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John Other
John Other

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The Nuclear Family, Chapter 16, Part II

[:::: Find all chapters at: The Nuclear Family story page ::::]

[:::: Read any of John’s Stories on John’s Story Guide ::::]

[:::: Go back to Chapter 15 ::::]

[:::: The Nuclear Family, Part II, Chapter 16 ::::]

It was around ninety minutes later when I was announced to walk out onto the stage, Darren by my side, to a decent applause, even though I was a relative nobody.  The promoters had chosen Metallica's ‘Fuel’ as my walk-on song, and the bass line pumped as I walked down the ramp, the broadcasters giving my stats, that this was my first professional fight and, of course, that I was going to be pounded into the mat.

I was feeling loose, my shoulders were relaxed, and I was as ready as I was going to be.  In front of me was the cage, or as we called it, the Octagon.  The eight-sided, walled-in arena was currently undergoing a wipe-down, as the previous fight had ended in a TKO, and a bloody one at that.

I took a glance up to the section where Toni told me my family was seated, and I could see them.    They must have bought tickets at the door, and at least in the seven-hundred-seat arena, they were towards the back. My parents and sister were there, clapping, and beside them was Georgia, sitting and unsure whether she should wave or cry. 

Of course, there was my older brother as well, the arrogant prick, holding both hands out, giving the finger to me while booing me.  If I could get him into the cage with me, he would quickly lose his attitude.

It was interesting, as in all the years I had been fighting, this was the first time they had all been at one of my matches together.  Georgia came to a couple but proclaimed it too violent and refused to come.  Mum and Dad were always curious, but never committed to coming, even though they said they would. 

Once Darren and I got to my entry into the Octagon, he looked at me.

“Ignore them,” he told me. “They are nothing but a distraction as to why you are here.”

I nodded and rolled my shoulders.

“What are you here for, Robbie?” he asked.

“To win,” I told him.

“What are they here for?” he asked, knowing they were still watching me and I was distracted.

I grinned.

“To watch me win,” I told him.

The typical MMA fight consists of three five-minute rounds where we ply everything we know to take each other down, of course, without doing illegal moves like gouging and headbutting.

As Cody and I were the main fight for the evening, though, it would be a five-round fight, and we would get a minute's rest between each round.  It was going to be my first-ever five-round fight, which I knew would test my endurance. 

Had I not been fighting international MMA fighter Cody McGuiness, the fight would have been held in a well-appointed gym or even a smaller arena somewhere.  But the moment that Cody’s song struck up, the crowd went wild, explaining why this evening's event was being held here.  Cody McGuiness had some ego that needed to be managed.  “Mamma Said Knock You Out,” by LL Cool J played, and Cody swaggered onto the stage with large animations playing and even some indoor flames placed around the stage.

He played it up to the crowd and even got a few laughs when he pointed over at me and, in a mock move, begged me not to hurt him.  The intent was obvious; Cody didn’t see me as a serious threat. I was just his warm-up to the main event in Sydney next month.

Watching Cody as he moved with three of his trainers surrounding him, pumping him up, and telling him how well he was going to do was interesting.  In the moments before we were summoned, he looked over at me and winked.

“Cocky bastard,” Darren said as he pulled out my mouth guard and handed it to me.

“Wipe that smile of his face for me, would you, Robbie…”

I couldn’t help it.  As I got into the Octagon, I glanced once more at my family, and they noticed me looking at them this time.  A combination of waves, cheering, and sneers greeted me. With the final date for the divorce only days away, they must have been pretty desperate to see me and try to convince me to come back to the Gold Coast and Total Build if they were all here.

I had been speaking with Peter, Amy’s father, a couple of days ago.  He came across as happy that Amy had the man of her dreams, that it was at the expense of his stepdaughter’s happiness, did not appear to bother him too much.  Indeed, it was through Peter that I learnt that Total Build wasn’t doing well at all as I spoke to him on the phone.

“Your parents have had to lay off a third of the staff who haven’t quit since you left Robbie,” he told me over the phone. “In the wake of your leaving, they have lost several important customers.  Including Oak Parks.”

“Figures,” I told him. “Let me guess, they put Brad back on the account?”

I could feel the man who would once more be my father-in-law nod through the phone.

“They cited a clause in the contract that no one at Total Build read, stating that Brad was not allowed to be in any commercial conversations with them due to his history.”

“And how is the happy couple?” I asked Peter.  He hesitated a moment, trying to decide what to tell me.  “It's alright, Peter, if you feel it would put you in a precarious position, don’t say anything.”

“No, it's not that,” he told me, then he sighed. “Things are not that great for Georgia.”

“How so?” I asked.

“I’ve seen her only a handful of times since she has had the baby.  She is enjoying being a Mum, but I believe that is where her happiness ends.  Brad is not a proactive father.  He moved into your house almost the day after you left, and from what I heard, he spends a lot of his time out drinking or pretending to be at meetings for Total Build, yet there are never any records.”

I snorted.  A few of my friends from the Gold Coast had let me know almost the same, having told me they had seen him out on the town in the company of other women, while Georgia was obviously at home looking after her child. 

