I wrote this before the fight for my site. I thought I would share it with some boxing fans who appreciate John Ruiz as much as I do, in a non-gay way.
FANTANA MEETS JOHN RUIZ
When a short, fat, balding man shouts to you, you ignore him. When he shouts “You’re number 1” you quicken the pace of your stride and walk away as fast as you can. Not if you’re John Ruiz. John Ruiz embraced me, in a non-gay way, like I embrace a cool bowl of coco pops after doing some intesive weight training. He looked me in the eye, and with a thundery voice like that of God himself he said to me “Yeah!” The words of a true champion.
I had waited outside in the cold with about 50 other people for John Ruiz, or possibly David Haye, to leave the building where they had their weigh in. Ruiz, a trim and muscular 239 pounds, and David Haye, a pumped up 222 pounds. Me, myself, I weighed in at the morning at a pretty reasonable 154 lbs, plus some holiday weight, injury weight, water weight, and excess weight.
So I waited outside, my wife with me, and we waited for the former WBA champion. I grew tired, I couldn’t see too much at the weigh in, I wish I had packed my Height Enhancement Socks. Finally, with a roar from the ever increasing crowd, John Ruiz comes out, with his trademark Gamekeepers hat on.
He had some bodyguards asking people to move out the way, but John, being John, took his precious time and signed things, took photos, chatted with the fans. He had this, and it is hard to explain, shining light coming from out of his whole body. He looked like an Angel, but better, and with a designer beard.
“You get in the photo with John Ruiz!” I say to my wife, as my heart pumps harder and faster than it does normally, it was like I was climbing some stairs. “No, you get in the photo, this is your time” she replies, remembering why I married her, she always puts my non-gay love for John Ruiz first. I shove the camera in her hand and with my trembling man-legs I make my way towards the man who has inspired me to first put my man-fingers to keyboard and write about his greatness.
I know a lot about John Ruiz. More than most people. I know he likes to read opera scripts, he likes to listen to Al Green and Johnny Cash, he once wrote a screenplay which was rejected by HBO and was titled “Becoming the Champ”. It was about a down and out guy, written off after being knocked out, who fought the hard way up the ranks for his chance at the title. I also know that John Ruiz likes to look people in the eye, and thinks a strong handshake is the hallmark of a trust worthy man. I walk up to John Ruiz, looking at him straight in the eye, with my man-hand held out for a firm, non-gay, shake.
I didn’t get to shake his hand. Some twat with a Chelsea flag knocked me out of the way, I tripped over and was on the floor. My whole John Ruiz related life flashed before my Baby Blues, my wife didn’t seem to notice I was almost knocked out and lying on the floor. She was perving on John Ruiz. Suddenly, as fast as Bill from True Blood, John Ruiz spun around and zeroed in on me on the floor. He literally picked me up, before stopping and asking the bodyguard he was with to help him because he feared he may hurt his back before the fight.
“Are you ok?” John Ruiz said. His eyes could only be described as lion like, if you look at the picture of the lion on a lion bar you will know the eyes I am talking of. “John Ruiz I got you number 1 above Ali, you are going to win for sure…” I was going to continue talking when a roar came from the crowd, and people ran from around John Ruiz to meet David Haye who was just leaving the building. Without so much as signing an autograph, he jumped in his black Audi TT and fucked off, probably back to Cyprus, the ponce.
John Ruiz smiled at me, the only man to stay behind with John Ruiz, the rest wanting to see David Haye. “Can I get a picture with you Mighty John please sir?” I asked. “Mighty John huh? I like it!” My wife lined up the shot and John Ruiz smiled, while I looked like a guy about to get hit by a bus which had big boobies strapped to the front of it. John Ruiz can have that effect on a guy. I thanked Ruiz for the picture and asked him if he liked Stoke City “I love Stoke City! They are the all about hard work, honesty, tenaciousness and mixed with skill.” He said. “Just like you John, just like you.”
I managed to tell him about my charity boxing match with Mark TKO and he wished me look and says he thinks if I show this much passion all the time I will win the fight. At this point some other fans tried to get in with the John Ruiz crowd and his bodyguard asked me to move on, and John gave me a hug and told me he will wave to me from the ring. As he got in his car and drove off I banged on his window like the scene from Overboard, he put his fist up to me. I was the only pro-Ruiz man in the crowd, and if anyone was there, that was me shouting “RUIZ NUMBER 1” I know it, he knows it, you know it. Come Saturday night, David Haye will know it.
P.S Picture quality is bad because I had to take a photo of a photo to get it on the laptop.