BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 325 didn‟t have the same problem I had. Mine stemmed from another drunken bash at Joe Jolly‟s place. Alvin Mask, the black guy who saved my ass in the locker room that day in 1965, was with us. Like most black guys I knew, Alvin drank Colt .45, which I thought tasted like horse piss. He also couldn‟t hold his booze too well, again typical of the black guys I knew. He‟d seen me beat someone sparring in the driveway that day and as he sat on the couch, his paranoia took over. I was coming back from the bathroom after taking a leak when Alvin came to his feet. I smiled, wondering what he‟d say, and had no chance to defend myself against what he did. Alvin swung a vicious uppercut directly into my belly, hitting me so hard it blew every bit of air out of my body. I honestly feared I‟d suffocate before I was able to finally take a breath. That punch nearly killed me. I couldn‟t really blame Alvin. He was drunk, and no Rhodes scholar in the first place, but it was a few hours before I drank any more beer. He really got to me that day. After that, with such a damaging blow to the liver, I had the equivalent of a “glass jaw” with my stomach. It was never a big problem, since I shied away from all infighting unless I instigated it. Even then, as soon as I lost position to do a lot of damage, I‟d just dance away and jab again, always to avoid getting hit. So, I concluded this monster had the same problem. Just to be sure, I tested my theory. I stayed in position long enough for him to get off a good shot, but it was a left hand punch, and I didn‟t stay where it fully landed, meaning I wasn‟t hurt. When he let it go, I moved in and planted a hard jab to his belly. The sick look on his face, along with the huge gush of air after I hit him, told me Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 326 my hunch was on the money. After that, for the rest of the second round and all of the third, I‟d decide when to make a trade-off. When I stepped in that close, he‟d always score a head punch. Still, if I moved in on him fast enough, it wasn‟t too bad and didn‟t hurt much. Once inside, I‟d follow him all the way back to the ropes, even to a corner one time, beating the living shit out of his ribs and his belly. Every time I did it, the guy looked like he wanted to call it off right there. He refused to even answer the bell in round four, giving me my first TKO, (technical knockout). I was elated at being two and oh, happy to have earned twice as much money as my first fight, (more than a week‟s workmen‟s comp), and even more delighted the fight was over. If I hadn‟t figured him out, a big, hard hitting, fast as hell guy like that might‟ve beaten the hell out of me. That‟s something I‟ve never wanted to experience. Knock on wood, it ain‟t ever happened to me. Not yet, it hasn‟t. Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
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BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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