Ocampos, my opponent, entered the arena to the sound of Ini Kamoze’s Here Comes the Hotstepper. The man wore bright-green trunks and had more gold around his neck than in a jewelry store. I heard he was flamboyant. Understatement. He held his hands over his head and strutted around like a fucking peacock.
I believed in a more subtle approach. The loudest article of clothing I wore were my bright-red trunks—a nod to my favorite DC Comics superhero and the source of my fight name.
Ocampos and I were one of the featured fights. The card had twelve title bouts in both female and male divisions. The huge amateur event represented a variety of fight camps in the southwest, drawing thousands of fans.
My opponent was a two-time title holder for his camp.
“Entering the ring, from Venice Beach, California. Standing at five feet, ten inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and sixty-five pounds. He holds an amateur mixed-martial-arts record of twenty-one wins and seven losses, with ten wins by knockout. He’s the current, reigning, and defending CAMMA Champion, Robby ‘The Hammer’ Ocampos!”
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