The Boston Arena, March, 1965… Otis Fletcher is used to sticky, constrained, desperate situations: man-sweat sharp with fear, arms taut, and ribs and faces entwined, high-tops scrabbling the bull’s-eye mat, not sure he can hold on one more second, or wants to. Ear guards damp grunts; thrashing masks pain (blood sometimes too, if the ref…… Continue reading One: Octopus
a 1960s novel of redemption