Wouldn’t it be great if countries could settle matters about who wins some disputed land as they used to do in olden times? Members of the two tribes would meet on a field and send out their biggest and strongest warriors. They’d be armed with a spear and a shield, or a sword or a slingshot. They’d fight, maybe to the death, maybe not. The winner’s tribe would get the land. They’d rejoice. The losers would slink away, carrying their defeated warrior.
THE WORLD’S BIGGEST SPORTS EVENT EVER
“Welcome, everyone. I am Chet Grimes with my co-anchor Charles McMaster, and we are here at the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff, Wales—the second-largest indoor arena in the world—to broadcast to you live, the event you have been waiting for, the battle between two undefeated champions, Kim Jong-un of North Korea and Donald Trump of the United States. It’s winner-take-all—and “all,” of course, means South Korea.
“I’m told that in addition to the more than 100,000 people jamming into this covered stadium meant to hold just 75,000, there are more than 4 billion people watching this live around the world.”
“Yes, Chet, this is to be the most-watched event in television history. Never has an event been so anticipated, so advertised and discussed. Ever. At this time, we are waiting for the ring walk of these two gladiators. We’ll be right back with that. Right after these messages.”
* * *
“And so we’re back. The odds makers are all over the place with this one, Charles. It’s 6 to 5 for Trump in Las Vegas, in spite of his age, which is a time when few fighters get into the ring. But he is a full heavyweight at 6 foot 3 and 240 pounds. And that should give him a big advantage in the power department.
“But it’s another story in North Korea where the odds makers have it 1 to 100 for Kim. He’s young, he’s wiry, he’s fast. I’m told he’s been doing bobbing-and-weaving training and punching up. Don’t underestimate this young man. He could wear out the heavyweight early and come back to win a decision later.”
“There is no decision, Chet. It’s either a knockout or the ref stops it. It’s a fight to the finish.”
“Yes, I forgot about that.”
“The spotlights are searching the arena and continually going over to where the fighters will come in. Everybody’s screaming. While we’re waiting, let’s cut to that tape from yesterday at the weigh-in, when the two were nose-to-nose.”
“Yes, here it is. Kim in the white trunks with the red missiles on the legs, Trump in the blue trunks with the American flag on the seat of his pants. They’re both scowling.”
“You can see Kim hunching forward to meet Trump nose-to-nose.”
“He’s got to lean forward to get over Trump’s stomach.”
“And he’s standing on a tall footstool to get nose-to-nose.”
“With diamonds and rubies on it.”
“They’re shouting. Everybody’s shouting.”
“Wait a minute, live now, the curtains are beginning to open and Kim will make his way into the ring. Let’s get back here. The crowd is going wild. Flags are waving. What an event.”
“We’ll be right back after these messages.”
* * *
“Here comes Kim. He won the toss. He’s scowling and looking straight ahead, bouncing up and down to some sort of military music. There are about a dozen soldiers surrounding him with bayonets at the ready. He’s starting his walk.”
“There it goes.”
“The rocket. See the smoke behind them? It’s a pocket rocket, now it’s flying around the arena, way up there under the dome. This is amazing. And Kim doesn’t even look up at it. It’s circling around. I hope it doesn’t drop anything. And now it’s come back above Kim and it’s settling down on its tail, just in front of him, right there on the carpet. The engines are turned off. Kim gives it a little pat. What a feat. He’s looking menacingly at the audience. One half the stadium rises. I think he cracked a smile. He’s at ringside, and now he’s climbed up the stairs. All these generals are holding the ropes open and he ducks through, and now he is bouncing around in his corner. He’s broken a sweat. A good sign. Better to not be dry before a fight.”
“He really is a strange-looking man.”
“What did he say at the weigh-in?”
“Trump snarled ‘Rocket Man, I’ll knock you to the moon.’ Then Kim said, ‘Lunatic loser…’ but nobody could hear the rest.”
“Too much cursing.”
“It was in Korean. Everybody has been interpreting it on Twitter.”
“We’ll be right back after these messages.”
“Did you see where they cut to President Moon of South Korea in the audience? He stood on cue. He was clapping.”
* * *
“Well, the red curtains open again and there is Donald Trump, blue trunks. Black socks for some reason.”
“I’m told they are his lucky socks.”
“He’s not moving yet, just bouncing up and down, now he’s turned away to show off the American flag on the back of his trunks, wiggling his behind. Now he’s turned around. You see how big he really is in comparison to Kim. It doesn’t seem fair. He’s raised his arms over his head. He’s just wearing the trunks, the socks and a red baseball cap.”
“He’s headed toward the ring. He’s got an enormous entourage. Maybe 200 people. Everybody who ever worked for him in the White House, now or fired. Isn’t this something?”
“Everybody’s trailing behind, smiling and waving”
“Trump is chanting ‘America First, America First,’ he’s trying to get everybody to join the chant.”
“Fat chance of that here in Wales.”
“He’s entering the ring now. He’s also bouncing up and down, staring across the ring.”
“I’ve seen that look before.”
“Did anyone see if President Moon was clapping?”
“We’ll be right back, Chet, with the playing of the national anthems and the introduction of the fighters.”
