Tales From The Barbershop: Mr Wood and Munguia

June gloom was in full effect on Tuesday morning when I decided to veer off my regular schedule and visit my favorite Barber Shop in Glendale. Time stood still as I opened the door and brought a morning fog with me.

Ageless Downtown Ronnie Brown was singing Albert King’s blues:

“I can’t read, haven’t learned how to write
My whole life has been one big fight
Born under a bad sign
I been down since I begin to crawl
If it wasn’t for bad luck
I say I wouldn’t have no luck at all”

“You are right on time, my friend,” exclaimed Dave the Barber:” Ronnie here is singing about your boy. If it wasn’t for bad luck he wouldn’t have no luck at all. I am just beside myself thinking about that Ukrainian boy and his streak of bad luck. That boy is jinxed; that’s all there is to it.”

“If you ask me,” chimed in Al The Barber:” That boy was in control of the fight for the first ten rounds. Then he gets dropped in the twelfth and boom; he lost.”

“I don’t remember asking you a god damn thing, you old fool,” cried out Dave The Barber:” That boy couldn’t win a fight even if his mama crossed her fingers behind her back and knocked on wood three times.”

“Knock on wood, ha-ha…” interjected Big Steve while rubbing his shiny bold head:” Did you know that his name Derevyanchenko means wood in English. That’s Mr. Wood to you all. I bow down on my knees to salute that man courage. He took one hell of a liver shot in the twelfth.  I felt the pain in my ribs when I saw it. Most humans would never be able to get up. But he got up and finished the fight. He is a true Ukrainian Cossack.”

“Mr. Wood my ass,” cried out Downtown Ronnie Brown while putting his guitar aside:” Your nose is so far up his ass it is turning brown. How about that Mexican boy, Munguia? I think it was in the fifth. He was lost and confused, busted and disgusted and almost out on his feet, but the Aztecan warrior survived and almost finished Mr. Wood off in the twelfth.”

“Yes, that fifth round was breathtaking,” confirmed Dave The Barber:” Brutality and violence at its finest. I remember thinking that Mr. Wood better end it then or they will find a way to take the victory from him.”

“And you know, the biggest irony,” howled Al the Barber:” Munguia camp offered Mr. Wood money to make it a ten round fight. You know that boy was born under a bad sign. If he would have said yes, he would be celebrating a victory right now.”

“Ten rounds, no, no, no” shouted Downtown Ronnie Brown:” I am curious to see what would happen if the went fifteen like they did in the old days.”

“But I say enough of our rhetoric,” decreed Dave The Barber looking directly at me:” You are the Fightmonger. What do you think?”

“I would have to use the words of a fan I heard right afterwards,” I replied:” This fight was so good I don’t even care who won. It was this good!!!”

“But if you want my opinion,” I continued:” This was an old school instant classic, savage and beautiful at the same time. Sweet science at its best. It had my blood near boiling. I couldn’t fall asleep half the night thinking about it and it made me realize why I fell in love with boxing in the first place.”