Lucadamo, the referee, stands, arms akimbo, legs apart, in all the drama of the power of his decisions. All the stuff is in place. Each matched by weight, the fighters emerge, led to the slaughter in bouncy, confident miens. The elite ones go the three-round distance in brutal bursts of roundhouse kicks, double leg takedowns and immobilizing choke holds. One card lasts less than a minute before the pin.
Some aggressors are in possession of a quickness that seems otherwise inhuman.
Knees bend in ways that defy their design. Rears and crotch areas are regarded without homophobic burden. Bodies fly upward and over, crashing to the mat with genuine pangs of pain. The slapping sound of flesh on the hard mat floor fills the air. A few of the fighters are proclaimed skinheads.