The corner exit to the left of the ramp leads down stairs and into the basement, where the fighters break a sweat. The scene is equal parts spare, bare bones and intense. With a few impromptu warm-up areas established, fighters prep themselves with training partners, sometimes no more then 30 feet from their opponent, whacking warm-up pads, pummeling in and out of clinches, grappling, twisting and escaping submissions.
You can hear the sounds of the crowd, just muffled enough to signify someone has been drilled, jacked, smacked or tapped in a kind of weird otherworldly dissonance. The mob waits to be fed, largely ignorant of the fine-tuning and sacrifices of those who will entertain it.
The fighters and their entourages get ready for the walk into the cage. David warms up in a series of drills with George and other training mates. A couple first-timers warm up 20 feet away, looking the part of debuting fighters -- nervous, energized, frantic, smashing fists and elbows into the pads. David, a seasoned veteran, knows there’s no sense wasting precious energy.
For every victory, there is a defeat. Losses come in various ways -- debatable decisions, clean-cut knockouts, a submission you would have seen coming miles away if not for the fact that your brain was addled with exhaustion.
As David warms up, middleweight D.J. Roberson has just returned from his pro debut, an impressive 50-second knockout. Uncorking a series of well-timed punches to finish the job, Roberson has the unmistakable glow of pride -- and relief -- that comes from getting a first fight out of the way.
“I felt confident and fast,” Roberson said. “I want to concentrate on finishing people.”
Moment of truth
After 11 bouts, including a rough decision loss for David’s roommate, Ocampo, the main event is on.
David makes his ring entrance, wearing a funky head wrap that elicits both cheers and confusion from the crowd. Granados comes next, as David limbers up in his corner, looking equal parts devilish and serene with his shaven head, long goatee and various tats. In a previous victory here, David licked blood off his gloves and did a weird European-style jig -- dance steps he’d picked up in his travels abroad.
The first round becomes a feeling-out process typical of a fight between two veterans. While green fighters often explode out of the gate with adrenaline-tinged swings, pros approach it more like a chess match. Fighting lefty, David pokes a few jabs, as Granados shows a big counter right hand, mostly missing but occasionally glancing or landing solid. They probe, look for openings, set traps.
David lands a quick left cross, then momentarily floors Granados with a jab, springing in to pin him. Only Granados pops back up so quickly that the two men end up in a clinch instead. Wrenching Granados against the cage, years of developing core strength come in handy for David. Finally, Granados goes down, as David works to ground-and-pound.
Granados proves wily, often denying clean angles, constantly moving off his back while tying up David’s arms.
The second round feels like a replay of the first, with short doses of stand-up action before David gets another takedown. The crowd seems to sense a stalemate in a fight that teeters between boring and highly technical. David is clearly the better wrestler, though neither man seems to have been hurt.
That changes in the third, when David eats a walloping right hand and a follow-up combination. Granados has finally hit the elusive target. David’s eyes glaze over, but the rallying instinct kicks in as Granados closes for an apparent finish. David shoots for a takedown and nails it, snuffing out the threat. He resumes popping shots from the top, and while Granados is unbowed, he can’t seem to sweep or submit David.
Despite being on top for most of the first three rounds, David looks exhausted as the bell rings. His cornermen bring in a high stool. Granados’ conditioning is impressive, and he looks confident he can dial in another big right hand in the final two rounds.
However, David resumes the game plan, taking down Granados and grinding on him en route to a unanimous decision. He earns a 50-45 shutout on all three cards.
Down the home stretch of the bout, scattered boos spilled from the crowd as the duo seemed stuck in a holding pattern of takedown, half-guard, occasional strikes and neutralizing one another in between David’s punches and elbows. It beats suffering a broken jaw on short notice.
For David, the victory represents the summation of all the years of trying to connect the dots, as he leaves the cage with the Pure Combat featherweight championship.
“It’s a milestone, and I hold it with pride, but it’s the threshold to a whole new outlook of the sport,” he said. “I’m in constant flux, developing new skills to bring every time I fight. To be stagnant is to regress. I’m obligated to evolve more with every fight.”