Unity in MMA
When I first started Brazilian Jiu Jitsu/MMA Standup, I threw myself into it and devoted every evening of my life to the gym. What started out as a way to pass time has turned into something more than a passion. It’s not a hobby. A hobby is something you enjoy doing every now and again that you enjoy. This… is something completely different.
I hate the sport as much as I love it. It confuses me, I get beat up, the gym stinks, my gloves smell, half of my clothes are used to train in, I get in late, the way I eat revolves around training, in short – it full blown stresses me out.
But it’s the only thing I’ve ever been half decent at and THAT’S what I share in common with everybody else in the gym.
If you’ve bothered to read the ‘About Your Author’ page you’ll catch on that I never excelled at anything. I’m not well read, good looking or particularly smart. My parents are working class and emigrated from Hong Kong some 40 years ago. They moved to Manchester and started doing what they knew, my dad became a cook (not a chef, a cook – the difference being he never worked in a 5 star establishment or wore a clean white uniform, he worked in a grease filled kitchen for minimum wage doing stupid hours in Chinatown) and my mum became a waitress but would quit to become a seamstress only to return to waitressing.
My siblings and I were raised by my grandma who isn’t my real grandma but she is and later on my cousins would move into our house making it 9 people in a house with 3 bedrooms. From there we moved into a takeaway where I started helping my parents out by answering the telephone and taking orders, fetching buckets of chips, peeling prawns and the normal stuff an 8 year old did to have fun. When I was 11 maybe 12, we moved to Padiham which, if you forget about the racism and general scummery of the place, was a pretty sweet place to grow up. You had fields everywhere. A disused railway track and backstreets where kids would play football/drink/smoke until all hours.
Anyway, in Padiham I spent a few hours a day, 6 days a week helping the parents run the shop. I didn’t do much to be honest – all I remember is not being able to go out with my friends and having to serve customers, peel potatoes, sort out general frying foods and it wasn’t the most well paying of jobs. Plus I stunk of oil constantly. On top of that, being the only Chinese guy in the school didn’t exactly help with the bullying problem/beatings in school OR the fact we got stick for it when I got home. Windows got put through 7 times in a few weeks, my sister got chased down the street, my mum got spat on, dad almost got attacked… what a great place.
So now 8 years in from that hell hole, I’m back in Manchester and I’ve found somewhere where none of that matters. Where my skin colour, social status, yearly earnings, criminal record and bad habits aren’t taken into consideration. All that matters is that I work my balls off and graft. And everybody does the same in those short number of hours every day.We forget about our problems and fight.
And that’s why I do what I do. It’s not the norm but I don’t care. It’s my second home. Somewhere where I can be myself. Which is why I stress when I’m away from it.
Welcome to Bassline
The explosion of niche/bassline back in 2002 propelled anything over 100 beats-per-minute into the chart and until recently I could never see the attraction (I say recently, I mean 2008). I could never get my head around dance, trance or even dubstep but with niche/bassline it was easier. More so in the last 6 months.
Watching TV, I discovered the Street Nation CD and listen to it almost religiously every day. One of the main tracks that still brings a smile to my face is Laurent Wolf’s 2008 single, ‘No Stress’. I didn’t pay any mind to it until I was on my way to work, pissed off, half asleep when the lyrics and ridiculous beat raped mind via my ears…
Losing the light…
What happens when it’s gone? Do you search for a new light or hold onto hope that the old, perfect light returns?
The beginning of the end.
I forget sometimes…
…that life can be pretty sweet. Life before Thailand was mediocre at best, Thailand was OK and initially, being at home really sucked but now… not too shabby at all.
SBG Iceland’s Arni Isaksson fought Luis Dutre Jr back in November 2009 at the Liverpool Olympia. The best fight I have ever seen live and I will always remember.
Arni the day after
Arni is a great guy, very down to earth and is so funny at the weirdest times. A complete workhorse who will grind out anybody in the gym and can hit like a train. Beating UFC fighters Dennis Siver and Jeff Cox in a welterweight 8 man tournament back in 2006, Arni is definitely one to watch.
Training regularly with BJJ and MMA prodigy, Gunnar Nelson, Arni’s game can only improve. Having recently been awarded his purple belt, I can only see good things for Arni.
Highlights
Joining the Revolution
Adamant that I wasn’t going to be jumping on the bandwagon, I went and did it anyway. This revolution stuff sucks.
Doubt at a time of Positivity
Image from becheap.files.wordpress.com
Is it wrong to be pessimistic at a time when you should be happy?
What if that pessimism affects your ability to make decisions?
Is it pessimism if you’re sure you’re right?
Touchdown in good ol’ Britain
I was promised snow by numerous people for when I got back into the UK but upon my arrival, was greeted with stone cold weather and a harsh Scouse accent. I was picked up 40 minutes late by my ever so trustworthy taxi driving neighbour and the next day whilst on the way to the gym I found it. Snow. And what a sight it was:
Snow... bliss.
