August 20, 2026
The other day I got a call from my buddy Paul who said, “Tomorrow is fight night!” I hadn’t heard from Paul in a while, and I could only hope that he was referring to the KTCK Sports Radio Fight Night! Yes indeed, every year this sports radio station in Dallas gathers a bunch of rambunctious listeners to go head-to-head in the ring and beat the living heck out of each other for our entertainment. It takes place in the Bomb Factory every August down in Deep Ellum in Dallas. It’s called the Bomb Factory because it was once an actual bomb factory, but now it’s a concert venue. I’ve seen a bunch of shows there over the years, but I hadn’t been to Fight Night in around three years. I was a bit shocked when Paul called me considering I hadn’t really talked to him much over the last few years, but when he wanted to go to Fight Night with me, I was like, “Absolutely!”
Paul and his wife live in a suburb of Dallas about an hour from my house, and after I was formally introduced to his two new dogs we loaded up in my trusty Chevy Silverado and headed to Deep Ellum! After a quick barbecue bite at the Pecan Lodge we wandered into the Bomb Factory. First of all, I was shocked that the place had decided to return to its original ‘Bomb Factory’ name. For some reason they had dropped the BOMB part of the title and had just settled for the boring and bland name of THE FACTORY. So saints be praised! The old Bomb Factory is back to being the Bomb Factory. I’m guessing that the name Bomb Factory makes for a better promo tee shirt. Who wants a shirt that simply says, The Factory?
We got there way early, so we had plenty of time to get a ringside spot. I say spot, because there aren’t any seats in this place. So this always means wear comfy shoes because we were going to be standing a while. A while meaning from 4:00 to 9:00! Oh well, the event was free, and I was just happy to actually be going somewhere with someone! Okay, I don’t get to talk to many people anymore, and if it means I have to stand for several hours for a little socializing joy then so be it!
The big night had ten, three round fights scheduled for the punch out evening, and I couldn’t wait for the mano versus mano battles to get rockin! My dad was a big boxing fan, and I grew up watching Muhammad Ali, George Foreman, and Joe Frazier beating the heck out of each other. Okay, these fights would be nothing like that. Absolutely nothing like that! As far as most of these guys were concerned, their fighting experience usually doesn’t drift much past Mortal Combat and Street Fighter video games. Okay, I’m dating myself with those games, but it gets the point across.
The fights are refereed by an actual, professional boxing official, and in the past, I’ve seen the guy nearly crack up laughing at some the cat fighting, boxing tactics that go on during these fights. I’ve also seen him get pretty ticked off at the boxers when they don’t listen to him. Speaking of cat fights, unfortunately there were no girl fights scheduled for the evening’s card. Some years have had three or four matches of the feminine persuasion, and some of them were the best fights of the evening. Are there no women in north Texas who want to beat each other up for my entertainment? What’s this world coming to? The fighters may be paired up by weight, but sometimes that has very little to do with muscle tone. I’ve seen guys who are sporting twenty-inch biceps entering the ring against dudes whose most predominant body feature is hanging over their belt. Those fights usually don’t go so well.
If nothing else, this is a great place to see everyone’s favorite radio personalities in person. The radio guys come up to the ring and interview the fighters before their glory moment and afterward when they’re tasting blood and sucking wind. The guys throw out some pretty funny lines and the fighters generally dish out a little trash talk themselves, but there are usually so many conversations going on around me I can rarely ever hear them. The event is being broadcasted, so I guess I could bring a radio with me if I really wanted to hear them. Someone once asked me if I was jumping into the ring. Well, the cutoff age for fighters is forty, and although I truly believe I’m as fit as I was at forty, I probably don’t need to be jumping in the ring with some twenty-five-year-old ripped kid who is loaded with fire and testosterone, complimented with video game reflexes. I know there is such a thing as the Golden Gloves. I wonder if there is also the Silver Gloves for the AARP crowd.
The first fight was between a guy who had boxed a little and some dude who said his boxing skills were a result of a few street fights. Both guys were in their late twenties and had more than a little muscle tone working for them, but I guess nothing beats a good rough and rugged street fighter because the street fighter beat the heck out of his opponent. The fight didn’t even make it to the end of the first round. In fact, none of the first three bouts made the first bell. Three TKO’s right off the bat! When the guys in the fourth bout finished the first round the place exploded in cheers. Finally! Someone was tough enough to go the distance!
When the fight goes the distance, the crowd decides the winner. Who gets the most cheers wins! In short, whoever has the most friends show up usually wins. Although there was probably over a thousand fight fans crowded in the Bomb Factory, every boxer had their own little cheering section. One year a preacher took on the challenge, and I think his entire congregation showed up to cheer him on. It’s kind of hard to beat a guy fighting with the Almighty in his corner as well as his church, and yea, he won the fight.
Paul and I were trying to do a little prefight prediction before each match, and we were doing a really bad job regarding the task. So bad, that I started asking the guy next to me for pointers. I don’t think he knew much about boxing either, but he was having a great time. In fact, everybody was. I saw lots of women of all ages shouting and shaking their fists during the fights screaming, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” Most everyone was screaming with one fist pumping in the air and their other hand wrapped around a can of Corona.
Of course if the raging crowd along with the blood, guts, and glory inside the ring wasn’t exciting enough, there were the three ring girls to gawk at. I’m not sure who these young ladies were or how much they got paid for their duties, but the three lasses were pretty much wearing thongs. Even if the fights were lame no one could deny the quality badonkadonk that was moving around in the ring between rounds.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said as a couple of eleven-year-old boys made their way to the ring. Now this was something new for Fight Night. I had never seen kids take to the ring, but as one of the youngsters jumped in between the ropes he circled the ring taking in all the glory like a real pro. Actually the two tykes both had way more boxing experience than any of the adults who were duking it out for the evening. These little buckeroos had both fought in more than ten matches. When one of them was asked what his favorite class in school was, he simply said, “Kicking ass!” Even though that class wasn’t offered in my school, these kids had been schooled, and of all the fights for the evening, these kiddos showed more skill than anyone!
With the last fight of the night being a knockdown, drag out brawl, another exciting evening of fight night was over for the year. I bid farewell to my new friend at ringside, and Paul and I made our exit into the sultry air of Deep Ellum. I’m glad he reached out to me. We had been going to the fights religiously every year, but for some reason, I hadn’t heard from him over the last two years. I just figured I had ticked him off somehow or somewhere. Maybe I was just being paranoid. I had a great time catching up, and I’m already looking forward to next year.
Leave a comment