Fight Study: Machida v. Shogun Rua; UFC 104 (10/24/09)

Shogun won.

Now that that's out of the way, let's look over this fight a little more closely.

"Karate is back"

Machida's reign as Light Heavyweight Champion is built a lot on his "allusiveness" (you mean "elusiveness" UFC programming directors) and his accuracy. He keeps his distance, then jumps in with some strikes and body kicks. Most of his fights go the distance, a lot of fans think he's boring. Machida credits his victories and skill to Karate. If anything, he should credit his flaws on Karate.

Dancing around the ring is not unique to Karate, if anything it's been a proven method of fighting since the advent of modern boxing. It is true that Karate and most traditional martial art (TMA) styles tend to stay in a longer range in their combat. Boxers and kickboxers will usually stand just outside of the boxing range. Karate and TMA guys will stand outside of kicking range, as such, a large part of their arsenal is to "jump in" to overcome this distance rapidly and fire off a shot. Since most TMA competitions are scored like glorified games of tag, a lot of TMA guys are good at backing off and avoiding contact. When it comes to boxing, the way you fight a dancing boxer is to cut the ring off and corner him against the ropes. In the much larger octagon, there's a lot more space for Machida to run, making it a lot harder for fighters to cut the ring off and punish Machida. It's a great strategy and surprises me as to why there aren't more fleet footed fighters in the UFC, likely some machismo mentality MMA fighters seem to have about slugging and banging in the middle of the ring as opposed to fighting a "boring" but smarter fight.

What Karate guys aren't good at is keeping their hands up. With certain exceptions, (Kyokushin Karate for instance) most Karate guys drop their hands. They also don't realize the importance of keeping their chin tucked, if anything, they are taught to keep their heads up to avoid getting tagged on the top of the head with an axe kick or the like. Machida keeps his hands low and when he throws punches he has the bad habit of dropping them after wards. His back pedaling and push off are usually enough to cover for his mistakes but slipping and countering could be the punch that knocks Machida out.

The Karate stance is also susceptible to low kicks. Since they stand with their body to one side, they keep their feet in line as opposed to the square stance of kickboxers. There's a reason why kickboxers keep their stance so square, it's so they can pick off and block low kicks shin to shin. The Karate stance is not optimal to block low kicks, with the legs and body facing the side and not forward, the leg has to rotate further outward to block the low kick.

Most TMA and Karate styles don't kick to the legs. In fact, Machida is more well known for his body kicks than his low kicks, which isn't surprising considering his karate background. The legs usually aren't a scoring target in most Karate competitions (again, with the exception of Kyokushin). This makes Machida predictable with his kicks, usually his speed allows him to get away with throwing a kick and getting out, yet predictable timing is predictable timing none the less. Check out Nate Marquardt's victory over Damian Maia at UFC 102 for proof.

To beat the Champ

So to sum up, Machida's defeat lies in cornering and cutting off the ring, timing his rush in attacks and countering to his body or his legs to further cut off his mobility, slipping and taking advantage of his high chin and lazy hands.

Shogun did nearly all that and still could not "win" in the eyes of the judges. Granted, the ruling has come into question and has brought the fight a great deal of controversy.

To Machida's credit, the fight is a lot closer than fans have been crying about. No round with the exception of the last round is clearly dominated by one fighter. (Shogun) The fourth round arguably goes to Shogun though not incredibly decisive by any means. The first three rounds is the trouble, they are very very close. For every strike Machida would throw, Shogun would return in kind, usually to Machida's legs. By the fifth round, Machida was heavy on his feet and couldn't muster much of a counter offensive to Shogun's devastating leg kicks. Shogun threw more strikes, landed more strikes, forced the pace and kept the offensive and had the only clearly dominating round in the fight. So what went wrong?

Judges decision

So what happened? The judges sure surprised the hell out of everyone, including Machida and his corner. The Judges scorecards revealed that all but one judge scored the first three rounds to Machida. All of them scored the final round in Shogun's favor at the least. The other two Judges scored the fourth to Shogun as well. So the first three rounds are the rounds in question. Truth be told, they were just too close to call. If you look at the math and say, okay, Machida won those first three rounds to Shogun's final two, then yes, Machida won by decision.

