I want to see Tito. Just a glimpse of his face. The one I've seen on TV, the boyish features fronted by the cocksure smile.

Now that Felix "Tito" Trinidad has lost for the first time in his career -- a shocking pummeling by Bernard Hopkins that ended with a 12th-round TKO -- I need to see that face again. More than anything, a frown from Tito (or a fat lip) would assure me that what I'd just seen had actually happened.

Because minutes earlier, the scene at Madison Square Garden was surreal. Tito hitting the canvas after a nasty Hopkins right. Tito's dad (and corner man) bounding into the ring to stop the fight. Hopkins, seeing Tito grabbing the ropes like a wino reaching for the subway railing, hitting the canvas himself, arms outstretched in giddy exhaustion. The thousands of Puerto Ricans in The Garden, drowned out by the chants from legions of just-converted Hopkins fans.

Now, everyone in the press room is clamoring for the fighters, ignoring everything else. Heavyweight champ Hasim Rahman loiters nearby, picking some cantaloupe from an hours-old food spread. Evander Holyfield leans against a wall, talking with a friend. (Did you know his ear still has a little divot in it? Hey, I couldn't help looking.)

The only person conducting business as usual is Don King. The mega-promoter is on his way over to the press conference, but he stops every few steps to yap in the direction of a TV camera. King's the only man in the world who holds a press conference to announce that he's heading over to the press conference.

King's in the middle of talking about something or other when a Trinidad rep says Tito won't be doing any interviews. Something about having a 7 a.m. flight out of Newark tomorrow. To which the arriving Hopkins responds, "He ain't got the respect to be here, but his belt is."

With no chance of seeing the fallen champ, I head out. It's well after 2 a.m., and I'm waiting for the elevator when a Garden employee's walkie-talkie crackles. "We have to clear the area ... it's getting late," says one voice. "I'd like to," comes the reply, "but King's still talking."

E-mail andrew.latack@espnmag.com.