small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: damn, I do ramble on don't I?

Monday, November 14

damn, I do ramble on don't I?

I was checking out the site “ClubLife” this morning. Rob the cat that pens it moonlights as a bouncer in New York and is quite the articulate muthafucker. He’s a favorite of mine as well as more then a few people I know. And something he wrote about this morning brought to mind this show I watched the other night. I guess it’s on every Saturday night and it’s the Ultimate Fighting Championship, or UFC.

I don’t know much about it except that I’ve run into cats over the years that are into that kind of fighting. To me it looks like free form shit where everything goes, even though I know there must be rules and things like that. You know, no kicking in the balls or eye gouging or wet willies and shit of that ilk. Plus I knew this cat that used to bounce at the Cane who’s ranked pretty high in that type of fighting. Not a big or imposing cat but one who always gave off the impression that he could walk the walk.

I actually went and saw him fight in the ring one night and after I got back to the club I told everybody that the only way to stop this cat was either shoot em, or just keep running. That night in the ring I saw him go up against this cat that had eight inches and at least a hundred pounds on him. The bell rung and the big cat stepped on my boy’s foot and broke his ankle. You’d think that my friend would call the fight right? Shit, that little muthafucker went the entire three rounds and fought the bigger cat to a draw, all with a broken ankle.

So like I was saying, my knowledge of the UFC is limited to people I’ve met over the years and watching my friend fight. But watching it on the TV in a bar full of people was interesting. There were the arm chair fighters second guessing the fighter’s every move. And there were the so called tough guys talking bout what they would do if they were in the ring. Whatever.

I look at shit like that with a markedly different prospective which I think comes from twenty years of bouncing in bars. I’ve never been a fan of fighting, UFC, boxing or any of that. I guess because I know what it takes to knock another man out, and no matter how you look at it, to me it’s not cool. Now don’t misunderstand me, I don’t like it but I can sure as hell understand it. I didn’t bounce all those years and not come away understanding the urge to go toe to toe just to see who ended up still standing.

But then again I never called myself a tough guy, maybe tough by default. I was too fat to run and too big to hide plus I despise bullies of any sort. So I had to learn to stand my ground. But tough guy I wasn’t. Anyway, after watching these guy’s fight, I wasn’t altogether impressed by how tough they were. I was really impressed by what it took for them to get to where they were if that makes any sense.

UFC fighting is going full tilt for three five minute rounds and that impressed the fuck out’a me. Some cat sitting at the bar called em pussies for grappling on the ground and I explained to the little cocksocket how to me that was the hardest part of the fight. Ask any cop or amateur wrestler how difficult it is trying to subdue some cat fighting your every move. That kind of shit will break your heart quicker then anything out there. And that’s what I found most impressive, the back story, training and the heart to keep going for that long.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"


Blogger Creature in Boston said...

I hope our little fighting friend is well. Didn't get the chance to see him fight but saw the passion he had for testing his limits.

I'll hope to catch you while home for Christmas. Peace. Y~

3:30 PM  

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