David Essex - Faded Glory

“That’s good,” said Patsy. “Let’s see if we can step it up this round.”

“Jab and move,” advised Albert. “Keep him guessing.”

The bell rang out for round two as the crowd roared, looking for more action this time. They got it.

Danny was putting some very good combinations together. He jabbed and followed up with some powerful body shots. Livermore’s technique wasn’t as strong as Danny’s, but he was a stronger puncher, proved by how many of his wins had been knock-outs.

Danny got one of those big punches towards the end of the round. Livermore landed a brutal left hook to the side of Danny’s head that weakened Danny’s legs, but Danny managed to retreat, dance his way out of trouble and recover.

“Lucky punch Danny, that’s all,” Albert told him at the end of the round. “Keep your distance. You won that round on points, same again.”

Round three began. The crowd were on their feet, anticipating a knock-out from the reigning champion. But Danny back-pedalled and kept his distance, frustrating Livermore into throwing venomous punches which, as they flew by Danny’s head, were heartily cheered by the crowd. Livermore hissed insults as Danny parried his blows. At the end of the round, Danny headed back to his corner, full of purpose.

“That’s it,” Patsy encouraged, giving Danny water. “Now you keep that going. Frustrate him!”

Danny spat the water into a waiting bowl and turned to Albert.

“How am I doing, Grandad? He’s taking the piss, he’s calling me Daddy’s boy.”

“You’re doing just great, Danny,” Albert said. “Ignore him, you’re going well.”

The bell went for round four. In a quick exchange of punches, Livermore’s head clearly butted Danny.

“Ref!” Albert shouted.

“Cheat!” shouted eight thousand spectators.

Danny looked to Webster, but was ignored.

The round went on. Livermore targeted Danny’s face, hitting that area whenever he could, attacking a cut that was beginning to open on Danny’s forehead with a vengeance. Through the blood, Danny glimpsed Costa and Cohen sitting at the ringside. Costa gave him a knowing smile. The smile of a stitch-up.

Danny was now struggling to see. Albert jumped in the ring at the end of the round and led him back to his corner, where Patsy frantically patched Danny up.

Webster came over. “Still up for the fight?”

Through the fog in his head, Danny got the impression the referee wanted to end the fight.

“He’s all right,” said Albert coolly. “Just a small cut.”

“You heard the man,” said Patsy.

“What’s going on with him?” asked Danny groggily as Webster backed off. He was struggling to stay focused.

Albert slapped his face. “Listen to me,” he said, holding Danny’s chin. “I’m gonna tell you something important.”

“Yeah?” Danny slurred.

“The odds here are against you. You need to go out there in this round and knock him out. Spark out. Got it?”

Something sharpened in Danny’s head. The referee, Costa and Cohen. He looked at Albert, took his father’s medal hanging round Albert’s neck and kissed it.

The bell for round five rang out.

Danny was first to his feet. His change of tactics clearly unsettled Livermore. From being the aggressor, the title holder was now being pushed back as Danny came forward. In a flurry of punches that got the crowd not only to their feet but standing on their chairs, Danny had Livermore cornered and in serious trouble.

“Break!” Webster called.

No one had been holding. Most of the crowd began booing, sensing either bad decisions or something more sinister.

Moving back to the centre of the ring, Livermore came at Danny like a demented windmill. With a nifty piece of footwork, Danny sidestepped him and hit him with a massive right upper cut to the side of his head. The punch had so much force that it not only hurt Danny’s wrist, but sent the defending champion to the canvas.

The place exploded.

Livermore stayed down for a count of seven. Getting back to his feet, he was helped by the over-fussy “Wipe your gloves!” instruction from referee Webster, which helped delay proceedings. Livermore charged at Danny, right into a combination of punches that lifted him into the air and brought him crashing down on the bloodied canvas once again.

Before the count could begin, the bell went for the end of round five.

There was more booing from the crowd. Livermore’s team got him back to his corner and were doing their best to revive him.

Back in his own corner, Danny’s wrist was agony.

“Good boy,” enthused Albert. “Leave nothing to chance.”

“My right wrist is hurting bad,” Danny mumbled.

“Nearly there,” said Patsy.

“He’s on his knees,” said Albert. “Do it early.”

The bell rang for round six as the fighters came out. Webster took Livermore back to his corner to attend to a stray bandage from one of his gloves. Danny sensed another delaying tactic to give Livermore a chance to recover. The crowd sensed the same thing, to judge by the boos and jeers.

Livermore came out again. He seemed to have renewed energy, and attempted to put Danny under pressure. His illegal, below-the-belt punches were ignored by Webster, but Danny was given a public warning for holding.

The boos were growing louder. This seem to pump up Livermore, who came at Danny with renewed force. The flurry of his desperate punches was short-lived. Fighting through the pain of his wrist, Danny unleashed another barrage of punches that sent Livermore’s gum shield into the crowd and Livermore down to his knees. This time, he was definitely out.

Webster had no alternative but to count.

“…seven, eight, nine… ten!”

Livermore still lay flat on the floor. It was over.

There was mayhem. Albert almost somersaulted into the ring, hugging Danny and lifting him up.

“You did it!” he wept. “You did it, boy! Here, take your dad’s medal… take it. Your dad would be so proud. Well done, Danny!”

His face bloodied and bruised, Danny looked deep into Albert’s eyes as his grandfather draped his dad’s medal around his neck.

“We did it, Grandad,” he said in wonder, feeling as if he and Albert were the only two people in a crowded hall. “You, me and Dad. We did it.”

Lenny had watched the fight from the ringside, living every punch. He was beside himself with joy. A barrage of security men attempted to calm him down, but nobody was going to stop Lenny celebrating this wonderful moment.

“This is my family!” he shouted. “This is their night! This is my night! Hallelujah!”

He and a jubilant Patsy lifted the new British champion on to their shoulders and paraded Danny around the ring.

“Hallelujah!” Lenny shouted again, tears pouring down his face.

Albert couldn’t help a sarcastic smile and a wave of his walking stick at Costa and Cohen, standing motionless by the ringside. Tumultuous cheers rang out on all sides. Cameras flashed. History had been made.

Albert’s faded glory had been restored to a shining glory.

As Lenny and Patsy paraded Danny shoulder-high around the ring, Albert looked up to the sky. With tears of joy in his eyes, he whispered: “I know you’re looking down, Tommy. He did it, Tommy son. Your boy’s a champion. A British champion.”

London born and bred, DAVID ESSEX is the bestselling author of A Charmed Life , Over the Moon and Travelling Tinker Man and Other Rhymes . Married with five children, he lives in Covent Garden, London.