Chapter 1
Growing up, I was never much of an athlete. I was always undersized, uncoordinated, and lacking that killer instinct you need to win. My timidness just always got in the way. I loved sports though, couldn't get enough of them. I watched everything; baseball, basketball, football, hockey, you name it. I knew all the strategies, but competing was a different story. While I enjoyed being known as the stats guy, the one my friends would go to for every fact about every player, there was always a part of me that wished I could be out there instead of on the sidelines.
In my late teens I discovered a new sport. It was just starting to gain popularity, but was not yet mainstream. It was called mixed martial arts. It felt like the ultimate sport. Only a few rules, no teammates, just two guys squaring off to see who would emerge victorious. I would watch clips online and beg my parents to buy the pay-per-views whenever I could. What intrigued me the most was how unpredictable it could be.
There were so many different disciplines and fighting styles. A fighter could dominate one opponent and then get knocked out in his very next trip to the ring. Which is why any of the champions who stayed at the top for years at a time were so unique and rare. I watched and studied them to figure out why their strategies worked better than anyone else's.
I remember one fight in particular, I was watching with a few buddies in my parents basement. The first guy that came out looked like a monster. His body was covered in tattoos and looked like it was carved out of marble. They showed his highlights as he walked to the ring and it was knockout after knockout. The camera panned over to him and he looked like a wild animal. This flame of unhinged aggression just flickering behind his eyes, ready to explode when the bell rang.
The lights dimmed as his opponent came out next. And to all our surprise an average looking joe made his way into the arena. There was little fanfare as he made his way to the ring, a picture of calm and focus. He was clearly in good shape, as anyone would be with the level of training these fighters go through, but he was completely unassuming. You wouldn't look at him and think this is a cage fighter. Especially compared to the beast staring across from him.
My friends laughed and started making bets about how long this guy would last in the ring. It almost seemed unfair that they would put these two together, only furthering the stereotypes that this was nothing but a brutal and violent excuse for a sport.
The fight started and the bigger man rushed in, attempting to quickly land a vicious blow. But his opponent was faster. He dodged and circled around the ring. Again, the animal launched himself towards the man, sure that once his hands connected the fight would be over. But again the smaller man was too quick. My friends jeered that he was running away, stalling for time. But the look on his face was confidence not fear. I watched intently wondering what this man's secret was.
The two fighters squared up now, the larger one realizing that his attempts to bulldoze his opponent were not succeeding. He slowly began to stalk the smaller man, trying to trap him. As they moved towards the corner, you could feel the tension in the air. There was no room for escape now.
A strong punch was thrown with bad intentions, the crowd cheering thinking the end was near. But the smaller man never waivered. He just slightly slipped his head away from the punch and quickly ducked under his opponent's arms. Within seconds he had grabbed onto the larger man's body and effortlessly took him to the ground by blocking a leg and tripping him, using momentum in his favor.
The two men scrambled for position on the canvas, the larger one using all his strength to finally end up on top. My friends cheered seeing him in the dominant position, sensing trouble for the smaller man once again. I felt bad that all that effort was for nothing as he was now in an even worse position with this monster on top of him, ready to pummel his face.
But all of a sudden the man on the bottom grabbed his opponent's arm and used a technique I had never seen before. He wrapped himself around the larger man's neck and began to squeeze like a python. The larger fighter stood up, but the man never let go. They stood in the ring for a moment until the larger man crashed back down to the mat. The referee quickly jumped in and lifted the larger man's arm and watched as it fell lifelessly to the floor. He waved his hands signaling the end of the match and the smaller fighter finally let go and jumped up cheering with his hands in the air.
We were all stunned as we watched this behemoth lay completely unconscious on the floor, several doctors surrounding him trying to wake him up. The announcers were going crazy as was the crowd. In less than two minutes the smaller fighter had completely incapacitated his opponent. He had faced off against this beast and handled him like it was nothing. I was mesmerized.
It was that day that I learned about jiu jitsu. I began to follow some of the MMA fighters that trained in this martial art and they always seemed to come out on top no matter how outsized they were. I read more and more about it online, watching clips of some of the greatest grapplers on the planet as they performed these wild techniques with ease. And yet none of them looked like the athletes I had grown up watching and admiring. It was an art of deliberately controlled aggression. The best fighters never wasted any movements or tried to overpower their opponents. Instead they waited for just the right opportunity, sensing when the moment was right to let out a burst of offense and finish their opposition.
I continued to watch for a few years, always too timid to try it myself. My past sports failures echoed in my head, reinforcing the idea that anything athletic or physical was not for me. But for some reason jiu jitsu felt different. I was drawn to it like no other sport before.
What if I just try it? It can't be that bad, can it?
, I thought to myself. When I turned 20, I finally decided this was something I needed to do. I was petrified of going in and getting completely destroyed. Maybe even badly hurt. But there was another part of me that thought back to that unassuming fighter I watched all those years ago. The one that started it all. I had to know the secret to his confidence and I knew jiu jitsu held the key.
There was a local gym in my town and after weeks of reading reviews online and driving by, I finally forced myself to go in. I was nervous, but after my first class my only regret was that I hadn't started sooner. I loved the atmosphere of the gym. Everyone was pretty laid back and was just looking to train and get better. There were guys of all different skill levels, from beginners like me, older guys just looking for a workout, all the way to guys who were training for competitions. Within a month I had been paired up with all of them at some point. Each one was kicking my ass, but I could feel myself improving with each class. And all the guys were happy to give me tips after they made me tap out.
The facility itself was okay, a little hole in the wall in a strip mall. I imagine there are way better gyms where real MMA fighters train, but I'm sure there are worse ones out there too. Most of the space was taken up by the mats, but there was a back room with some lockers, a small sauna and showers. It was always kept nice and clean and it quickly became my home away from home.
Before each class everyone would get warmed up so we could be loose before the instructor began. I was off to the side one day, stretching and listening to some of the guys chat. I had on my fresh gi, which was the standard uniform we wore. It looked like what the karate kid wore in those movies. My white belt was tied around my waist, the knot still not perfect even though I had tried several times to get it just right.
The door to the gym opened, the little bell above jingling so the instructor could hear someone had entered. I looked up and was surprised to see a woman walk in. As far as I could tell, there were only men training at this gym. Not that it was explicitly stated anywhere, but I had not seen any women in the classes. Granted I had only been there for a short time.
While the rest of the guys continued to talk, seemingly not noticing or caring about the new female presence, I watched her come into the gym and stand by the two chairs that could be considered a "waiting area". She seemed to be holding a piece of paper and was looking around unsure of what to do next. Our instructor for the day, Billy, got up and greeted her.
She gave him a big smile that lit up her whole face. I was close enough to just barely make out what she was saying. "Hi, I saw this flier about taking a free class and wanted to see what it was all about," she said.
"Ah yes, come over to the front desk and I'll have you fill out a waiver. Have you ever trained before?" Billy asked.