The problem with scorecards are that they don't take into account the tide of the match, nor do they allow "even" rounds. Let's say the first three rounds could be scored as even rounds. The only clear dominating round then goes to Shogun. Shogun was winning the fight at this point and had this rate continued and had there been more rounds in the match, Shogun would theoretically win. But that's not how MMA or boxing works and defeating fighters who rely on point wins is a fight against time. Point fighters win the battle by winning proxy battles, a significant round is meaningless then unless the fighter can finish off the fight in that significant round.

A possible explanation for Machida's taking of the first three rounds is the perception of low kicks by the judges. As far as I'm aware, there is no clarification on the weight of strikes, there is no rule that officially declares punches to the head scored higher than leg kicks, so the decision is up to the judges discretion. Can a leg kick finish a fight? Yes; however a leg kick will unlikely cause a flash or instant knockout. A punch can finish a fight instantly, the leg kick needs building up. In boxing, body punches are the same way, they are "money in the bank," an investment to take away a boxer's long term fighting ability. They are less likely to cause a knockdown but that doesn't necessarily mean they are scored any less. So when Machida throws a kick to the body of Shogun and Shogun counters with a leg kick, a possible theory is that the judges scored Machida's body kick more value than Shogun's low kicks.

Another possible explanation is who controlled what little grappling there was in the match. Shogun would counter a knee by shooting in for a takedown but Machida would defend all of Shogun's attempts. (3 or 4 in total I believe) This ends up scoring a point for Machida instead of shogun.

One could also make the argument that even though Shogun was the one pressing forward, Machida was the one initiating contact, Machida was the one firing first. Perhaps the judges interpreted this as offensive aggression, despite Machida's constant backwards footwork. Most would argue that Machida's retreating would constitute as defensive aggression, which the rule set officially declare as inferior to offensive striking. Also, since Machida is back pedaling while getting hit by Shogun, perhaps the judges argued that Shogun's strikes didn't have as much weight behind them and weren't as significant as Machida's. Though to be honest I hardly buy this.

Honestly the match was very close, I still think Shogun won the fight, pressed the pace, gave as good as he got and then some, and had the only dominating round in the match. It wasn't quite the robbery everyone claimed, it was a lot closer in scoring than people are giving Machida credit.

Yet one thing remains rightfully clear, Machida's image of Karate invincibility has all but dissolved at this point thanks to Shogun. Can every fighter have similar success as Shogun did against Machida? Not likely. Can Machida overcome his faults, yes, but part of the problem lies in his so called strength. As I pointed out, his sloppy habits are the faults of Karate. There is a reason why TMA were so easily beaten in the early octagon days. There's a reason why MMA fighters are pretty generic now in their fighting styles. Certainly part of Machida's fame is his distinct Karate flavor and I would like to see him overcome his faults without compromising his Karate lineage but that will be difficult. The hands and chin can be ameliorated but years of TMA can ingrain bad habits. The stance however has no true counter measure to low kicks. The only means of defending a low kick in a karate stance is footwork really, to step back and away and let the kick miss completely. Unfortunately, the way Shogun countered left little time for Machida to regain his balance fast enough and step out of the way, and as the match continued and the leg kicks accumulated, Machida's reflexes had been worn down to the point that footwork was impossible. Kyokushin Karate is the only Karate I'm aware of that trains with leg kicks specifically, of course Kyokushin does so by compromising the traditional karate stance for a more square stance, similar to kickboxers.

The rematch is set to be as immediate as possible, thankfully. So we'll be seeing Shogun v Machida 2 by either late December or January if possible. Good news for true fight fans, this was a fun fight to watch.

