They're wolves.
"He has to go easy, now, an' I ain't a-forcin' him none.

I'm all shot to pieces.

I don't know what to do.

So I slow down, an' the fans get hep to it.

'Why don't you fight ?' they begin to yell; 'Fake! Fake!' 'Why don't you kiss'm ?' 'Lovin' cup for yours, Bill Roberts!' an' that sort of bunk.
"'Fight!' says The referee to me, low an' savage.