That’s because I’ve cancelled the fight show. I am busier than a pair of plaid bell bottoms, so something had to give and I’m a perfectionist, so I’m not going to run a sub-par show. Instead I’ll do it again late in the summer in super dooper fashion with a really good professional card. In the meantime, I’ll start matching up all the boys and girl on the many shows happening around the country.
Gordy sent me some the photos of the fight in Galway and they’re hilarious. He was too busy cornering to get any action shots but he got some of the following in which I mostly look like a moron. Have a laugh at these.
Pre fight photo taken just after the medical checks. I think there’s something wrong with my gums and Keith doesn’t realise that the way to put your arm around your fellow man is roughly at the shoulder, not tenderly around his waist.
This is a great photo. Keith is all vassed up and ready to rock, looking deadly serious, I’m squinting because of the flash, and Ivers looks like some tourist who has just run in from the side to get in our photo. This one will not be appearing in the newspapers. Check out the KO that I wrote on Keith’s gloves earlier. I must be psychic.
And last but not least, this is me at about 5am. That’s a beaker of white wine in my had (oh so classy) which was procured through cunning and stealth by The Artful Dodger and the 21st century equivalent of Fagan. I couldn’t put all of those up and not put up this one in which I look a bit rough. I like to think I deserved it.