then made the official announcements for the start of the fights. Just like that, the first match was over, and I had no idea when it even started. My opponent had these big bamboo-style drums that he would bang on instead of the traditional Thai music. “Great, the guy not only looks like Rob Zombie on steroids but he’s also some Amazonian,” I chuckled to the guys. But, I was hoping that he was wasting needed energy for the fight and that it would work in my favor as he beat the drums mercilessly.
The third fight showcased my novice friends. As our coaches were not present, the leftover Suffer System guys went to the corner. I helped get the gloves on him and reiterated “Stay calm and kick ass bro; it’s all you,” as he pumped himself up in his corner. The fight started, and they went at each other like wild animals. Both being lightweights at 150 pounds, they had plenty of energy to burn. It seemed as if all technique went out the window and all that remained were wild round hooks and overhands. It was an old style barn-burner to say the least, and once the first three-minute round had concluded, both practitioners were drained of energy.
When he came to the corner we gave him water, asked if he was all right, and tried giving him a strategy as best as we could. I was telling him to circle right, away from the power hand as he got tagged hard a couple times. My other training partner was telling him to throw more kicks and so on. Again, I told him, “Remember, it’s all you in there,” in a stern voice to get him to focus.
The second round started wild and fast, as our teammate landed a nice “superman” punch that I had been the recipient of the week before in sparring. In that split second, I started yelling “Superman! Do the superman, it works!” And a second later, he landed a perfect superman punch, rocking his opponent.
The third round seemed to mirror the second, and our corner was sure he had the win. It was up to the judges now, and there was no way that the combatants could sway it the other way. I was right; our club got the first win that day, and it was a great feeling, especially having been in his corner.
The fights came and went, and the pro fights had already started; I was still waiting. I made my way over to the jiu-jitsu room to stretch and get my head ready for what was to come. I was warmed up, so, doing some stretches, I went over scenarios in my mind— visualizing the entire fight. According to the board, my turn was next, so I put my mp3 player on with my usual song list to get pumped. To my surprise, they did not call us up, but instead called the demo fight that was supposed to be after us. They had their two best guys, who were champions, demonstrate an MMA demo match for the crowd.
They finished with everyone clapping, and through my mp3 player I could hear my name called, saying that I was from some club other than Suffer System, an error on their part, I guessed. So, I made my way to the ring with my hands already wrapped up, I bounced back and forth on my toes as I proceeded to the ring, amazed at the ovation I received. To tell you the truth, it was quite nice, and it helped get the adrenaline pumping.
I maneuvered my way into the ring and my teammates put on my gloves which were disgusting in the sense that they had been the same gloves used by everyone else before me in the red corner. By the time I had them on, they had a foul odor and were drenched with everyone’s sweat. My opponent was already in the ring too, and he was all ready to go as the referee called us into the middle of the square ring.
Something wasn’t right, but I could not put my finger on it. I glanced at my opponent and saw that he was wearing his headgear, while I was not. No one gave my corner the headgear, and to add to that, my inexperienced corner thought nothing of it! It was a disaster, and at least the referee called for the headgear as I saw a couple guys at the edge of the gym scramble for it. I had a good three to four minutes of waiting, which worked against me since my mental edge was slowly dissipating while I stood in the corner waiting. My muscles were slowly cooling down, so I started bouncing around, wasting more energy. They finally got the headgear into the ring, my corner helped put it on, and it was time to touch gloves and go to war.
I do not remember my corner saying anything during the beginning of the fight, as I was so focused on what was happening inside the ring, but toward the end of the round as I loosened up, things seemed to be right. The rest is history as you already know, (see Chapter 1), and I have been asked on numerous occasions if I would have changed anything even though I was put there as a lamb for the slaughter. No, I wouldn’t, and I think I learned a lot about fighting that day—but more so about myself.
After the fight, when both of our hands were raised in a draw, my corner made me feel better. I had finally done it. Regardless of the outcome, I had gone into a rough sport, and held my own, in a way. I did not get hurt, used some of the things I practiced so many times, and showed my heart. I had established a base from which now I could build upon, to which I could better myself and be better prepared for the other times to come. It is pleasurable to prove who is the better man and to experience the primitive instincts in the ring or cage, with the only the basic tools that we are given—our “eight limbs.” In the back of his mind, the winner knows that, if this had been a dark alleyway, he could have ended the other.
Once the emotions were settled after the fight, which included happiness, nervousness, relief, and a sense of accomplishment all rolled up into a tight ball, I was on the outside of the ring where Beata was wiping the sweat off my face and body. Walking around the club to gather myself, I saw one of the club champions that did the fight demo. He shook my hand and congratulated me on the fight. “Thanks, but I could have done better, and may I add that he kicks like a mule.” I chuckled, but he quickly remarked “No, no, you did really well, you showed heart kid, I know Jason [my opponent] has crazy power in his kicks, he makes the big Thai bags sway!” I looked with open eyes thinking to myself, either he’s trying to make me feel better or maybe he saw something, but either way my heart swelled, and it was just what I needed.
I was sore for a couple of days, but nothing serious. I was walking perfectly fine, I had no bumps or bruises, and I gained a lot of experience. Most of all, I realized that this game is tough and you have to really work hard and put your heart, sweat, and tears into training if you want results. I learned that I have heart, that no matter how hard I get hit, how hard it gets to breath, that I do not quit, that the four-letter word does not exist in my vocabulary.
As the weeks passed, I had less time and will to practice, and rumors were circulating that Milton was looking to sell the gym. With the factory life taking its toll on me and just taking more time to be with Beata, I had months on end of no training, except for some strength and conditioning in my garage.
I had picked up a squat rack with an Olympic bar for a good price, to add to my punching bag, free weights, and pulley system. The truth is that I was doing routines better suited for bodybuilders—not conditioned MMA athletes. Doing signature curls, benching, and squats for the typical six to eight reps with long rest times made me feel good but was not doing very much for my MMA conditioning, particularly because I always had a hard time with cardio training. I came to understand that there was a big gap I had to fill when it came to my strength and conditioning program. Little did I know that it would fall into my lap in the near future.
I would later learn from famous IFBB pro bodybuilder Scott Milne—owner of Pump’d Supplements London Ontario, and a complete hulk of a man who competed at the peak, weighing 302 lbs shredded—that my nutrition knowledge was lacking as well. He empowered me with some great advice years later that I wish I could have absorbed much earlier, rather than running my body and immune system into the ground due to lack of proper replenishment.
In regards to recovery and performance, he taught me that “the big thing is making sure your protein levels are high—without protein you cannot repair. What a lot of people—especially for MMA guys—forget about is all of their amino acids. They could really stand to take certain aminos before they train, such as creatine hydrochloride for increasing strength and athletic performance, and beta-alanine, which buffers lactic acid so you can train longer and harder without getting fatigued. Also, arginine, which dilates your blood vessels so you transport more oxygen and nutrients to get a better pump. Afterwards is the recovery portion, requiring loads of amino acids; glutamine is the main one for muscle recovery and repair. All of those aminos can help one perform longer and harder, and to recover in order to train again sooner. Without that