The Song of David(85)

I was up and over the cage wall before anyone could stop me.

The crowd grew silent beyond the octagon, and strangely enough, no one challenged me. I knelt beside him, trying to hold onto him, not knowing what to do, and the referee was immediately at my side, as well as someone from Shotgun’s corner.

“He’s seizing!” the referee said sharply, and someone shoved a mouth guard back between Tag’s teeth to keep him from biting his tongue. I slid my arm beneath his head to prevent it from knocking against the floor.

Shotgun was sitting up blearily, and the medical personnel who had come immediately to his aid abandoned him for the new emergency. From the corner of my eye I thought I saw Molly. Blond hair, blue eyes, silently waiting. And I bit back a curse and slammed down my walls, refusing to acknowledge her.





THE TELEVISION IN the emergency waiting room was tuned into a local station, and Millie, Henry and I sat in numb silence, listening to a Vegas reporter sharing the news of the day. Axel, Mikey, Cory, Andy and Paulo were there too, looking as grim and gutted as I felt, and they raised their eyes to the screen when Tag’s name was mentioned. The reporter stood outside of the MGM, where people were still streaming in and out of the venue, her hand clutching a fuzzy blue microphone, her expression both serious and exultant, telling us what we already knew about Tag’s fight and none of the stuff we wanted to know.



It was fight night at the MGM this evening, the main event one many had been waiting a long time to see, but it was an undercard fight featuring a last-minute fill-in that has been the subject among fight fans here tonight. David Taggert was called up only three days ago to fill the slot vacated by Jordan Jones. Jones had been scheduled to fight long-time UFC favorite and former Light Heavyweight champion, Terry Shaw, when he sustained an injury that left him unable to fight.

David Taggert, after a stunning upset in April against Bruno Santos, was called in to take his place. Fight fans definitely got their money’s worth when Taggert and Shaw went a full four rounds before Taggert knocked Shaw out cold. However, that’s not where the story ends. The controversy is over an apparent seizure Taggert had after the fight ended. Shaw was out cold. The fight was over. The referee raised Taggert’s hand, Tag Taggert turned toward the crowd, raised his hands, took a few steps, and collapsed.

He was taken to an area hospital in critical condition, and we are now hearing reports that shortly following the April fight where Tag Taggert defeated Bruno Santos, he had a run-in at his Salt Lake City bar with a former employee. Taggert was struck across the forehead in the altercation and sustained a fairly serious head wound. Word is that he was treated and released that night, but has kept a very low profile in the weeks following the altercation. Speculation is now running rampant. We will keep you posted about his condition and any developments that may shed more light on this stunning series of events.



Tag went into surgery about an hour after arriving in the emergency room. He actually regained consciousness briefly in the ambulance, or so we were told. He asked about the fight, was told he had a seizure, and he went under again. He had the gall to make sure he really won before losing consciousness again. It almost made me laugh. I would have laughed if I wasn’t so angry.

According to the doctor who came and talked to us about three hours after we arrived in the hospital waiting room, Tag’s brain had started to bleed and swell, most likely during the fight. I thought of the blow he took to the forehead at the end of the first round, when his legs had wobbled and we all thought he was going down. He’d fought for three more rounds before he took another blow to the same spot right before the fight ended. The swelling created pressure which had then caused the seizure, which in turn helped them discover the bleed. Apparently, people who undergo a craniotomy and have tumors removed from their brains shouldn’t enter the octagon less than three weeks post-surgery.

I wasn’t able to ride in the ambulance with Tag. I’d had to stay with Millie and Henry. We’d fought our way through the crowd as quickly as we could, which hadn’t been easy, and then sped to the hospital, arriving a good twenty minutes after Tag had been rushed through the emergency room doors. I’d told the nurse at the desk everything I knew, everything Tag had confessed in his tapes, and asked her to please relay it to those caring for my friend. She’d given me a look like she thought I was high and dangerous, peering at me over the tops of her little glasses and pressing her fat chin into her chest in bafflement. She listened and then stood, exiting through swishing doors where Millie and Henry and I weren’t allowed to follow.