Fight Study: Mayweather vs Marquez (9-19-09)

Just finished watching the Mayweather comeback. It's not the most exciting fight but if you want a textbook example of great boxing defense, then look no further than Mayweather. To be fair, Marquez isn't the best offensive fighter, he's actually more of a counter puncher. Unfortunately, Mayweather is a bad match up for Marquez's style. Counter punching relies on having an aggressive opponent and being faster than him, both things Marquez did not have in Mayweather. Let's recall what made Mayweather shine in the match.

A left hand that can rule the world

If you want to see how to use the jab effectively in a boxing match, watch this fight. He absolutely controls the fight and the distance with his jab and with his speed, his jab continued to land in Marquez's face. Not that Marquez's hands were particularly low, but it looked like Mayweather had an open lane to Marquez's nose the entire time. This is deceptive, it's not that Marquez was open, he was just slow to react and couldn't parry the jab the entire night. Mayweather would throw the jab offensively but more importantly he would throw it defensively to keep Marquez at bay and when Marquez did close the distance, Mayweather would make him pay with a quick right cross following his jab.

Mayweather with legs astride, steps his left foot forward to throw the jab, keeping his right foot back like an anchor. Then he snaps the jab out and steps his left back to his stance, safely out of range of retaliation. It's that rear right foot that lets him pull back without back pedaling, it's the deep forward step that lets him reach his target from out of range. Up until now I have been throwing my jab mostly from the shoulder, sure I step forward with my left but I had been doing so as a formality without truly realizing how to apply it. I need to take a deeper step w/ probing jabs.

Shoulder roll

The shoulder roll style of defense is pretty tricky to utilize but a great defense and one Mayweather essentially has mastered. His right's always up protecting his face, his left shoulder is raised to block his chin, his left arm covers his body and if need be his left elbow raises to block any incoming rights to the head. When his back would touch the ropes, which didn't happen enough to Marquez's likings, he would cover up in a more traditional ear muffs style of block w/ his elbows tucked in tight. Try as Marquez might, he had very little success of landing any meaningful punches to Mayweather's chin and body. He certainly connected but nearly all glanced off Mayweather's defense. My own defense is more of a peek-a-boo style so the shoulder roll isn't really my style but there are times when I'll slip into it after certain attacks or if I happen to drop my left after an attack and can't bring it up fast enough to block a counter. I do however have a bad habit of not keeping my elbows tucked in tight enough and could learn a thing from Mayweather.

Turning the opponent

In boxing, there's a saying that you want to turn your opponent. That when you step around your opponent, you cut an angle and make him have to turn to face you again. Often, Mayweather would land a counter right when Marquez tried to sneak in with his own left, then react fast enough to Marquez's incoming right and duck right under the punch, cut the angle, and turn around to his back. Generally you don't want to step to your opponent's right because you're in danger of stepping into his power hand. (assuming all orthodox stances) However sometimes when you're in punching range or if your opponent is coming towards you and you don't have enough time to react you have to do what you can. Being able to react and duck that right like Mayweather did and turn, that's talent. I myself like to counter punch in boxing range, which I've come to realize requires great reaction speed to point blank punches. It's something I'll have to keep practicing.

It'd be interesting to see what would happen if Pacquiao and Mayweather fought. Everybody wants it, it's just politics and money preventing the fight. The two top contenders for the pound for pound title, the king of offense versus the master of defense, it'd be a hell of a fight. Honestly I'm not sure how you can beat Mayweather, his defense and speed is phenomenal, but maybe Pacquiao's own speed and power is the answer.

Who was that masked man?

I love Halloween. Actually, that's a lie. I love chocolate and candy but I'm indifferent to scary/spooky/gorey/gross/haunted and every other adjective associated with the so called holiday. Honestly, I really just love dressing up in a costume and on Halloween I can justify my secret love affair with cosplaying without people looking at me like I'm an absolute freak. Cosplay is short for costume play, it's where super fans (nerds) of comics/anime/movies/videogames/science fiction show their affection for their favorite comics/animes/movies/videogames/science fictions by dressing up as their favorite characters. A lot of "hardcore" cosplayers will construct their costumes from scratch, the skills and patience which I lack. These cosplayers tend to gather at convention shows and congregate with other cosplayers and fans. Goofy posing for pictures ensues. I've been to one anime convention, I was there to watch Spencer and Tai play Smash Bros at a game tournament, the nerdness was overwhelming.

