BY LUKE JOHNSON | Staff writer
The big speakers on the black, rubberized floor thumped and Zach Wood emptied the tank throwing a flurry of fists at the two targets that took a beating and kept coming back for more.
“Yes!” shouted Keith Director over the din of the mid-aughts rap playlist, “That’s what I want!”
There was 20 seconds left. ... then 10.
Director pushed the pace while Wood, the New Orleans Saints' long snapper, grimaced and kept up. Pop, pop, pop — Director replacing the mitt in front of Wood’s face every time he’d knock one down, like a game of Whack-a-Mole, but the whacker is drenched in sweat and...