What did I get myself into?
The thought reverberated through my head.
"Mike, you want to spar?" coach asked.
I thought it was going to be an actual class today. Not a match.
"Sure."
I hope I looked a lot more confident than I felt.
Coach checked in with me later to see if I was still game.
"Everyone has to start somewhere," I replied.
It's true, but that doesn't make the nerves go away. Everyone starts at the bottom when they learn something new. Sometimes skills can transfer and you won't start at the foot of the pyramid, but it's a damn good idea not to believe yourself at the top. Someone else has earned that spot and it's a long topple.
My opponent was going to be a kid half my age. There's an advantage in that, but I learned the hard way in wrestling that training trumps self-confidence. My opponent had been training for over a year. This was supposed to be my 7th full class wearing gloves.
Each match was three 2-minute rounds with a 1 minute rest break. Six minutes is not a lot of time out of day, but an unprepared for six minutes is exhausting. I learned that the hard way in wrestling. I've been working out some, but not to the level a 6 minute match requires.
No matter how tired I was, though, I had to see it through.
I wondered what it would feel like to get punched in the face repeatedly. How much does a leg kick really hurt?
The thought came in again. What did I get myself into?
The Early Matches
The first match of the day was a pair of women who could kick my ass in a fair fight. Like I said, wrestling taught me that willpower and self-confidence are a piece of the puzzle, but there's a lot more pieces than that one. You can believe in your ability to escape a hold all you want, but if the other guy has the position, technique, and athleticism then reality conquers wishful thinking. I think every young male believes themselves as far more capable than they really are. Wrestling was a great reality check for me.
The women in the ring were clearly trained. They moved, they feinted, and they were non-stop action. Untrained people normally start off in a flurry and then burn out faster than cheap fireworks. One of the women caught a glancing blow before the end of the match. The edge of her opponent's glove slipped across her cheek leaving a bloody cut in its wake.
The matches continued. The other fighters from my gym stepped forward. I knew a little of what to watch for, but a lot of it flew under my radar. I thought the first fighter from our gym, Adam, clearly had the upper hand in his match. Then he came out of the ring and mentioned how sore his legs were. The other guy had checked a number of his kicks and I never picked up on it. (Mental note: Learn to do that.)
Coach stepped in the ring with a fifteen year old when I was on deck (aka next in line). The kid had a full six-pack. He was cut and clearly knew what he was doing. Coach seemed relaxed and clearly not going his all out, but the kid managed to catch kicks, clinch, and throw Coach to the mat several times. There was an intensity that showed in everything the kid threw. His chin was tucked, and he started dead ahead through his eyebrows. They looked like zombie eyes. Totally zoned in to the fight and nothing else. Coach's guard was more relaxed and he stood more upright. There was a looseness as he moved his head back and forth that told me he wasn't looking to hurt anyone. However, there was a moment or two after a fall or a series where I thought he was going to get mad and dial up the intensity. The kid was that good.
And I was going to fight another kid immediately afterward. I could see him warming up with his coach across the way. I was standing at ring side idle. I sort of stretched out my hamstrings a little in the beginning when I realized there would be no organized workout. Whoops.
Later, I found out the 'kid' fighting the coach was some form of champion. I heard "world champion" and I wonder if it was a kid after all and not a young-looking adult. I'll have to ask Coach next time I'm at practice.
It didn't fully settle my nerves. I made sure to pee before I got in the ring. No sense getting hit in a full bladder.
My Match
What made me the most nervous, was I did not know what to expect. I watched a handful of matches prior to my turn, but doing and seeing are two very different things.
My first question to coach: "Am I supposed to climb over the ropes?"
There are always certain rules and expectations with any sport. I never stepped foot in a Muay Thai ring, so I had no clue what their traditions were.
Coach clued me in. First, I had to touch gloves in a sign of respect. Second, I had to slide my gloves across the top rope three times. Then I could step on one rope and climb over. Seconds and corner men enter between the ropes. Fighters do not. Once in the ring, I had to slide my gloves on the top rope three more times to "seal" my entry and again pay respect.
Then the match started.
Just kidding.
Then the man in my opponent's corner pointed out I had not shin pads on.
Whoops.
Coach climbed through the ropes and quickly put his on me.
The ref, the head coach of the gym, walked over and gave Coach and I a quick rundown. His fighter was instructed to go easy at first, and dial it up to whatever intensity I took it. Coach then warned me "not to get hot headed" and lash out after getting hit if I didn't want to get lashed back.
Then the match started.
I was glad for the first punch I took in the face. Up until that point, I had no idea what 'dialed down' was. The punch didn't hurt. It was solid. It made my head jolt, but it also gave me an idea of what I was supposed to do in return.
Retreat is a great way to stall or defend, but all defensive makes no headway. I punched back, connected, and my learning experience was on.
The match was a mix of hitting and being hit. I struggled to focus on my fundamentals and keep my technique as clean as possible. I knew I had to pace myself at first if I didn't want to burn out from my sub-par cardio.
My opponent breathed right. Every time he struck, he exhaled. I don't know why I focused on it so much that first round, but I did. It told me that he listened to his coach. It also reminded me that I wasn't breathing right. I was holding my breath. That would bite me later in the game.
I also started to feel more confident. The punches didn't hurt. Neither did the kicks. I tried checking and focusing on my defense at first, but I couldn't read when a kick was coming.
