Day three, Cayman diary. Toonoy version. I have to say I’m eating humble pie right
now, I thought the promotion would be a flop, ticket sales were not good, and I had
a few of the fights down as being potential mismatches. How wrong I was. In true
Caymanian tradition everyone left it until they arrived at the gate to buy their
tickets, and it was a virtual sellout of around 2,500, though as you could wander
and stand where you liked, that may have gave the impression of 5000 – plus we were
bloody noisy (I gave a few ‘big up’s to Radam, Smiley and the don, don’t know if you
heard me fellas?). The promotion was hyper professional, with no more than ten mins
between each bout, and one of our local steel pan bands playing not just between
bouts, but between rounds. Clifford had funded a great firework display over the
caribbean sea to start the televised part of the evening off, I was surprised
Showtime didn’t use it. Every fight was explosive, it was just a shame that Charles
Whittaker didn’t get a little air time. I woke my son Joe up to see Tommy Hearns, he
may only be six, but he’ll appreciate it when he’s sixteen. I may be rambling here
to you city boys, but to be at an event like this in our little island, is quite
something. Would you be standing in the bogs in some big Vegas casino, peeing next
to, and talking to Dan Goosen about what a great show he put on? By the way, he said
it was Wayne, not Cheryl, that called it quits. And Mr.Avila. Pleasure to meet you
sir, sorry I couldn’t make it to the Weston before your flight, but you’ll be
pleased to hear Joe’s hockey team won their game. I hope you enjoyed your stay and
will join us again if and when they run Cayman Knockout II. Pathetic fanboy that I
may be (and I’m sure I’ll get some stick for it), it made my day that you seemed to
know who I was, and sod Facebook, TSS is my second home. Fo’sure, holla back ladies,
pinoy power, and Toonoy to you all my brothers. Andy from Newcastle, and Wee Joe.
You are the man, my Toonoy bro. Holla!