I left Phuket at 4am, a mere 8 hours after my fight (which can be found here) and spent 2 days/1 night in the wonderfu*cough* city of Bangkok. I’m 100% sure that Bangkok is a great city with wonderful sights but I was only faced to experience the latter. I was grateful that I blended in quite well as I was dressed casually like I would have been in Manchester and with Bangkok being more Westernised than Phuket, it suited.
After some quick questions, directed towards the staff at my ever so friendly hotel the Grand Pinnacle; which for 1000 baht a night you get a nice room, free wifi, hot shower, free airport transit AND breakfast – I made my way to Lumpinee Stadium which was a just short of an hour away by taxi, train then walking.
I was a little disappointed to find Lumpinee located on no more than a backstreet. I had visions of the stadium being surrounded and faced by modern buildings, shops and hotels with lights shining up at it. After all, it IS Lumpinee.
SBG does Lumpinee Stadium... with a frown
My last day consisted of running around finding a place to get a tattoo which I found at Wat Tong Nai under the great work of Ajarn Thoy/Por Gae Ruesi Tha Fai. After 20 minutes or maybe a little longer of prayers, chanting and needle prodding, this was the end result. And yes, it hurt.
Please ignore the mosquito bites
I finished up, took a taxi back to the hotel, ate my final meal and was on my way to the aiport. A quick lie to the lady checking me in and I was moved from window to aisle, more legroom and behind the partition. I spent 10 hours in Abu Dhabi airport, 4 hours under a Xanax induced coma and the rest wandering around trying to find food. I arrived back to the UK and I find it cold and horrible.
I need saving.
SBG does Lumpini Park
0-1-1 in Thailand
So after what people told me was a ‘great fight’ and that I was ‘winning the fight all the way’, the bout was stopped midway through the 3rd and final round.
Scott dropped me with a hard right body kick which made me take a knee and get up on the 6 count but the referee called it off. A few people afterwards approached me and told me the fight shouldnt have been stopped as I got up and wanted to carry on but after giving it a couple of hours – my ribs are well and truly done. Im restricted in my movement side to side and Im struggling to tense my core. I’ve taken 2 strong Ibuprofen along with alternative heat/ice and I still feel like I want to vomit.
I’ve watched the video back and it looked like a good fight but you are your worst critic, more work could have been done on my behalf and I should have listened to my corner. Taking Ray Elbe’s advice, I scored 2 big knees during the fight and should have continued to throw them but didnt. I should have circled away from his right leg but didnt. I should have been more aggressive but wasnt and I should have fired the right hand when he dropped his guard but it didnt happen.
My warm up was fine if not a little longer than expected. Thai people always have a different concept of time and I fought 20 minutes later than I was advised but no harm done. It’s all experience and Paule Marchant from Peacock Gym in London did a great job in helping me warm up pad wise and Des was great in carting me around afterwards looking for pain relief!
All in all, a good night, a lesson learned and I take a loss in Thailand.
T Minus 120 minutes
As I lie down in my oversized bed, the buzz in my stomach and the increased heart rate stops me from getting any sort of last minute rest before I step in. Since 10am the buzz hasnt disappeared, it merely gets stronger and stronger and I know I should be embracing it rather than fighting it off, it’s not the first time I’ve had it and I guarantee it wont be the last.
Every scenario, gameplan and technique runs through my head but I shrug it off – I know nothing about this guy and vice versa. He’s a couple of kilos heavier and his hands look decent when I saw him on the bag but anyone can hit a bag. I look like Roy Jones on a bag but the reality is different. “It’s not about how hard you can hit, it’s about how hard you can GET hit and keep going” and I’ve been hit hard plenty of times. I train and spar with some of the best people in the UK, I know my strengths and I know my weaknesses better than anybody else. No stranger can beat me at what I’m good at.
Negative thoughts flow through my head, I have no team mates here. I have friends I’ve made along the way but nobody who really knows me. My brother isn’t here to offer me any last minute advice, Karl isn’t here to shout A class instructions, Garvey isn’t here to put my mind at ease, Anna isn;t here to make me laugh and Inman isn’t here to remind me without speaking that I can hang with people. “Winning is good, losing is bad”. I ran through a trial warm up last night at 7.30pm which is around the time I’ll be throwing down… it took me 20 minutes or so to peak. Static to Dynamics, showdowboxing, loose padwork and more static to dynamics.
No new techniques here, I have the tools… I just need to use them like I normally do.
As I wait for 7pm to approach so I can drink my coffee and get some fast acting carbs I think: Fundamentals. A straight line beats a curve every time without fail. No peacock. Chin down, hands up. Jab at distance and hook in range. Uppercut when he ducks his head down. Parry the jab and come over the top. Give him something to think about. Never let him settle. Accelerate.
Sundays in Thailand
Sunday, or at least every morning…
And in the evening?
