As the bell rang at the end the first round, John Panos from Sigma Pi returned to his corner. He had water poured on his skin and in his mouth as one member of the medical team took a quick look at him. He had been hit too many times.
The fighters returned to the center of the ring, and the crowd still cheered “Panos.” They applauded and chanted, but it wouldn’t be enough. Panos was struck on his arm, and his facial expression changed completely. The audience cringed.
The fight at Sigma Pi’s annual "Last Man Standing," a philanthropic boxing event where men and women from different greek organizations are paired and trained to fight, was Friday. Half of the proceeds goes to the Warehouse, a local nonprofit and recreational center, and the other half goes to the American Cancer Society.
Panos said he wanted to experience something new, wanted to see what boxers go through and get a glimpse of the pain cancer patients endure through his training. That's why he joined the fight.
“This was definitely one of the bigger goals of my college career,” Panos said. “If your goals don’t scare you, then they are not big enough.”
Panos said his training was about more than himself because he would represent his fraternity and honor his fraternity brothers, Joseph Smedley and Nicolas Smith, who died within the last two years.
Two days before the fight, Panos paced in the lounge area of the Sigma Pi house on North Jordan. He was wearing a blue print dress shirt, black dress pants and a gold chain. He was getting ready to face his opponent.
There was a stage with a projector screen, a banner with the sponsors on it, and a reserved seating section just below it. The fight was only 48 hours away, and Panos said he did not know how to feel.
“It’ll hit you Friday,” one of his fraternity brothers said.
Panos laughed and agreed.
As people piled into the lounge area and began to gather outside, the music started. It was A$AP Rocky blasting through the speakers.
“Are you guys ready?” the announcer Nicole Krasean, an IU journalism student and former Indiana Daily Student editor, said.
The cheering crowd, mostly the Sigma Pi brothers, stomped on the deck, barked and growled.
Krasean announced the first fighter, Dwight Hall, of Fiji. The crowd booed him because of who he would be fighting, John Panos.
Panos was brought from the lounge on a wooden chair by three of his brothers. The crowd roared as he approached the stage. He got out of his chair and walked up the few steps to the stage.
Hall and Panos were asked to describe each other in three words. Panos' fraternity brothers drowned out the Fiji with their disapproval as he listed his three adjectives.
Then it was Panos’ turn.
“Tall, lanky, Fiji,” Panos said to a chaotic response from the audience.
At 5:45 p.m. Friday evening, before Panos had stepped into the ring, he walked around the open floor space of the Warehouse in a black tank top, shorts and socks with red wireless headphones around his neck.
The ring was in the center of the room with a VIP section forming a circular shape around it with orange and white barricade blocks. Before the guests arrived, Panos talked to his brothers and the Warehouse staff to make sure everything was ready for the fight.
“Hell yeah," Panos said. "I’m ready to roll."
He kept his statements to the point as he moved between his locker room and the main room.
After acknowledgments and the national anthem, it was time for the first fight. It would be Panos and Hall — Sigma Pi versus Fiji.
The arena became loud as people pounded tables, stood on chairs and screamed at the top of their lungs with the color of their faces matching the purple tint of their Fiji shirts.
It was not long until Hall was sitting disappointed on the side of the ring. He sat down to watch the next fight after his ended abruptly.
“It’s kinda sad how it ended,” Hall said. “It’s not how I wanted it to end.”
With his longer arms, Hall had better reach and made a lot of contact with Panos’ face and body. This frustrated Panos, he said. He jumped up and down, rolled his shoulders and smacked himself in the face to get back in the game, but the fight didn't go in his favor.
His shoulder had popped out. The referee stopped the fight.
Medical staff rushed to check on Panos. The fight was over. Panos was yelling and crying in pain, and his face was red as the man in scrubs took care of him. He had lost in a minute and a half.
Panos said he knew his shoulder would pop out because it had happened twice before in the last six months. However, he said he got himself fired up anyway and fought because it was about more than him. At one point he said he was in so much pain that he couldn’t think of anything or anyone else other than Smith and Smedley.
“I think they are the reasons I kept going,” Panos said. “They both lived up to the warrior definition. This was my way to show that it’s not about you but others.”
He said the pain was unbearable even after having his shoulder put in place, but he said it was worth it.
His parents drove him to the emergency room, leaving the ring and the rest of the fighting behind them.
At the end of the day his fraternity raised around $30,000 and had around 2,000 people attend to raise money for those with cancer.
“I was close to calling it and throwing in the towel,” Panos said. “People with cancer don’t throw in the towel. They keep going.”
