If Adair had kept away and used
his head, nothing could have prevented his winning.
As it was, however, he threw away his advantages, much as Tom Brown did
at the beginning of his fight with Slogger Williams, and the result was
the same as on that historic occasion. Mike had the greater strength,
and, thirty seconds from the start, knocked his man clean off his feet
with an unscientific but powerful righthander.
This finished Adair's chances. He rose full of fight, but with all the
science knocked out of him. He went in at Mike with both hands. The
Irish blood in him, which for the ordinary events of life made him
merely energetic and dashing, now rendered him reckless. He abandoned
all attempt at guarding. It was the Frontal Attack in its most futile
form, and as unsuccessful as a frontal attack is apt to be. There was a
swift exchange of blows, in the course of which Mike's left elbow,
coming into contact with his opponent's right fist, got a shock which
kept it tingling for the rest of the day; and then Adair went down in
a heap.
He got up slowly and with difficulty. For a moment he stood blinking
vaguely. Then he lurched forward at Mike.
In the excitement of a fight--which is, after all, about the most
exciting thing that ever happens to one in the course of one's life--it
is difficult for the fighters to see what the spectators see.
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