[legendsport]

Tampa, FL: November 23, 1911:

Rufus Barrell was nervous - upon reflection he figured he was more nervous watching his son than he had been when he had been playing baseball. It was a different experience, certainly. Beside him Alice was visibly a bundle of nerves, her father speaking softly to her and holding her hand.

The whole experience thus far had been surreal. Rufus had done plenty of traveling and this wasn't his first trip to Tampa. But this time he had both his nervous, high-strung wife and father-in-law in tow. He silently, and guiltily offered a silent thanks that they hadn't brought Possum and the three older boys along - as had been the original plan.

Rollie, now 15 and still a big admirer of his older brother, was visibly upset when told he wouldn't be going. Jack, 13, was disappointed more by missing a trip to someplace new than any other reason handled it more equitably. And Jimmy, at 11, was feeling guilty at being the cause of the cancellation of the trip for the boys - he had gotten sick.

Rufus had tried putting a pleasant spin on it, pointing out to Rollie and Jack that they would be able to continue working on Danny and Freddy's baseball skills. Though neither Rollie or Jack had a love for the game like Rufus himself did, they were capable players and first Danny (age 7), and now Freddy (age 6), were like baseball sponges - they had the bug and Rufus wanted to encourage it.

Rufus snapped out of his reverie and watched as his first-born son, barely seventeen years old, prepared to fight an older, more experienced man in his first professional fight. Joe looked confident - talented youth was always confident, in Rufus' experience. He knew that if you were young and an athlete and were not confident, you wouldn't make it.

He was facing a man eight years his senior, with more practical experience at the sport. And Wilson looked like a fighter: wiry, muscled and tough like old jerky. Rufus had trouble seeing Joe as anything other than a tow-headed boy. He reached over and grabbed Alice's other hand as he watched Cooter give Joe his final instructions.

All the pent-up anticipation and nerves released in the instant that the bell rang and Joe took three quick steps forward. He met Wilson in the center of the ring and he unleashed a powerful left hook into Wilson's ribs. The other fighter's eyes popped as he took the blow and he winced in pain, stepping back involuntarily. As Joe stepped towards him again, Wilson reached out and wrapped him up. The crowd started booing as the referee stepped in and separated the fighters.

Wilson circled into a neutral corner where Joe came at him with a wild left that missed. Undaunted he followed the miss with a flurry of punches that did land - but Wilson had tucked his arms and all the blows fell on Wilson's arms as he protected his ribs.

As though Alice were a conduit, Rufus could feel the kinetic energy of his father-in-law's total immersion in the action in the ring. There was no doubt that Joe Barrell's fighting instincts came from any place other than Joe Reid's combative nature. Reid's right hand was balled into a fist and he looked as though he wanted to climb into the ring himself.

In the ring, Wilson shoved Joe back, then stepped in and blistered a right to the jaw. Rufus winced and Alice sucked in a breath as Joe bounced back into the ropes, stunned. But he recovered quickly, stepped to his left and tagged Wilson with a jab to the face. The two then traded blows before Joe split Wilson's gloves with a straight left and landed a flurry at the bell.

The first round was in the books and to Rufus' admittedly unpracticed eye, he felt that one went to his son. To his left Alice was staring at their son, looking for any hint of an injury. To her left, Joe Reid was nodding and shouting attaboys at his grandson.

The second round unfolded much like the first - Joe was aggressive and chased Wilson around the ring, frequently landing strong punches. The referee admonished Joe after he had landed a punch that definitely came after the bell. "He looks good," Joe Reid said to Rufus as Alice chewed her fingernails quietly.

In the third, Wilson threw a nasty punch that Joe somehow slipped - it missed by a fraction of an inch. Then Joe hooked another left into Wilson's ribs. Joe had consistently worked the body and the results were starting to tell. Wilson made a good, and mostly successful effort at avoiding Joe until the younger man trapped him in a corner and whistled a combination to the chin. Wilson staggered and then fell on his back on the canvas as the referee shoved Joe towards a neutral corner and began his count.

Beside Rufus, Alice was counting along with the referee and then groaned as Wilson rose on five and nodded to the ref that he was okay to continue.

Joe aggressively pursued Wilson for the rest of the round, but the older fighter managed to hang on until the bell rang ending round three.

Cooter greeted him with a wide smile. "You've got him, son. That knockdown took the starch right out of him. Now just finish the job!"

And Joe did exactly that when the bell rang to start the fourth round. He stormed out of his corner and immediately went to the body again. But Wilson protected himself, even as the force of Joe's punches pushed him back. Finally, he was stuck in the corner and Joe rotated his torso and delivered a vicious cross to the jaw that folded Wilson like an accordion. He fell to the canvas for a second time - and this time he didn't get up. Rufus grinned as his wife counted along again, shouting "Ten!" and jumping up and down beside him. Joe Reid pulled his cigar out of his mouth, struck a match with his fingernail and lit up with a smile, saying, "Nothing beats a victory cigar, Rufus!"

Alice stopped jumping up and down, turned to Rufus and threw her arms around him. Smiling, he kissed her warmly and said, "I'm going back to work - but for the Eagles."