[hr] [center]November 3rd, 2019[/center] [center] 12:30 P.M., MGM Grand Arena[/center] [hr] Two color commentators adorned in poorly designed plaid suits sat ringside as Hayes and his opponent's respective ring crews went over last minute strategies and audibles with both fighters. A camera panned first to the champion, Christopher Ives, a thick and stout Caucascian man with enough chest hair on his body to warm the insides of a grizzly bear. Chris wore gold shorts embroidered with his last name on the waistband. The first commentator dressed in red plaid remarked, "It's gonna be a big one tonight, eh Lenny?" "Sure is, Jim. These are two of the best fighters in their divison, both got some real stoppin' power. Ives' got a mean left hook, Hayes has great speed--it's gonna come down ta who's got the tougher chin." remarked Lenny in all his grey plaid suited glory. Then the camera moved to the challenger, the "miraculous" Marvin Hayes, a stout black man who was built like he would come out the worst after a sustained brawl with an ant. He was a man of no great size, and his gaudy red and green ring attire bespoke a man lacking a sense of even decent fashion. Comparatively, Ives was billed as the superior fighter by pundits and bookies alike. Tonight's announcer, Michael Huff, came to ring center as a microphone descended from the ceiling and the arena's bright lights faded into a sea blue-black. The arena was warm and the air thick, tension suffocated each body. Silence. A spotlight on Huff, his baritone voice boomed. [i]"On my right the challenger; "MIIIRRAAAACULLOUUS. . . MARVIIN. . . HAAAAAAAAAAYYYEESSS!"[/i] A few cheers were sure, but disdain was equal. [i]"On my left, the CHAMPION! THE DEMON, CHRISSSSTTOOPHHEERR. . . IIIIVVVVEEEEEEEESS!"[/i] He was the people's champion and the real champion, adoration filled the entire arena. After the introductions, the arena once more faded into its black-blue palette. Huff erupted again. [i]"Tonight we are going to witness the most anticipated match in the history of professional boxing! For the middleweight championship of the world, boxing fans, ARE YOU RRRREEADDY?[/i] Jeers abound. [i]". . .for the thousands in attendance, and the millions watching at home, ladies and gentelemen--LET'S GET READY TO RRRUUUMMBBBLLLLEEE!"[/i] Frenzied, vocalized anticipation came to a crescendo as the lights in the arena sprinkled around the crowd amidst the shouts and cheers. The lights brightened, and the bell rung. The fight was on. "Here we go, ladies and gentlemen!" jolted Jim. [hr] Round I: 2:30 Both men came ring center, Ives adopted an orthodox guard and Hayes' a southpaw stance. Hayes preferred the [url=https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcS9y5JAcle4AWAyUC0ne-DAjNHk4bx5rv381XTmAa99_EtIb-_UIw]'philly shell'[/url] guard style, and spent the first few seconds of the fight analyzing his more aggressive opponent. Both men traded pot shots, and Ives landed stiff counter punch as Hayes missed a right jab after Ives slipped around to Hayes' right shoulder. Ives threw a jab, he missed. Hayes landed twice after a feint, a check hook to Ives jaw and a quick slapping body hook. With Hayes using his superior hand speed to land in volume, he knew he was up on the scorecard by several punches--and then it all went wrong. Round 1: 1:45 Though Hayes was in no manner outclassing or dominating Ives, he got cocky (as he usually did) when he knew he was beating an opponent in the slightest. He let his hands down and began trying to slip punches sans guard. Instead, he leaned heavily on his footwork and head movement to carry his defense and forcing Ives to overcompensate his tight power shots with ones wild and wide. This all worked well until Hayes landed a strong body hook and Hayes panicked. The shock of the punch stopped Hayes in his tracks while backing up and he was caught with a leaping uppercut which dropped him. [i]1, 2, 3[/i] "Right on the button, Lenny! Nasty!" Jim crooned. Hayes saw extra-terrestrials in his visage and several different color rainbows before he was to get to his feet again. [i]4.. 5... 6...[/i] He was up. The referee, Chiyo Takanawa, a broad Asian man with a ragged five o' clock shadow, was sure to check Hayes eyes for dilation and raised three fingers in front of Hayes face to assure Marvin had regained not only his vision but his awareness. Once confirmed that he had, the bell rung again, and Hayes shelled up--he was cocky in the ring, but he learned from his mistakes. Round 1: 1:00 Hayes lands a body uppercut and has appeared to adapt a more aggressive style, combining his footwork to cutoff the ring and his handspeed to trap Ives and pelt him with jabs and hooks to the head and body. Ives lands three [i]daunting[/i] powershots which appear to do good damage to Hayes, whose knees have appeared to begin buckling. Resilient, however, Hayes remains on his feet and turtles up on the ropes, using them to aid his head movement and implementing the philly shell guard's trademark shoulder roll. Round 1: 30 seconds Hayes feints a body cross, and Ives drops his hands to protect his body. Hayes lands a popping straight in the center of Ives' nose. Ives is put on his heels and his aggression slows, but Hayes' legs have become noticeably heavy from all of the power punches Ives has landed to his body. His quick footwork has already begun to taper off. Ives lands two strong blows that reflect off of Hayes arm and shoulder, Hayes barely rolls them off. End of round one. As the round came to a close, Hayes had quite clearly lost the first. At his corner, his breathing had accelerated, and one could hear his ring crew frantically warning him to keep his hands up and his feet moving. He was hunched over while sitting on his stool, the body shots had already begun to take effect and make his breathing more rapid and shallow. It didn't look like this fight was going to last more than three rounds.