There's good cosplay











and then there's so absolutely god awful that your face melt like at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.












Still the dedication some fans have to be able to create their own costumes is admirable (if not, obsessive and borderline creepy) and there's something cool about a really well done costume. Dressing up like your favorite super hero can be a lot of fun, hero worship is endearing to me and so every year when Halloween rolls around I really contemplate and plan out what I want to dress up as eagerly.

This year I've narrowed it down to about three choices. They are as follows:

Little Mac from Punch Out!



Pretty easy costume really. Some green shorts, a black under shirt, and some boxing gloves. The boxing gloves are the hardest aspect, since they're green and all. I could spend the money on some real green boxing gloves, which I can also get long term use out of w/ my actual boxing, or I could just buy some cheap ones and a can of spray paint. I have fond child hood memories of the original Punch Out game on the ol' Nintendo and with the new "remake" that came out for the Wii this year, this is a very viable costume. It is kind of too easy though, what with me actually being a boxer and all and only the video game savvy will be able to distinguish the subtlety of being Little Mac and not just a generic "boxing" costume.

The Spirit




As far as comic book super hero's go, none are as stylish as Will Eisner's the Spirit. Sure the movie came out late last year and sort of flopped but I loved Frank Miller's slick movie. The costume wouldn't be too difficult to construct either, the hardest piece being the signature black trench coat. Sadly there aren't too many cheap trench coats around so the coat could be costly, but I did happen to find a red trench for fairly cheap for my Dante costume last year so it's plausible. Plus, who doesn't love the opportunity to wear a fedora?

Kato from the Green Hornet



This is a costume I've been wanting to try for a while now but never could figure out how to get the materials cheaply enough. Kato is another comic book hero that is very simple and stylish in design, hailing from a similar era as that of Will Eisner's the Spirit. Of course, Kato was brought to life by the one and only Bruce Lee. For a while now I've toyed with the costume idea, the chauffeur's cap is easy enough to order online but buying the coat is rather difficult as I could not find a cheap alternative to the pricey jackets online. Recently though I read on a website that a chef's jacket could play as a cheap alternative and sure enough I can order online a black chef's jacket that'll help me look the part. Along with a domino mask, now fairly easy to find thanks to Kill Bill's crazy 88s, and some black foam nunchucks, this costume is now a very viable possibility.

I also considered a costume inspired by the movies Watchmen or GI Joe. However, Rorschach is likely going to be a very popular costume this year and a quality looking Snake Eyes/Storm Shadow, while it would be fun to dress up as a ninja again something I haven't done since elementary school, would require a lot more ingenuity and money.

I had some time to kill this weekend and was in the near vicinity of a Halloween store so I moseyed in and took a gander at what they had to offer. A lot of hats, a lot of prop weapons, some rubber masks, and packaged ensemble costumes, most of which were priced ridiculously in the 60 dollar range. They're complete quick costumes for the lazy and uninspired but I guess there aren't really a lot of places you can pick up a chicken suit. As I walked through the adult costumes I noticed something about adult male costumes and adult female costumes. Adult male costumes for the most part tend to be perverse gag/joke costumes. The hot dog vendor, or pickle vendor, or dick in the box, or some other play on the dick in the box sketch form SNL. At least there are some character costumes you can buy. Yet ladies have it worse, everything they have to choose from look like stripper outfits. Even their character costumes are "sexified." I suppose that's to be expected when Playboy starts selling sexy Halloween costumes. Now I'm not complaining that ladies seem to like dressing up in sexy outfits that on any other night would pass for lingerie. I'm pretty sure Mean Girls made a good observation about this same phenomenon. I just thought it peculiar that the preference for Halloween costumes and the intentions behind them are so different from my own. Some people seem to want to get lucky on Halloween. I just want to dress up as a super hero. Man, I'm a dork.

