He heard the Battler's seconds shout to their man to "tear into" him.
He felt the Battler's strength in that clinch and he realized it was more than his.
He shot up his right and it pounded into the Battler's ribs.
The Battler feinted, swaying his body from side to side, and came at him.
His body reeled as the Battler pounded him, his head, his face, his back.
They carried him to his corner, the Battler on one side, the referee on the other.
I, despite my birth and lineage, am a battler for the truth.
The fellow with the canker at his heart is not the battler but the envious shirker who is too "proud" to risk a fall.
The Battler moved his gloves in quick little circles and the noise from the crowd stopped.
His fist struck only the air and the Battler, his lips drawn back, his eyes blazing, crashed into him.