Friday after work I was kind’a half-ass thinking about going to the Beaumont around the block later to see some ultimate fighting. There’s this cat named Cisco who works at the Cane that was gonna fight that night. And I always told myself that if I every got the chance I’d love to see this cat do his thing. Now I’d never been in the Beaumont before, so this was all gonna be new for me. Currently the Beaumont’s main purpose is as a big ass cowboy club, they gots the mechanical bull and all that other good cowboy shit. Plus it also serves as a stopover for any rock band passing thru that needs a venue bigger then your average bar stage. Back in the day the place was known as Heartlands, and was known as one of the biggest dance clubs in the city. Shit, they’d stuff 1500 big-haired muthafucker’s into the place and all the Prince you’d wanna hear. But for all the above reasons I never once ventured inside to check it out.
First thing I noticed when I walked in was that the fuckin place is huger then a muthafucker, and the second thing is that the place was filled elbow to asshole with muthafucker’s. In the middle of the main dance floor they had the ring set up and around it were the judges and around them was VIP sitting and so on and so on. I saw stairwells and shit leading to upper and lower levels, but I was happy to stay where I was. It was cool to note that this was one of the few times that I’ve ever walked into a club and have the doormen not look me over. I attributed that to all the pumped jacked up muthafucker’s walking around. You know how it is at shit like this, every cat that thinks he’s a tough guy is walkin around in a permanent state of flex.
Then there were the people sitting around the ring all dressed down to the nines and shit. I’m talkin tuxedo’s, fancy gowns with the cleavage down to the yammer, all fancy pants out and shit. Fuck, it was just like in Vegas. Though I’ve never been to Vegas, but I’ve seen it on TV. And it was hot, noisy and it stank, and just seemed like a rude place for a person of my delicate nature to be. Hmmm, reminded me of the old LoneStar if I must say so. I got to watch a couple of bouts before Cisco came out, and they were kind’a cool. The strange sight of the night was the mid-card entertainment. They drug out this little 12-year-old girl who’s supposed to be all the singin rage in Branson, Mo. You know Branson? the red neck Vegas. She was all decked out in ho-slut makeup and shit, and they stuck her in the middle of the ring and we all gave a listen as she belted out a half dozen tunes. It was just so fuckin Twilight Zone and shit, here’s this little 12 year old girl all hoed out, singing and twisting her tiny ass in front of this pumped up, jacked up, fancy dress wearin, cigar smoking, mullet haired, pimped out crowd. For some reason it reminded me of the early days of Rome and the Coliseum. It was after she got done that it became time for my pal Cisco to come on. The cat he was fighting came in the ring first, not much preamble or fanfare, just came off the wall near me and hopped into the ring. Then the fuckin place went apeshit, Cisco came out from the back of the building to his own theme music and entourage. It was pretty badass if must say so. Cisco hopped into the ring and I was shocked at the size difference between the two. Cisco is maybe 5’6 and a buck fifty? While the dude he was fighting had to come in at 200, 210 and a good six feet. Ultimate fighting is a mix of boxing, martial arts and just plain old school ass beating. The way to win is to beat your opponent until they either submit or pass out, or until the ref pulls your ass up off of em. This shit is not for the weak of heart. At first bell Cisco came out and he must’s stepped wrong or some shit cause he twisted the fuck out’a his ankle. And to show you how tough this muthafucker is, where most of us can’t or won’t even think of walkin on a twisted ankle, Cisco fought the full four rounds on it. But I will admit that during the second round I almost walked out. Even though I bounced for twenty years and once thought of myself as a tough guy, it pained me inside to see these two guys doing their best to break the other one down. Isn’t that weird, I can’t watch boxing for the same reason. But because it was Cisco I stayed it out. He ended up fighting the bigger guy to a draw, which was very badass by my book. I saw Cisco at the Hurricane Saturday night when he popped in for a bit, he was on crutches and his face had definitely seen better days but he was already getting ready for his next fight. I shook his hand and told em how much I dug it.
And if you’re in the Hurricane some night and decide to fuck up or God forbid, call the chick behind the bar a bitch, please watch for the short Hispanic cat with all the ink work on his neck and the name Cisco spelled out on the back of his head. He’ll be the reason behind your crying like a little bitch. Bringing the pain baby. Peace