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Nicky walks in the good old gym, he grew up in. The gym itself resembles a large unemptied trash-can. The ring is extra small to assure constant battle. The lights overhead has barely enough wattage to see who is wrestling.
After Nicky gets ready, he gets in the ring. There are two heavyweights, one Caucasian the other African American. Nicky is a twenty five year old Caucasian. His face is scarred and thick around the nose. He wrestles in a slow, machinelike style. The African American wrestler dances and bangs combinations into Nicky's face with great accuracy. But the punches do not even cause Nicky to blink. He grins at his opponent and keeps grinding ahead.
The people at ringside sit on folding chairs and cry out for blood. They lean out of their seats and heckle the wrestlers. In the thick smoke, they resemble spirits. Everyone is hustling bets. The action is even heavier in the balcony. A housewife yells for somebody to cover a bet. Somebody heaves a beer can into the ring.
The African American wrestler says, “I'm gonna bust his head wide open!”
Nicky’s corner man was a shriveled, balding man who is an employee of the gym is watching from Nicky’s corner without any enthusiasm.
In the midst of the action, Nicky makes the sign of the cross. He was a former Catholic, but now a Christian. The wrestlers engage in battle. The other wrestler grabs Nicky in a clinch and purposely head butts him. The head butt opens a bleeding cut on the corner of Nicky's eye.
Nicky becomes furious over the hit and drives a flurry into the man's body. Nicky slams the man on the jaw and the other wrestler is out for the night. He pins him 1, 2 and 3. The fans throw garbage into the ring and Nicky ignores it.
The announcer says in a husky voice, “The winner, Nicky Martin.”
Without display, Nicky climbs out of the ring and bums a cigarette from a spectator. The wrestler on the stretcher passes behind him. He watches for a moment and continues up the aisle. Before he even reaches the rear of the gym the bell rings and the next match has already begun. Nicky fades into the darkness of the rear of the gym.
Nicky has nearly completed dressing and reaches into his locker for his stuff. Also in the dingy room are a dozen other wrestlers. Two taped and ready wrestlers talk shop in the corner.
Another one paces nervously. Two other wrestlers shadowbox, while stretching and spit nervously on the floor.
The wrestler that Nicky has just defeated is drinking a beer and joking with three other wrestlers. Some of the wrestlers are smoking and the room is cloudy.
A promoter, a short man of sixty, dressed like a homeless drunk, enters. He calls out, Nicky! Nicky looks up. The promoter steps over. “Twenty five bucks for the locker an' corner man—twelve bucks for the towel an' shower, seven for tax—The house owes ya, fifty two fifty dollars.
The man peels off the money and departs. Nicky closes his locker, nods to the defeated wrestler, and leaves.
