Intro mus Morrissey vs. Poole

This post is an excerpt from the revised book Morrissey vs. Poole: Txoj, Prizefighting thiab cov nqi rau cov neeg tua tsiaj tua neeg.

Huab cua kub nteg teev nyob rau hauv lub hoob nrog tus txiv neej nyob rau hauv kaum sim pw. Muab rau tseem pw tsaug zog, cov "Troy Giant" rho nws tus kheej mus ua ib tug zaum txoj hauj lwm nyob rau ntawm ntug kev txaj. The throbbing pain on both sides of his rib cage told him to lie back down but the World Prizefighting Champion (American Prizefighting Champion, at least) was determined to stand.

As he struggled to his feet and straightened out his six-foot frame, John Morrissey let out a heavy moan. As he stood, the light in the room revealed the tapestry of burn marks across his bare back as he staggered to the window. New York City was coming to life as Morrissey struggled to keep his feet.

As he turned back to his room, Morrissey caught a glimpse of himself in a small mirror. After five days in bed, his eye was still swollen and disfigured. The hole in his cheek had almost healed but it would have to be hidden by his beard for the rest of his life. His lips presented a swollen cracked mess.

In all his years of prizefighting, Morrissey had never been beaten beyond recognition. Morrissey had kept to his rooms for five days and refused to see his beloved Susan. It would be at least another week before his eye was healed enough to finalize the wedding plans.

William Poole had made John Morrissey do something that no other man was ever able to do. He made John Morrissey say, “Enough.” And “Bill the Butcher” was going to pay.

Koj yuav tawm ib saib los nug cov lus nug txog qhov no, los yog tej qho hauv tshooj nram qab no, ntawm kuv Facebook phab, Twitter profile thiab Google+ nplooj ntawv.

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