Everyone in my classroom was manipulated by all the crazy stuff that Crazy Lidz would do. Those yet uncrowned graduates would giggle at his overrated jokes like pre-school spoilt brats.

But when a serious guy like me tried to give them a pure glimpse of reality I would fall victim to their boos. Arg, my classmates needed a spark of life. Lisakhanya Siyeza had been my classmate since the Grade 3 and he bored me since day one.

Even though he realised the annoyance of his ego, this lad wouldn’t halt getting on my nerves.

One Monday evening, I was heading home with the gym squad. It was an extremely tough day. If not busting our wrists with shovels in the garden, Bra Neo, the coach would ensure we’d chopped our naked fists with the punch bag.

I temporary cursed the gym that day for my common Monday stresses, till the overrated chap approached my eyes. Good heavens! Where was this knocked-knees maniac going to? Wherever he was going, I did not wish to know, because I knew nonsense was to be introduced to my calm ears.

“Ayo-ayo, hail to Ap, the guy fears to take on Crazy Lee, this Saturday at the Gym, Ap, are you beef or chicken?” he darted from here to there hyping his whack freestyle hip-hop verse.

“You can’t be serious Lee, mfethu. I’ll knock your teeth out,” finally I got the chance to boast to the loser.

“Nci-nci, Ap your eyes must be the sky, Denver and I are the stars in your eyes.”

Denver was the typical underdog, which I gave a win this past weekend. At least that’s what I do for an underdog in the ring. I just put over youngsters. When they punch me, I lie for the ten count.

Before I realized we were in the centre of everyone’s attention, so from there I knew this was getting serious.

“Don’t you dare taunt me of my last fight, everyone knows last week was to put Denver over the fans.”

“Whatever you call it, Ap, that fella beat the taste off your mouth…”

“Enough,” Bra Nazi, the coach, squeezed himself into the conversation.
Nobody knew my abilities better than coach.
“Ap, we need to settle these scores, you won’t entertain your rival’s satisfaction.”

“Coach, I suggest you retreat. I’m graciously giving the oke a chance to scrutinize his tongue, because next Saturday it will taste red.”

I saw the satisfaction in Nazi’s face.

“Ap, you never seize to amaze me. At least you’ll put a fight before you lose, you better get ready.”


On the road to the match day, hordes of school kids hyped for it. I couldn’t wait till I nailed this fool with a single right hook. I watched him day in and out impersonating the match of Floyd Mayweather Jr vs Connor McGregor with his drama club. One of his typical annoying karaoke.

To further his taunting, he even modernized his dance moves with a jab-jab-uppercut freestyle dancing. Lisakhanya Siyeza spelled T-O-T-A-L M-A-N-I-A-C.

I settled to not go to training that week. That oke was a rookie in black and white.

Saturday midday came, the gym hall attendants cheered for this screw-job. On the squared circle was my ready self on the top right corner, Crazy Lee on the opposite direction, one-on-one.

Two nonsensical arch-rivals, each bearing rage mind, hatred in heart, disguise in smiles and one was bound to go down. I knew it wouldn’t be me, at least that’s what I thought.

After touring the ring from corner to corner, I felt a little dizzy, an ache on my lateral malleolus. On the contrary my opponent was an ox. I watched his typical stunts ducking from there to here till my light went out…8…9…knock-out..,Rii-iii-iing!

“Crazy Lee! Crazy Lee! Crazy Lee!”


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