It is better to kick than be kicked.
I lashed out and was rewarded.
I started to throw more teeps, and kicks. No knees. One, Coach never showed me them, and Two) I didn't know if those would really hurt my opponent or not. My teeps didn't seem very effective either, and my opponent started to check my kicks so I started to throw in feints. I was rewarded with landing more kicks. The intensity dialed up as my opponent realized I wasn't a pushover.
My punches were mainly 1s and 1-2s in the first round. My opponents guard was a little sloppy and if he didn't always manage to hit me in the head I probably would've hit him far more often. Defense: I'll have to work on that.
At the end of the round, my coach gave me some tips. He noticed the low guard as well (of course...he's coach) and told me to not be afraid and launch more combos.
The round started: I gave and and I received. It's not like I counted how many times I got hit in the head, but after an initial pounding I got more into a groove and hit back more effectively. I was still unsure of how to dial my shots in. I tried not to launch anything without restraint, but I knocked my opponents head around some.
At one point, I think it was in the first round (but it could've been the 2nd), my opponent launched into a clinch. Wrestling and Jiu-Jitsu training took over. I clamped down on the back of the kid's head, pinched my elbows, and shocked him. He wasn't expecting a trained response. I shoved him into a corner pinning him against the upright. I hadn't taken a solid knee, but I knew I did not want to. I pushed up and shortened the distance so that we were both forced upright. I freed my right hand from the clinch and since I didn't really know what else to do with it I punched my opponent in the ribs a few times before break it off. I was in the ring to practice Muay Thai, not wrestling. Plus, I didn't know if I was hitting too hard or if my blows were completely ineffectual. It just didn't seem like a good idea at the time.
Later, we tied up again, and I was in a good position to launch my opponent if I stepped over his leg and hipped into it. The only problem was: I didn't know if it was legal. The last thing I wanted to do was walk into someone else's gym and throw a blatantly illegal move.
I asked coach between rounds and he said "I'm glad you didn't. Throws have to be bone on bone like from an attack."
The third round came. I was sucking wind, but I held on. The last minute was supposed to be 'turned up.' Once again, I gave (thanks to my opponents low guard) and I received (thanks to my opponents punches). I ate a couple of solid shots. They didn't hurt per se, but it was like having your head suddenly jolted to a stop when it's in full motion.
I must have hit my opponent square in the nose more than once, because he had a booger on his lip. I'm ADHD. I notice these things (don't judge me!).
I was thrilled when my opponent move to clinch again. It meant I could use my old instincts and catch my breath some. I threw him into the ropes, but didn't hold him there long enough to get called on stalling (or feel guilty for being lazy).
The match ended. Both of our hands were raised and I survived my first sparring.
I'm sure it was a sloppy punchfest in the eyes of the veterans. Both my opponent and I connected with a lot of punches, but we weren't punching with near the controlled force other guys were. The next match up ended with a slip and hook connecting that visibly rocked one of my teammates. If it hadn't been a sparring match, the guy who landed the hook would have assaulted his opponent while he rocked and reeled.
The Aftermath
It's funny that I can spent that much yarn about a 10 minute stretch of time. Sure, I tried to keep it exciting but the end result is three fold:
1) I had my first sparring match
2) I did better than I expected
3) A kid half my age gave me what will probably be a nice shiner (at least he was the same size as me, heh).
A judge would've scored it my loss, but I count it a win in that I learned a lot and got to string together what I've been learning.
The kid, Keanu, stopped by to chat with me before I left. "How's the eye feel?"
"Eye?" I reached up and touched my face. I didn't notice anything feeling amiss.
Keanu looked at me. "Yeah, that's probably going to be a shiner."
That'll be fun to explain on Monday. "Hi kids! A kid a couple of years older than you knocked your teacher in the face!"
Other than that, I'm not really worse for the wear. My jaw hurts, but I suspect it's from clenching it without a mouthpiece the whole time (or being punched a lot). It doesn't bother me until I try to chew something. Then it's noticeable! (Note to self: buy a mouthpiece). I also have a bruise forming on the top of my foot. I suspect it's from a check, because I can't think of any other reason I'd have a bruise there.
Keanu and I talked for a little while afterwards. He's half my age, but he knows more about the sport than I do. He pointed out some things from our match (like never turn to look at your corner....oops) and I was happy to hear it. Humility means you can learn something from anyone. I like to think that I practice it. Keanu told me that he got into muay thai to get himself in shape. At one point, he said he wanted to quit but the trainers wouldn't let him. He certainly benefited from it.
One day, I'll get Shane involved in a sport. I don't really want him to jump into a sport like Muay Thai or BJJ until he's closer to college age. I don't want him thinking of himself as "Billy Bad-Ass." I'd love Shane to get involved with an instructor or coach that would drill some discipline and respect for opponents into him. I wouldn't want him with a coach that builds ability but doesn't build character. There are enough selfish prima donnas in the sports world as is. I suspect Shane's going to be a large boy and I want him to have a servant's heart, not a bully's.
Plus, I hope Shane will wrestle. It was a great bonding experience between Pop Pop, Matt and I and it pushed me to levels I never knew I could reach. I'll never force Shane into a sport, though. If anyone reading this sees me doing that, please call me out on it. It would be awesome to see my son out on the mat, but it has to be his desire.
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