Fight 1.

I climbed into the ring bowed to the four sides and waited for my opponent. He leapt over the top of the ropes and faced me with a big grin on his face. He was bigger than me and he knew it. I tried not to think about it, we performed the Ram Muay and at the finish of his he fired an imaginary arrow at my corner, I slipped it. I turned to my corner, Taywin looked at me and said “dont worry” so I should be worried then I thought.

Ding!

We touched gloves, BANG he kicked me high on my left side I blocked it before I had even registered it happening. He smiled wide, this guy was cocky. After that I don’t remember much in terms of the chain of events. I know I was getting frustrated I was unsteady, when I kicked it wasn’t fluid, it was uncoordinated and jerky and left me off balance, he countered frequently with big right kicks high into my guard, none got through but I wasn’t being aggressive or answering his attacks, I couldn’t get settled, I was focusing too much on defending his attacks, and throwing myself of balance when I did counter, he didn’t seem to be having the same problem, he was comfortable, he was dictating the pace. Somewhere he tried a jumping elbow or knee I don’t know which either way it didn’t land and he ended up on his arse. The round ended, I wasn’t buzzed, my blood wasn’t rushing, my breathing was steady, what was wrong with me.

The week before the fight I wondered when my nerves would kick in I waited, not the last training session, not an hour before leaving for the stadium, not getting my hands taped, not when I entered the ring. They never did. I wanted them to come, I needed something to get me going, to wake me up. “Lef kick Alex, lef kick, not right left kick, what are you waiting for” Taywin said as I sat waiting for the next round to start.

Ding!

It started out similar to the first, he grinned, he show boated, he pointed to his elbows. I couldn’t get settled, I was nervous, he knew it. I caught him a few times across the ribs and in the leg with my left kick, he returned the favor. He tried a Saenchai style kartwheel kick and ended up on his arse again, I gave him proops, I shouldn’t have. I still wasn’t settled, what was wrong with me, I was thinking too much about what I was doing, what I was going to do, what I wasn’t doing, what he was doing. Why couldn’t I just do what I had trained to do. By the end of the roundI was slowly starting to get my timing down, I could see his kicks coming and push kicked him before he could get them off.  The round ended, I wasn’t feeling hurt, I wasn’t feeling nerves, no heavy breathing, no thumping heart rate. “Alex what are you doing this isn’t a game, get serious, Get Serious!” said Taywin objectively, “why you kick like that Alex, whats wrong with you, you not train like that” said Den with frustration, I don’t remember what I said, I don’t know if I said anything. I was pissed off.

Ding!

We touched gloves, immediately he grabbed me into a clinch, he had nothing in him, I threw him to the ground easily. He got back up and we went at it again. I could see he was tried his mouth was open wide, I started to feel better, confident, strong.  Each time he tried to attack I caught him with a quick push kick deep into his abdomen, I distinctly remember delivering these with anger coursing through my body, anger for his show boating, anger for disappointing my trainers, and anger at myself. He was back tracking it was me who was starting to dictate the pace, I could see he was hurting and was determined to capitalize on this.

We clinched up at his corner, and wrestled each other, again I threw him to the canvas, the crowd cheered, he wasn’t getting up. I looked at him in disbelief, I looked at the canvas, “what the fuck was that” I thought, I walked back to my corner they were shouting and cheering, I smiled because I figured thats what I should be doing. Den looked at me unconvincingly. I posed for some pictures and left the ring.

I was ushered to the bar where the gym usually set up. I felt beneath my lip with my finger it seemed like it was split pretty bad

Is my lip cut?…..

Yeah but its only small, the one on your forehead is much worse.

Theres one on my forehead?…….shit

Then I remembered in the fight feeling a steady dripping down on my face that seemed thicker than sweat, seeing blood on my opponents shoulder. Strange, didn’t even feel it at the time nor did I feel it now.

Having your scalp pulled together by stitches is a strange feeling, it makes you realize how tough your skin is, if the stitches are deep enough its almost like leather. I sat reclined in one of the chairs from the bar with the back of my head resting on the pool table I stared at the fairy lights surrounding the mirror behind the bar while the doctor stitched. People crowded around, Den and the Doc were the only steady ones in my vision, others slipped in and out of my line of sight, their mouths addressed me but there gaze remained focused above my eyes, cameras were out, friends and strangers were congratulating me. I hadn’t deserved the win and I knew it, I was sure he must have thrown the fight, I said it to Den he said “no he just tired, give up”. Later a tall blond guy told me that he talked to the fighter and he said he hurt his foot, I didn’t believe him. I sat silently throughout the stitching. Later I got to see a video clip and you could see that just before the fight ended his foot did connected hard with my elbow (that might explain why my elbow is a mess today) after he stood on it you could tell it wasn’t in a good way. Regardless I wished it hadn’t happened and the fight had gone on.

A few days before the the fight the owner of the gym probably the nicest most dangerous looking 50+ man I have ever seen in my life told me there would be 3 things I would learn in this fight:

1. Leg kicks hurt like a bitch.

-I don’t think I took any directly to the leg but those directed at our head certainly aren’t any more pleasant

2. How important conditioning is.

-The fight didn’t go on long enough for me to feel tired, I guess I will have to wait until the next one to learn this.

3. What your really made of.

-I learned that I need to wake the fuck up and realize I’m in a fight not a game.

Got to give a big thanks to my good friend Nathan for taking these great shots, and making me look good!

Born in Australia, training in martial arts since the age of 9. My first trip to Thailand was back in 2007. Since then i have made numerous visits back to the "land of smiles" to feed my addiction of Muay Thai. During the month of November in 2010 i had to decide between working a 9 to 5 job back home for the rest of my life, or sell all my worldly possessions and move to Thailand to live and train for the next few years. Thankfully i chose the latter. I now spend my time training Muay Thai, meeting new and interesting circles of people, sipping coconuts under palm trees on the beach and measuring the cost of everything on how much Pad Thai i could buy with that money.

Mike (Admin)

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