It’s a strange type of celebrity to be a fighter. Even if one is just a lowly amateur fighter in this rapidly expanding landscape of fighters, kick boxers, mixed martial artists, “ultimate fighters”, or any of the other terms used in today’s modern lexicon to describe what it is we do. There are many stereotypes that are conjured up when a person mentions that he is a fighter. There are those that erroneously label us as troublemakers, bar room brawlers, street fighters, or thugs. There are those that label us as wannabe tough guys and meatheads.
Why is it that merely mentioning the fact that we are fighters immediately gives some drunken idiot the idea that we are interested in showing him how hard we can punch or how high we can kick? Why do they think we would even remotely be impressed by the almost cliché challenge of, “so you think you can kick my ass”?
However, the funny thing about all this is that it demonstrates that the fighting arts have indeed become part of the mainstream; that the once maligned and despised pugilistic arts are becoming standard fare for the sports enthusiast. Finally, we are being correctly labeled for what we truly are, “martial artists” and “athletes”, even if some misinformed people still try to label us as the opposite, they are slowly but surely becoming the minority.
I was, as many of you know, recently a competitor at a kickboxing event called Warriors Collide 4 held here in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. While watching the bouts at this great event, I realized that there is a beauty and purity in amateur fighting competition not found in the pro leagues. It’s amazing to see young men and women, fighting their hearts out, risking injury and damaged pride, demonstrating their skills, only to walk away with a small medal, a pat on the back, and the simple but beautifully encouraging words of “good fight, man, good fight”.
Watching the amateur bouts at Warriors Collide 4, I realized that only in amateur competition do we get to see the true meaning of martial arts. Men and women, entering the ring, engaging in recreational combat, with nothing to gain, but the respect of their hometown, pride, and a sense of accomplishment. It’s not to say that this doesn’t occur in the pro leagues, but in the amateur circuit, these pure emotions are unadulterated by the constant quest for financial compensation.
Eventually, some of these fighters move on to different things, some fight once and return to their day jobs as information technology specialists, businessman, police officers, fire fighters, or even school teachers, never to return to the ring. They enter the ring just this once to test them selves, to see if they are willing to engage in a friendly but brutal battle for superiority with another equally game human being. However, most of the time the battle isn’t between the two people in the ring at all, it is in fact between the fighter and that little voice inside each of them that is telling him or her “you can’t do it, you do not have what it takes”. This is there chance to thumb their nose at this little demon and say, “oh yes I can, and yes I do”.
I love watching other sports, being of Colombian descent, Soccer is of course a passion of mine. But fighting is a different beast all together. How can people not see the beauty in the fact that inside the ring, it is one man or woman and their learned skill versus another man or woman with less, equal, or more skill? This sport is nature at its most basic. It’s like two rams charging at each other at top speed, butting heads to establish dominance over one another. We don’t question this part of nature and we find it fascinating, so why do we question when two trained human competitors do roughly the same thing? It is nature in the end. It is instinct.
I fought at Warriors Collide 4 and won. Yes, I defended my title. But I am not going to sit here and say it was easy. I am not going to say, “Oh, it was a walk in the park.” I fought a guy who came to fight the good fight, who hit me square in the face with zero remorse, and was aiming to put me down. I did the same in return. In the end the judges announced what had to be a tough decision and it was in my favor. Thankfully. And there were many more decisions like this on that same night. Some hearts were broken, others were elated, but this is the name of the game, and I have to say I find it invigorating.
I come out of every competition with new respect for those involved in this sport, and I come out of each event anxious to show this sport, its competitors, and its value to the world. In every sport, there are going to be your controversies, your corruption, and your bad eggs, but I can say without a doubt, that most everyone involved in the combat sports are people with a lot of class and a lot of love.
Why is it that merely mentioning the fact that we are fighters immediately gives some drunken idiot the idea that we are interested in showing him how hard we can punch or how high we can kick? Why do they think we would even remotely be impressed by the almost cliché challenge of, “so you think you can kick my ass”?
However, the funny thing about all this is that it demonstrates that the fighting arts have indeed become part of the mainstream; that the once maligned and despised pugilistic arts are becoming standard fare for the sports enthusiast. Finally, we are being correctly labeled for what we truly are, “martial artists” and “athletes”, even if some misinformed people still try to label us as the opposite, they are slowly but surely becoming the minority.
I was, as many of you know, recently a competitor at a kickboxing event called Warriors Collide 4 held here in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. While watching the bouts at this great event, I realized that there is a beauty and purity in amateur fighting competition not found in the pro leagues. It’s amazing to see young men and women, fighting their hearts out, risking injury and damaged pride, demonstrating their skills, only to walk away with a small medal, a pat on the back, and the simple but beautifully encouraging words of “good fight, man, good fight”.
Watching the amateur bouts at Warriors Collide 4, I realized that only in amateur competition do we get to see the true meaning of martial arts. Men and women, entering the ring, engaging in recreational combat, with nothing to gain, but the respect of their hometown, pride, and a sense of accomplishment. It’s not to say that this doesn’t occur in the pro leagues, but in the amateur circuit, these pure emotions are unadulterated by the constant quest for financial compensation.
Eventually, some of these fighters move on to different things, some fight once and return to their day jobs as information technology specialists, businessman, police officers, fire fighters, or even school teachers, never to return to the ring. They enter the ring just this once to test them selves, to see if they are willing to engage in a friendly but brutal battle for superiority with another equally game human being. However, most of the time the battle isn’t between the two people in the ring at all, it is in fact between the fighter and that little voice inside each of them that is telling him or her “you can’t do it, you do not have what it takes”. This is there chance to thumb their nose at this little demon and say, “oh yes I can, and yes I do”.
I love watching other sports, being of Colombian descent, Soccer is of course a passion of mine. But fighting is a different beast all together. How can people not see the beauty in the fact that inside the ring, it is one man or woman and their learned skill versus another man or woman with less, equal, or more skill? This sport is nature at its most basic. It’s like two rams charging at each other at top speed, butting heads to establish dominance over one another. We don’t question this part of nature and we find it fascinating, so why do we question when two trained human competitors do roughly the same thing? It is nature in the end. It is instinct.
I fought at Warriors Collide 4 and won. Yes, I defended my title. But I am not going to sit here and say it was easy. I am not going to say, “Oh, it was a walk in the park.” I fought a guy who came to fight the good fight, who hit me square in the face with zero remorse, and was aiming to put me down. I did the same in return. In the end the judges announced what had to be a tough decision and it was in my favor. Thankfully. And there were many more decisions like this on that same night. Some hearts were broken, others were elated, but this is the name of the game, and I have to say I find it invigorating.
I come out of every competition with new respect for those involved in this sport, and I come out of each event anxious to show this sport, its competitors, and its value to the world. In every sport, there are going to be your controversies, your corruption, and your bad eggs, but I can say without a doubt, that most everyone involved in the combat sports are people with a lot of class and a lot of love.
This small article was just my opinion of a world I happen to be a part of, but a world I am passionate about. I respect every fighter that gets in the ring pouring his heart and soul into his training to reach a goal far beyond victory over his opponent and more about victory over his fears. For all of you amateur fighters out there contemplating getting in the ring, don’t think about it any longer, just do it! Test yourself, even if its just once, there is so little to lose, and so much to gain!
1 comment:
"...some fight once and return to their day jobs as information technology specialists ... never to get in the ring again"
Don't write me off that easily dude! lol
- Chase
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