Failing the live & personal touch, viewing the "big fight" between Danny Green and Anthony Mundine on a "big screen" in a "local pub" seemed like a good idea. The Kogarah Tavern seemed a likely place for a good vantage point. But by the time of arrival - i.e. the beginning of the Elmahod bout, it was already packed. A lucky thing, given that pubs were expected to fork out $1500+ to show the event to the loud drunken mob. The mood of the evening seemed to sour slightly in accordance with the amount of beer being slurped down enormous gaping foodholes. The repeated cries of "go the waratahs!" would imply that elements of the crowd had lost control of what was really going on.
TAB had Green as a marginal favourite over Mundine, and would be the most obvious winner out of all this. Standing in the shadows and taking money from idiots, TAB would be the only participant in this fight who won't have Parkinsons within the next 10 years.
As Green stepped out of the tunnel and through the maze of garden chairs and freshly fleeced idlers, the crowd went nuts. "how could this be?" uttered one of the Mundine supporters "surely we should support the local boy, no matter how annoying his mouth gets". In fact, the man was booed loudly for the duration of his walk down the same path, which idiots in suits tried to jump into frame for their own 15 seconds.
The fighters began the bout jumpy - bouncing and testing each other's water. Green seemed to have a territorial dominance, especially with a height and reach advantage of 5cm. Constantly on the offensive to push Mundine backwards, the earliest stages of the fight had the Green fan squad confident of their hoped-for outcome.
But this was not to be. For every strike, Mundine was largely able to block or duck or weave, and then land a savage blow right in the middle of Green's mohawked scone. Each clean hit received booing from the majority of the crowd and sheiks of 'have some of that!' from one excited punter.
For all his stepping and forcing, Green seemed to tire faster than Mundine, who managed to bide his time and make the most of opportune openings. Both fighters managing to lose their footing on the "Crazy John's" advert in the middle of the canvas.
Once the televised fight was complete and Mundine announced GrandMasterChampion of the Known World, the sober managed to flee into the night before the first schooner was burst into the first mouth, while the drunken would wait to be hosed down with capsicum spray by the local constabulary.
What's the deal with that fatbastard referee?
Reviewed on Thursday, 18 May 2006