So this morning between whacks on my alarm clock's snooze button, I had a brief dream that I'd somehow overslept and missed Ward vs. Dawson by over an hour...it was sometime after midnight, in fact nearly 1am Sunday morning...
I stayed away from the RBR thread someone else had started in my stead to avoid spoilers as I cued up my DVR, but not before stupidly clicking on the General Forum while rubbing the gunk from my lids and seeing a few random thread titles like "LOL! 100% pure glass!" and "Expooooooosed! No chin, none...". It didn't make any sense. Who could have been knocked out in this match-up? I figured maybe they were talking about DeMarco vs. Molina or something else, maybe the Showtime card...
FF through the Klitschko-Charr replay, the co-feature, Lampley's blathering, and the ring walks all the way to Round 1. Ward drops his head back, ear almost flat to his left shoulder peering up at Dawson and pot shotting with his left jab as he circles in, close, but not too close. Dawson strolls in, very lazy stance, hands down, almost mocking Ward, just winging out lefts from his hip. Ward slips a lazy solitary right jab, tightens up his guard, stays low, elbows in, shoulders up, gets into Dawson's chest and plugs away with a few uppercuts until Dawson clinches. Huge rabbit punch right hook in the clinch by Dawson, smirking down at Ward and talking shit into his face, spraying it while he's saying it as a few beads of spittle fall from his gum shield into Ward's eyes. The ref angrily orders a break and chastises Dawson. On the step-back, Dawson is leering over at the ref like a proud teenage delinquent, jawing at him, and CRACK! Ward drops him with an overhand right while charging forward with his whole body on the follow-through after scuffing his lead foot rapidly past Dawson's. Looking completely baffled and panicked, Dawson wiggles his way up and is saved by the bell.
Pandemonium in his corner, he gets an earful from his trainer and snaps curses back at him, still wide-eyed. Ward sits calmly on his stool, watching him from thirty feet away, still as stone but for his flaring nostrils.
Round 2 begins with a desperate left hand lead by Dawson, trying to put on the man pants and establish control of the center of the ring. Ward ducks it and plants a left hook to the body that saps all the wind out of Dawson, causing him to grimace and tear up - and remain defenseless for the next right hand that puts him down and out cold.
KO2, not even twenty seconds in.
A moment of utter shock grips the crowd, and then the places explodes.
Ward finally drops his cool demeanor, hopping up and down and flailing his arms like a mad gorilla, locked in a roaring rictus with his cheeks pulled back as though under G-force, knees flying up past his chest and feet stomping hard enough down on the canvas to shake the entire surface, causing the skull of the still prone Dawson to bounce like a paddle-ball.
I'm sitting there, rubbing sleep out of my eyes, trying to process what I just saw and unable to believe it. "Guess he really was drained" I mumble, while sifting through all the fallout on ESB ranging from "that shot would have knocked out anybody
" to "Look at that acne on SOG's back, dead giveaway, this is what's killing boxing..."
Ward then gives an uncharacteristically brash and cocky interview saying he's done with super middleweight, and he just beat the best light heavyweight, so what more is there to do except move on up? He says he's skipping Cruiser and going straight for the WBC heavyweight championship...calling out Manuel Charr. He's chasing history to finally get some respect, and wants to outdo Jones. He says after beating Charr he'll be staying up there permanently to defend what's his.
That's where my subconscious suspension of disbelief fizzled and I snapped upright - still in a panic about being late, from in the dream. A quick glance over to my alarm clock radio revealed that its little red hymen dot was unbroken. It had never gone off. It was two hours
before time to start getting ready for work. Hitting the snooze button had been part of the dream
. This was some Inception shit.
Anyway, I never got back to sleep after that and it was a late night with a fussy baby. So I'm having a miserable day, bleary & fatigued, and I'm blaming Bad Chad for getting his stupid fucking glass jaw shattered and contributing to shocking me into a premature waking state.
Even if it didn't happen.
So while in reality I'm still looking at this as being very difficult to predict and think the odds shoulder be closer than they are - on general principle I'm going to throw a bit on Ward.
Still not biting on the under, though.
Unless the same dream recurs tonight.