She emerged from the smoke and swaggered down the makeshift tunnel toward the cage.

Colleen Schneider mounted the small, black stepstool to the cage’s entrance and ambled onto the mat. The blue-and-red LED-tinted darkness ceded the room to brighter lights. But she hadn’t come for them.

Across the cage, her younger, heavier opponent paced back and forth. Schneider stood almost motionless, except for the tapping of her feet.

It was 7:17 p.m.

The Turning Stone Resort Casino Event Center was about half-full and mostly silent. The 35-year-old with a career 11-7 record was fighting fourth on an 18-fight card. Spike TV wouldn’t begin its broadcast of Bellator 182 for another 90 minutes. It was Friday, one night before Floyd Mayweather and Conor McGregor’s spectacle would crystallize across the country in Las Vegas. This was a fight before The Fight.

Suddenly, the few hundreds in attendance stirred, seeming to turn toward Schneider all at once.

The ring-side announcer thundered, “Fighting out of Los Angeles, California, by way of Syracuse, New York…” and the crowd roared. Schneider’s face broke into a smile. The Cicero-North Syracuse High School graduate threw her right arm toward the lights. Screams poured down from the balcony.

“Yeah, Schneider!”

“Get it, ‘Cuse!”

“Let’s go Orange!”

It was 7:18 p.m.

The bell dinged. Schneider marched toward Kate Jackson, a 31-year-old Englishwoman with a career 8-2-1 record, and the two touched small, plastic gloves.

The two proceeded to circle one another until Schneider kicked out her left leg once, and then again. Her second kick landed a thwap on Jackson’s thigh. Schneider felt in control of the fight from its outset.

Then, she landed a reverse kick. She landed a punch. She landed another. Though she absorbed some hits too, Schneider thought she could have her way at any time. At one point, standing about a foot from her opponent, she smiled.

“Kick her in the head!” a bearded man yelled from the balcony.

“Kick her or kiss her!” a man yelled from the VIP area.

It was 7:21 p.m.

As Schneider readied herself to kick again, she planted her right foot near the blood of a fighter from a previous bout. She flicked her left leg up toward Jackson’s chest, but Jackson dodged to the right. Schneider’s right leg had left the mat during the kick and, as she went to put it down, her right knee crumpled. She knew it was gone.

Schneider keeled backward, landing on her back in the middle of the mat. Jackson jumped on top of her prone figure. Schneider knew she wouldn’t be able to stand up. So, in desperation, she rolled to try a kneebar. She physically couldn’t extend her leg to even attempt the move.

Then the bell clanged to end the first round. Schneider rocked back, then forward and tried to stand. She collapsed.

It was 7:23 p.m.

Five men in black polos huddled around Schneider as she sat on a stool. She tried to get on her feet but ended up hopping around on her left leg. She sat back down and bit her lip, then looked up toward the lights, her pained expression unhidden.

Schneider maneuvered toward the middle of the ring, to the midst of the scrum that had formed there. The referee took Schneider’s left wrist and Jackson’s right. Upon the advice of the ringside doctor, the announcer said, the fight would not continue. Jackson won by “total knockout.”

Schneider and Jackson hugged. As Jackson threw her hands in the air, Schneider hobbled toward the cage’s opposite exit. The speakers blared The Rolling Stones.

“I see people turn their heads and quickly look away / Like a newborn baby, it just happens everyday.”

It was 7:26 p.m.

A trainer ducked underneath her right arm. She leaned on him and limped toward the black curtain backstage, her face red, sweaty and screwed into something like a half-smile, half-grimace.

Across the arena, another fighter emerged from the smoke and swaggered down the makeshift tunnel toward the cage.

Published on August 25, 2017 at 10:07 pm

Contact Sam: sjfortie@syr.edu | @Sam4TR