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Cage-fighting man

'Kill him, Jimmy!' A night at the cage fight

Steven Berkoff

Wednesday, 29th August 2007

So we went to Wembley Arena to witness for the first time what is called ‘cage fighting’.

Dave is 42 and maybe at the upper end of the ages fighting tonight. He cannot have much time left in this monstrously unyielding sport but he fights on gamely and is awesomely fit. The bell goes and he gets up as if little has happened, but I can see he is furious with himself. He’s let himself down in front of his fans and us. His second attempts to mollify and pat him down but he brushes him away. This black American guy is much tougher than he thought. He’s 36 and of ju-jitsu background. This now is evident. I worry for Dave. But low and behold, the black guy, who looked like he might be the winner if he could keep up this murderous pace, suddenly throws in the towel. He won’t go on! Bloody hell! What’s happening? The crowd starts booing. He points to his right eye. He claims he can’t see out of it. The announcer relays this to the audience. More booing — now intense. I can’t quite believe it but here it is.

Now sweaty and hot, Dave comes to our row and sits next to me and explains that he wasn’t hurt and that he was popping the black opponent while under him! He may have actually hit him in the eye. I thought at least he might have changed first before telling us, but obviously he didn’t want to miss us and so, still steaming, he slides along our row and tells us his side of the story. It’s a weird world, as they say, but we were both delighted that he broke through the ‘fourth wall’ so to speak and came to see us. We thanked him and left. What an amazingly brave bloke. We escaped into fresh air. Believe it or not, the night before we had been at Glyndebourne. Of course they shout there too. ‘Bwaaaaavoooo! Bwarvooooo!’ Everybody likes a shout.

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