* * *
“The Star Spangled Banner” is sung by a spry but aging Tony Bennett. Trump sternly demands everybody stand, and they do. President Moon, in the front row, stands, sings and claps. Trump seems to approve.
Some pretty woman in a gauzy dress comes into the ring and sings the North Korean anthem. It goes on and on. In the front row, President Moon stands and also sings. After 12 minutes, Chet announces, “we have to go to commercial now, and so we leave in mid-anthem.” Twenty-two commercials follow and we return to the ring, where the anthem is still going on but now is winding down.
“Okay, okay, I’m told we’re going up to the ring shortly for Michael Buffer to do the introductions.”
The anthem ends, there is long applause and then the bell rings three times. The spotlight waves over the center of the ring. Michael Buffer, with wavy white hair, appears with two girls in bikinis, one on each side, one from Korea and one from America.
“Ladies and gentlemen and everybody watching around the world. Here we go. Two undefeated champions. Let’s get ready to RUMBLE!!!”
The lights flash and the crowd goes wild.
“In the red corner, on my right, we have the undefeated Kim Jong-Un, standing 5 feet 7¼ inches tall and weighing in at 163½ pounds, from Pyongyang, North Korea, with a sensational professional record of 187 wins and no defeats, with all 187 wins coming by way of knockout….”
“Chet, they say he poisons most of them.”
“The Chairman and Supreme Leader of the People’s Republic of Korea, KIM JONG-UN!!!”
Kim steps forward, scowls, raises one arm in a stiff fascist salute with a red boxing glove at the top and dances around.
“And in the blue corner, also undefeated, originally from New York City, now fighting out of Washington D.C., Donald Trump, the President of the United States. He is 6 feet, 3 inches tall and he weighed in at 240 pounds, and also has an undefeated record of 82 wins and 0 defeats, with all 82 wins by knockout…”
“Chet, he calls them ‘conquests.’ What does he mean by that?”
“I don’t know, Charles. Did Moon stand?”
“I don’t know, Chet.”
The referee calls the fighters to the center of the ring. There is no stare-down. Trump looks over Kim’s hedgerow hair, Kim looks into the top of Trump’s stomach.
“…so follow my instructions, let’s have a fair fight and good luck to both of you. Shake now and come out fighting.”
The fighters tap boxing gloves and go back to their corners to wait for the bell.
Trump and Kim come out and try jabbing each other. Kim ducks all of them. Kim’s jabs don’t reach Trump. Trump tries several haymakers but they all go over Kim’s head. The crowd boos for the lack of activity in this round. Trump returns to his corner, all out of breath. But he refuses to sit on the stool. “I will not sit on the flag,” he says. Kim returns to his corner, sits on his stool with his arms on the ropes, and two slaves in diapers and headdresses come into the ring and wave giant feathers at him to cool him down.
“I think they’re from Malaysia, Chet.”
Trump and Kim come out and again try jabbing with each other. As this continues to not work, they finally fall into a clinch, which the referee has trouble getting them to give up. Both are clutching the other’s hair. When they start up again, they again clinch and grab each other’s hair. They are pulling each other around the ring by their hair. Again the referee breaks them, but this time wiggles his index finger at both of them as a warning.
“You’re fired,” Trump says. The crowd goes wild. Trump holds up a glove and points its thumb toward the exit at the back of the stadium. The referee leaves the ring and walks out to a chorus of boos. Another referee appears and climbs into the ring.
“Chet, they were expecting this. They’ve got five lined up.”
Suddenly, as Kim is distracted, Trump throws a haymaker that lands right on Kim’s jaw, staggering him. Trump moves in for the kill, but Kim tries an uppercut that, though apparently intended for Trump’s groin, hits him in the kneecap. Trump limps around. The new referee grabs Kim by the wrist, lifts him off the ground with one arm and, with the other, raises an index finger to indicate that it is a one point deduction. “Low blow” he shouts. More screaming from the crowd.
But this has given Kim time to recover, and as Trump moves in again, Kim is ready. Trump pulls back to fire a giant haymaker. And so does Kim. Each lands on the other’s jaw at the exact same time, and both, together, fall to the ground, Trump landing on his butt and then falling to his side, and Kim simply straight back. The slaves come in but the referee waves them back out. The referee doesn’t know what to do. He counts to 10 then looks to the ring apron for officials to give him instructions. People start throwing things into the ring, and everyone runs for cover, except for the two participants, who, in the end, have to be taken off unconscious on stretchers.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before, Chet. They’re throwing beer bottles.”
“I think it means rematch.”
“We’ll be right back.”
“Have you seen President Moon?”
* * *
“Can we get him over here right now?”
“We’re here in the Trump dressing room and it’s pretty chaotic, but here he comes.”
“Are you all right?”
“Why shouldn’t I be all right?”
“Well then, the question everyone wants to know is, will you do a rematch?”
“Of course not. I won. Hit him fair and square and down came the Rocket Man.”
“But with what happened to you…”
“That was the biggest punch I have ever thrown. I hit him so hard, I blacked out there for a moment or two.”
“No rematch. And where’s South Korea? Where’s that Mr. Moon guy?”
“We’ll be right back.”