Contending With Life

"He fought Holyfield in 1990," Susie explains.

"So he just wanted to say hello to him. They fought. He was ninth in the world."

McDonagh takes out the photo.

"Son of a gun," someone says. "No kidding."

"He was ninth in the world," Susie says again.

"I'm sorry," Bob says, "what's your name?"

"Seamus McDonagh," he says, "I have a shoeshine concession ..."

"How'd you do, by the way?" Bob asks. "Looks like you did fairly well in this picture."

"He lasted four rounds with me," says McDonagh, smiling, and everyone laughs, and a minute later he's next to the stage. Bob walks up to Holyfield and leans in to talk to him.

"Seamus," Evander mouths, and he scans the area, then claps eyes on McDonagh. "Seamus!" he says, grinning and pointing.

McDonagh takes the stage, and they hug. He shows Holyfield the photo, and they laugh. He takes out the T-shirt, and they freeze for a souvenir photo, both holding the shirt. McDonagh's print from the fight is tucked into his arm. It makes for a funny picture. Three photos are in the frame: three McDonaghs; three Holyfields. They're snarling on the T-shirt; they're fighting in the print; and in this one they're side by side, both flashing big, stupid smiles.

"That," someone says, "is cool."

Then it's over, and McDonagh steps down from the stage. He's glowing. Susie's glowing. McDonagh shakes Bob's hand, thanks him twice, and takes his business card. He and Susie head for the exit.

"What'd he say?" she asks, still grinning.

McDonagh gestures at the 8-by-10. ""Oh, but I got you after that.'"

"Did you tell him you worked at the shoeshine here?"

"I ... yeah ... he, well, uh." He's thrown off a little. Then he shows her Bob's card, as if in answer. Shoeshining keeps you moving. "They might wanna work with us."