But then the program reasserted itself.
After four minutes and thirty-nine seconds of relentless, world-class brutality, the referee stepped between them. Mark Kerr stood up, his knuckles bruised, his chest heaving. He looked down at Yamamoto, who lay on his back, blinking at the lights, refusing to let the tears of frustration fall. mark kerr vs yoshihisa yamamoto
Across the ring, bouncing on the balls of his feet, was Yoshihisa Yamamoto. The disparity was almost comical. Yamamoto, "The Cannonball," was a fireplug of a man—5’7”, barely 200 pounds. He looked like a middleweight who had gotten lost on his way to the dojo. Where Kerr was the grim reaper of the mat, Yamamoto was a shock of electricity. He was a master of judo and sambo, but his true gift was a kind of reckless, beautiful courage. He had no business in the same cage as Mark Kerr. And that was precisely why the Japanese fans adored him. But then the program reasserted itself