The staged mockeries on TV fool you. Those unguarded-against blows would break a man's jaw — but in real scraps they rarely land. TV fights are sucker-punch ballets. The old bareknuckle boys would go fifty rounds, fight for four hours, because you learn first to take care of yourself. It becomes automatic. And if you can survive for a few minutes, your opponent is shaken up and you're both swinging a shade wild. It becomes a case of two battering rams bearing each other down. The unofficial record is held by unknowns, an English and an American sailor who fought in a Chinese cafe in St. Johns, Newfoundland, for seven hours. No time out. A draw. Nick recalled this briefly during the next twenty minutes as he and Wilson fought from one end of the office to the other. They slugged toe-to-toe. They parted and traded long shots. They clinched and wrestled and pulled and hauled. Each man passed up a dozen opportunities to use a piece of furniture as a weapon.
