We don't count.

We've sold ourselves for a hundred bucks, an' we gotta deliver the goods.
"Let me tell you, Saxon, honest to God, that was one of the times I wanted to go through the ropes an' drop them fans a-yellin' for blood an' show 'em what blood is.
"'For God's sake finish me, Bill,' Bill says to me in that clinch; 'put her over an' I'll fall for it, but I can't lay down.' "D'ye want to know?
I cry there, right in the ring, in that clinch.

The weeps for me.

'I can't do it, Bill,' I whisper back, hangin' onto'm like a brother an' the referee ragin' an' draggin' at us to get us apart, an' all the wolves in the house snarlin'.
"'You got 'm!' the audience is yellin'.

'Go in an' finish 'm!' 'The hay for him, Bill; put her across to the jaw an' see 'm fall!' "'You got to, Bill, or you're a dog,' Bill says, lookin' love at me in his eyes as the referee's grip untangles us clear.
"An' them wolves of fans yellin': 'Fake! Fake! Fake!' like that, an' keepin' it up.
"Well, I done it.