If the hands are the mirror of the heart, the eyes are the windows of the soul and the face is the index of the mind, the elbow must be the meat cleaver of the upper body.

The lights are blinding, and hundreds of screaming people surround you on each side, through the noise you desperately try to pick out instructions your coach is bellowing from your corner.

Your opponent's elbow comes slicing downward out of nowhere and crunches through the skin on your forehead, your ears ring, and the blood curtains down your face. These are the effects of fighting in the ring.