“When he is home,” Peter continued to tell me, “he calls the boy, ‘the Brat’, thinking he is being funny and then gets upset when no one laughs with him.”

“He’s not abusing Georgia, is he?” I asked.  I may not like Georgia after what she had done, but even if she was the last person on earth I wanted to be with, I would never see harm come to any woman, friend or foe.

“Not from what I can understand.”

I glanced up at them after recalling the memory. A fallen family, a deadbeat dad and a woman full of regret.  Suddenly, I didn’t feel so bad, and I bounced on the balls of my feet a few times, smiling and loosening the bonds of emotion that bubbled deep inside me. 

Cody McGuiness was in for a fight with me that he had no idea was coming, all thanks to people who had not been there, which would have made his match with me a whole lot easier.

When Cody climbed into the Octagon and into the spotlights, it was to almost thrice the amount of cheers and applause that I got. Sure, I was an Aussie, an underdog, and the crowd would get behind me for those two reasons alone.  But Cody was known, so they cheered him for no other reason than wondering who the hell this Robbie Other guy was.

The Umpire repeated the rules, the rounds, and the illegals and announced.

“Touch gloves if you wish.”

Unlike in Boxing, there is no requirement to touch gloves before a match.  However, many MMA competitors did so as a sign of respect.  I watched Cody almost crack a smile when we both reached out and touched gloves.

Quickly, we retreated to our sides, and I noticed that both Amy and Toni had now joined Darren on the other side of the Octagon's protective barrier.

“Do it, Babe,’ Amy yelled, while I tensed myself, ready to strike.

Then the chime rang around the arena, and we were off.

Both of us came out fast, determined.  With his background in boxing, Cody went straight for my head, throwing a series of blows that, had I not been ready for it, would have thrown me off balance quickly.  But Darren and I had done our homework, and I was expecting something like this.  I dodged and danced my way out of each punch, deflecting while I got myself into position and launched a series of my own attacks at his legs using a series of Muay Thai strikes that Darren had hammered into me until they were second nature.

Despite being ready for it, Cody certainly packed a punch, and he managed to land two solid blows early, which stung like I had been hit with a solid piece of timber.  Surprisingly, both of us kept our footing during the first round despite my best efforts, and Cody almost toppled three times due to my kicks.  But he managed to keep his centre of balance and keep his feet.

In that first round, we learnt a lot about each other.  I am sure that, despite his bravado at saying I was never going to be a challenge, Cody and his trainers had likely watched as many hours of videos of my fights as Darren and I watched of his.  However, despite all the preparation, it's all just theory until you get into it with each other.

Despite all the arrogance and Cody being a professional, I was feeling good at the end of the first round.  If I were to judge things, I would say we were about even.  He had the upper body strength; however, I had more of an all-over physical presence, and I knew my kicks were punishing him.  I had also managed to land a blow to his side that he had to be feeling.

Darren didn’t say much to me as he handed me water. Amy and Toni were standing just outside the octagon entrance, but I noticed Cody and his trainers looked at me several times.

When the chime sounded for round two, the cockiness that Cody had before the first was gone, and I could see that he now had his serious game face on.

This time, he came at me more methodically, throwing punches that were testing my reactions, looking for weakness.  He found a gap on my left more than once, and I paid for it, feeling the blows hammer home, making me dizzy.

And this is the reason that a good coach and trainer pushes you so hard.  You train past the point of breaking, and long after you're mentally exhausted, your body doesn’t want to take another step. Even then, your coach is pushing you when you would long give up.  Because, while I was dazed, yet trained, I was still fighting, I continued my attack on his side, using elbows followed by kicks to the flabby part of his waist. I could see that every time I made the move, he would start to cringe right before I began.

So, I changed my approach. When he came in to throw a punch, I stepped into it and spun, using my elbow, and then moved back.  That worked a few times before he figured it out and managed to get me with a few kidney shots, not as strong as his signature punch, but effective.

Then the end of round two ended.

Darren, put a clip over my eye. Cody had managed to land a blow that had torn my skin; it wasn’t really bleeding, but anything else would be bad.  Then again, a look at Cody, and we could see his team checking Cody’s side. 

“Keep the intensity, mate,” Darren told me. “He did not expect you to be in his face like this. You have him rattled, and keep watching that left hook.  He knows you are watching for the right, and he’s using that to get you on the left.”

I nodded, stood, my mouth guard back in place.  Darren jumped out of the Octagon, and the crowd went wild for round three, now understanding that I wasn’t going to go down easily.

If there is anything to learn about Aussies, it's that we love an underdog, win or lose. Once we see someone giving it their all, we're drawn to them. If you want to understand that more, look up ‘Erick the eel’ at the Sydney 2000 Olympics.

As I rose and got ready for the next round, I felt the swell of the crowd; they had seen me fight, and now they were picking up that I was the scrappy underdog, bringing it to the seasoned pro, and they loved it.

We were only a minute into round three when, for the first time, the ref had to break us apart.  I had gone in to knee him in the side, and he grabbed me instead of punching.  When we broke apart, I don’t know why, something in my subconscious registered… I don’t know what, but for some reason, I glanced up towards where my family and Georgia were sitting.

