"I lie here paralytic inside this soul. Screaming for you 'til my throat is numb."

Josh sighs as he begins to reminisce, thinking aloud to himself.

"Oh, the dog days of summer. In the mid-nineties I would spend virtually every day of the summer at Cantine Field in my then hometown of Saugerties, New York. Especially on the weekends. My dad would be up in the press box of the main baseball field- for which the park is named- and I would sit in the stands to watch our town's semi-pro baseball team, the Saugerties Dutchmen.

It was a simple joy, as most childhood joys are. Free baseball games in a public park, being played by guys who were there because they probably weren't good enough for a professional team. Although in 1997 there was an unsuccessful two start stint by former Yankees pitcher Jim Bouton- at 56 years old. Anyway, the Dutchmen season would typically begin in late May and finish at the end of July. They would often play a doubleheader on Saturday or Sunday, with other games sprinkled across the rest of the week. Less than 40 games a year, but I loved every one of them.

You know even a weekly newspaper is small town and small time when the efforts of the town's amateur baseball team garners a spot in the sports section, I suppose. But that was what my father did, and what he loved. As a sports writer he covered them, along with every sports team at the high school. I've never been happier than when I I went to the games he was covering. High school baseball, basketball, football, soccer, and even wrestling tournaments."

Konnely appears to snap suddenly out of his memory and notice the camera for the first time, bringing him back to reality.

"I have already forgotten what my point was here, to be honest with you. I guess I am just trying to remember a time in my life when I was truly happy. It can be hard in the wake of tragedy after tragedy to find your smile again. I know nothing about my opponent for Titans this week, but I am guessing that Anonymia knows the feeling of losing his smile. Hell, he apparently even lost his ability to speak, so he must have lost his smile at some point.

It's funny that I use the pronoun 'his,' because until earlier today I was not even clear on Anonymia's gender. Frankly, it sounds like it would be a girl's name if it were to be a name at all. Until I saw him in his own prison in his mind, I could not begin to decipher the mystery of Anonymia's sex.

Anonymia mentioned assessing foes, so why don't we assess Anonymia? The Latin word anonymia gives us the English word anonymity, both of which stem from the Greek root anonumia. So the question is this: who is Anonymia? By definition this is a question which cannot be answered. He is anonymous. He hides his face behind a mask. Presumably he is originally from England or the United Kingdom somewhere, since his mask bears the Union Jack. But just Englishman is a pretty vague description of a man, and not a very favorable one, if I do say so myself.

While London burns at the hands of rioters, Anonymia and I will wage a war of our own here in Budapest. You know, I find it a little strange. A little ironic. Even a little funny. England condemns the United States for going to war with the Taliban in Afghanistan as a response to the September 11 attacks, but one civilian gets shot and killed by British police and this is how the normally good people of England respond? Three cities have to burn to the ground because one man got shot? That is an extremely irrational and excessive response if you ask me.

How many more people have been hurt? How many more people have been killed? How many others are now homeless because of the destroyed properties? All because the police shot a suspected gang member and drug dealer? Even if we assume complete innocence in the cocaine allegations, and even if we assume that he was not carrying a weapon when he was shot, pretty much going to war with police because this one man was shot- in all fairness and reality- is an absurd overreaction."

"Whether it is one man or dozen that the police shot, these riots seem far too much. Anonymia, looking at London today- as it is now Tuesday morning in London and here in Budapest, just after 11 PM Monday night in New York- I believe that you are the last Brit who belongs in any prison right now, be it imaginary or real. Today you look sane compared to the rest of your countrymen. At least I sure hope you are. I wouldn't want you to throw a petrol bomb and light me on fire right in the middle of the ring after I defeat you on Titans. That would be entirely uncalled for and extreme behavior on your part.

Perhaps my assessment of the London riots is a bit harsh in and of itself, but it has been said that perception is nine-tenths of the law. As a foreigner on the outside looking in, this situation looks as though an entire nation has gone completely and perhaps irreversibly insane. Anonymia might not even be from London, or even the nation of England, but that Union Jack mask is just about the only thing I have to on here. And right now the English people- albeit a very small minority- are making themselves look like a bunch of Union Jackasses.

What do you think, Anonymia?"

Josh stands up and turns around so that he is facing the cage. Clutching the walls of the cage, Konnely presses his face against it. He continues, soft and slow.

"But enough about the riots. I've beaten that horse to death and beyond. Anonymia, I just might have your cure. The cure for Anonymia. On Titans I will choke you out and I will make you famous."

Josh grins.

"Aren't I a riot?" he says with a chuckle.

"Cure for Anonymia... it's a pun on cure for pneumonia. Pneumonia, like Anonymia, comes from the Greek language. The word pneuma in ancient Greek means breath. Hence pneumonia, a pulmonary disease. A disease of the lungs and of the breath.

Once again I have lost sight of my own point, but the bottom line of this tangent is that tonight I will squeeze the very pneuma out of Anonymia. He will succumb to the Beautiful Light, and Robyn Byrne will announce your winner Josh Konnely. Hope you are ready for a fight, Anonymia. 'Cuz The Light Knight is going to bring it."

"Awake And Alive" by Skillet plays as Josh Konnely scales the cage and exits the octagon over the top. The scene fades to white.