Central Park, New York’s purse snatcher catcher writes book about a grappler in New York. Read first chapter here (free).
Champagne and Caviar
By Gaston Cavalleri
A shaggy mop fell each side of a grappler’s neck as he stood proud, until the fight bell rang. Then the grappler slumped to his knees, sporting black lycra shorts and a defined body like a transparent sachet of peanuts. This was Johnny Cava, an over-the-hill Australian grappler, who just found himself on the rough end of an underground fight bout in Brazil. A chaotic swell of Portuguese chanting surged through the hall. Johnny Cava staggered to his feet, covered in sweat beads and splashes of blood. Cava’s head hung in shame. A referee grabbed his right hand then raised the left hand of his fresher opponent.
Cava was thirty-four, but, in many ways, still had the mind of a younger man. His competitor was at least ten years his junior, about the age Cava felt, especially when he gave…
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