As the rest of the crowd was cheering, they were all sitting in silence.  But before I could contemplate any longer, Cody managed to get into position and launch a devastating three-punch combination on me.  First was the left strike to my right cheek, then that was followed a moment later by a right strike to my solar plexus, and then a second strike that caught my right jaw. I went down, blood spraying from my mouth as the strikes sent me sprawling.

I was stunned for a moment, seeing stars, and my vision was greying at the edges.  I was told later that Cody was fist-pumping the air for a moment after his strike, and the referee was looking at me. If I didn’t move, he was going to call the match as his priority was the health of the contestants.

However, in that moment, those few seconds that stretched, the one thing I did notice once more was my family.

My father and brother were in the middle of a high-five.  Joyous expressions on their face.  My mother was smiling, though the smile did not reach her eyes, and I could see the same in my sister.  Georgia was the only one who was appalled, though. 

As the ref came to me, I slapped the mat and stood.  I had fixed Cody’s movement in my mind, and I knew I had about three seconds before the next attack.  But my eyes were at the moment still looking at the betrayers.  Brad Jr. was now laughing and pointing at me.  Mocking me as my Father threw faux punches.  And now my mother, sister, and Georgia were all laughing.

So much I had done for them, so much I had suffered.  I had been treated like shit by them, taken advantage of and lost almost everything because they were selfish, greedy shits.

The ref looked me in the eyes, and I nodded as I turned, and Cody was already coming back in for an attack every time as the ref moved back as quickly as he could.

Rage!

Cody came sweeping in, not realising that the cobwebs were gone, as was the defensive fighter who was his opponent a few moments earlier. He expected me to block, but I didn’t. I dropped to a knee and threw an elbow to his gut, making him stumble back.

I then pushed, my eyes focused, my attention only on the opponent in front of me.  He would throw an attack, which I would shrug off like it was nothing, and I would throw a more brutal reply.  Fists, knees, feet, elbows. Every part of me became a weapon, and the man in the cage with me was no longer in the Octagon; it was now an area where I punished my foes, and he was almost helpless before me.

He became purely defensive, his arms and stance stiff, trying to weather the blows that came at him from every direction.  My opponent in the ring was now trying to make it to the end of the round so he could take a breath.

Despite it all, though, he managed to keep his feet.  But after a particular exchange where I landed blow after blow against his midsection, my opponent stood back and tried to change his stance in anticipation of the next flurry of blows that would rain against him.

With less than a minute to go, he was breathing hard and hurting.  I was going to use every second granted to me to dish out the pain, and then I saw it.

I was still feeling the effects of the blows I had received earlier, but I was moving with training and emotion.  However, as my opponent took a stance, his right foot was out in front of his left at a thirty-degree angle.  Given a few moments, he would have his guard up and ready, but I was already moving.

In some ways, you have to feel sorry for Cody McGuiness; he never understood that I was no longer fighting him.  I was fighting with my family, particularly my older brother.

The opening was there, and I was in the perfect position.  The roar of the crowd that was always in the background, surging and retreating with the ebb and flow of the fight, receded into nothing.  Seconds stretched into hours as my leg extended, my foot rolled, and I continued to rotate my body to increase the momentum of my kicks.

When Cody’s fists had hit me earlier, it felt like getting hit square in the face with a twenty-kilo sandbag.  What Cody had to be feeling right now had to be worse, a precision strike, with almost the full rotation of my body packed into it, coming in directly onto the side of his face at a single point.

The kinetic energy implicit in that strike was instantly transferred from my foot to Cody’s face, and the laws of physics being what they were, Cody McGuiness could not remain motionless.

Cody McGuiness hit the mat a second later, out cold as I landed and stood, not even bothering to look back. He was out cold. The ref was already making his way to the fallen man.

I had managed to finish standing, facing where my family were sitting, their smiling, jovial faces that were moments ago celebrating the beating I was taking had been replaced with expressions of disbelief.

The entire arena was silent as I locked eyes with my brother, and the look of fear that passed over his face likely also meant he was soiling himself.

“Fuck you,” I mouthed.

Brad Jr. sat down heavily as the moment passed, and everyone caught up with what was happening. Then, suddenly, there was a deafening roar, and everyone was on their feet, cheering.

I looked back at Cody, and the poor guy was out of it, lying on his side, with a significant mark on the side of his face, his mouth guard half hanging from his lips.  When the referee spoke to him, Cody never moved.

Looking over at the judges, the ref looked back at me and nodded.

It was like the cheers got louder, and I pushed my fist into the air as the chime sounded, ending the match.

I had won.

A microphone appeared in the referee’s hand.

“The winner by knockout, your new champion, Robbie Other!”

[:::: End of Chapter 16 ::::]

[:::: Go to Chapter 17 – Due 14 November 2025 ::::]

[:::: Find all chapters at: The Nuclear Family story page ::::]

[:::: Read any of John’s Stories on John’s Story Guide ::::][:::: Find all chapters at: The Nuclear Family story page ::::]


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