By Iris Carden
It was billed as the Fight of the Century! The finalists for the Backyard Championship were Alice and Ann.
As both promoter and referee, Angela was very pleased with the turn-out. All three of the littlies were there to witness the event.
Angela had thought of the idea earlier that day.
Billy Taylor said to Alice: “Girls can’t fight.” Billy went home with a black eye, a bleeding nose, and a much improved understanding of the modern woman.
Of course, for this competition, Angela only had two of her sisters fighting, but that was OK. The only person she knew who could fight anywhere near as well as Alice, was Ann.
This would be a good match. And Angela was pretty sure people would pay to see a good backyard boxing match.
This time round, the audience was made up of the littlies, Amy, Alexander and Amanda. (Their Mum had a thing for the letter A.) And of course, the littlies didn’t have money to pay for tickets, but you had to start somewhere.
In her mind, Angela could see adding more boxers to the program, and drawing bigger and bigger crowds. One day Alice and Ann could be the best and second best boxers in the world, and she, Angela, would be making truckloads of money, selling tickets to people to come and see them fight.
There was only one thing that could interfere with Angela’s grand plan.
Dad came home early.
“Just what the hell are you kids up to?” He thundered as he saw two of his daughters, hands wrapped in rags to look like boxing gloves, belting each other in the back yard.
“Get inside all of you and get cleaned up for dinner.”
With two sentences, Angela’s incredible career as a boxing promoter was brought to an abrupt end.
The Backyard Championship was never decided, and Alice and Ann both gave up fighting, except for the odd time after school when someone teased them.