It was now filled with people, crowds from both supporter's sides having rushed forward into the ring. Some of them bore towels, others bottles of water, clearly intended for the weary fighters. Others were holding ticket stubs aloft and were shouting. I saw several of them standing in a circle around the referee, all of them red-faced and yelling. Perhaps these were the losers who were convinced that the man had made a bad call on the fight. Despite their yelling, however, the referee clearly wasn't backing down. From the way he stood, it was obvious that this wasn't the first time he had been angrily confronted after a match. Instead of looking down or refusing to meet the eye of the yelling men, he stood toe to toe with them, shouting right back into their faces and gesticulating just as wildly. It almost looked as though he was conducting an orchestra of some sort, and it made me smile briefly at the thought of him in a tux and tails. Even with the boxing ring now crowded with people, however, it was easy to spot Rhodes.
