon, just next to an advertisement for Rainbow sports book and casino, when I spot a hot woman and my gaze is diverted except for the peripherals as they scramble into the center of the Octagon.

At a previous street beefs fight I was told this was the splatter zone.

The Contractor then ends it with a one two to the nose and right ear

Lights out! ROCKED.

Just Corey goes down hard, flat, on his back, sack of flour.

I wonder, for a second, if he’s dead. The Contractor comes over and lifts his legs, the ref checks his breathing, eventually he regains consciousness, they shake hands and leave the foam rubber over gravel field of fight.

I walk over and catch Ahmet’s attention. Nephew, I say, that was a hell of a fight. I’m so glad you like me.