Yes!

It's an impulsive and reckless decision, and one which might end up costing you a few teeth if you're not careful... but it's been years since you did anything impulsive and reckless! The only drawback is the city watchman, who might recognize you - but, he doesn't seem to be really watching the fight, just keeping one eye on the ring so he can step in if he must. And so, you pull off your cloak and shirt, dropping them over the top of your swordbelt and moneybag; you have a moment's hesitation about leaving these valuables in the dirt, but you see that standing close by is a man in priestly robes, and he gives you a nod of reassurance. His presence is likely deterrent enough to any thief.

You step over the ropes and make your way into the ring to great cheers from the crowd, loosening up your shoulders and taking a measure of the man you'll be facing. He's certainly big, but perhaps not as strong as he might appear; a good part of his bulk is a softening layer of fat, while your own physique is more defined (a life as a blacksmith made you strong, and you've done your best not to let yourself go soft on the throne). The man seems to see that you may not be the pushover he thought at first, and though he still smiles, it turns a bit grim.

"Any rules here?" you ask.

"It's simple enough," he says. "We fight fair, no dirty tricks. No throwing fists or feet; we're here to wrestle, not beat on each other. The winner is the one who doesn't yield! That sit with you all right?"

"Bring it on," you reply, giving him a smile of your own. You drop into a stance which was taught to you by the Kingsguard; feet placed well apart, one arm extended and held downwards, the other curved over your head. Of course, their training involved you fighting for your life, not fighting for sport, so you'll have to refrain from the more lethal moves you learned!

"You here to fight or dance?" the big man asks, guffawing loudly. He tosses the empty waterskin aside and shuffles forward, shoulders hunched; he looks rather like Bwana M'Kubwa's description of the huge apes which live near his people.

You circle around, keeping at the opposite side of the ring, waiting for him to make the first move. He closes in, but slowly; he's too experienced to simply charge at you, and while he poked fun at your fighting stance, he clearly sees that you know what you're doing. If you think I'm going to charge you, you're crazy, you think to yourself.

He makes his move then - not too fast or forceful, he seems to want to guage your reaction. His big hands reach out to get a hold of your outstretched arms, but you're able to twist and push him around to the side - he doesn't fall over, but he stumbles just a bit. Before you can capitalize on his momentary loss of balance, he wrenches himself upright and turns to face you again.

The momentary contact has taught you one thing; he's top-heavy. While his chest and arms are bulky and huge, his legs are comparatively less so. You've already seen the results of his bear-hug, and while you could certainly last longer than his previous opponent did, there's no doubt that if he gets those arms around you, you'll be done.

That's all the time you have to think before he comes at you again. This time, he gets a hand through your guard onto your shoulder, and the crowd cheers as the match is truly joined. Rather than try to toss off his grip, you match it by grabbing his shoulders, and the two of you push at each other; he outweighs you, but as you suspected, his legs don't have the raw strength of his upper body. You flex your knees and push upwards against him, and he stumbles back before he is able to sweep you around and push away, separating from you once again.

"Took all morning, but I've finally got someone in this ring who's worth the effort!" he crows happily, then motions with both hands for you to come at him. "Come on, Dancer... let's RUMBLE!"