Lessons Learned - Matt and Kim

Have you seen the Mojito Bacadari commercial that's been playing lately? This one I mean:




It's a pretty cool commercial and the song is super catchy. That song is Daylight by Matt and Kim and I saw them live for the second time this year last Tuesday.

I was in Fort Collins one night earlier this year seeing my friend Amy's band Post Paradise perform at the Aggie. I was hanging out w/ the FoCo crew and sipping on my beer when this crazy catchy song comes on, followed by more frenetic and catchy music. I was really digging the band but they were completely foreign to me so I literally walked up to the DJ and asked the guy who the band was playing. He had it on shuffle and didn't even know himself (some DJ) but it turned out to be Matt and Kim. I made a mental note and enjoyed the night.

Practically the next day I see a flyer in the Psychology building for a concert, Cut Copy feat. Matt and Kim. I figured what the hell and picked up some tickets.



These guys were soooooo much fun to see live. Matt and Kim are just up there having such fun on stage that their joy really transmits and infects the audience; it's impossible not to have fun with them playing as far as I'm concerned. I mean they do crazy antics on stage like walk on the crowd, posing and pointing to the sky, and jumping around while playing and the fans are clapping and singing and jumping like crazy. I was only saddened that they were the opening act and could only play half a set list. Not to take anything away from Cut Copy though, they turned out to be really good live as well. After the show I actually got the chance to talk to Kim and it was pretty cool, I got her to sign a copy of their cd and she told me that they were coming back in September and I told them I would be there.

And I was. And it was unbelievable.

What's cool is that as I was coming to the bluebird, I was wearing my Matt and Kim t shirt I had bought from when they opened for Cut Copy, and I'm walking towards the theater and I see this guy approaching from the opposite direction. He notices my shirt and points at me in recognition and I recognize the guy as well. It's Matt! From Matt and Kim! And I shook his hand and told him I was excited for the show. Haha. I got a lot of feedback on my Grand t shirt, maybe Matt and Kim should consider re-selling that shirt again.

Inside the venue I staked out a spot up in the pit and waited w/ the help of a Heineken. I probably ended up waiting an hour or so for the show but I much rather arrive early than fight for a spot when arriving late. There was this girl w/ this guy hanging out at the front of the stage also and this girl had this long thick brown hair and she would run her fingers through it and flip it over to one side and tease it every now and then and every time she played with her hair, I wanted to pin her against the wall and devour her. If there was ever any doubt, I know now, I really have a thing for voluptuous hair.

As the pit and theater filled in, finally the opening act came on stage. First it was two dj's that were spinning and laying down some great dance beats. The crowd though wasn't really into it all that much from where I could tell, which is lame because how can you come to a concert and not dance? Didn't bother me, I was having fun dancing and the beautiful blonde next to me that was also dancing away sure didn't hurt.

Then Amanda Blank came on and really impressed. Here's a lady who can rhyme, has dance flavored pop beats, and also can sing. She reminded me of the Ting Ting's Katie White, if, you know, she were an dark haired American from Philly who rapped about naughty things.



I really dug her and picked up her cd and even got to get her to autograph it after the show, she was cool and I've been trying to pass her music onto my friends. Seriously, "Might Like you Better" has been stuck in my head since Tuesday.

Then the roadies came out to rearrange the stage and the ladies next to me where inquisitively asking if one of the roadies was Matt. I just smiled quietly to myself having known that I had recognized and met Matt just outside the venue before the show. T.I.'s "Bring em Out" came on and some of the fans that I recognized had also been at the Cut Copy show started to get excited along w/ me, knowing that Matt and Kim came out to that song the last time they played.

As frenetic as their album is, they are a million times crazier on stage. They play everything as fast as they can and as loud as they can. What was really cool was that this time around, the audience was there for Matt and Kim and so they were really into it this time around. Lyrics were sung, hands were thrown in the air, there was clapping and jumping and Denver Colorado went crazy!



*Right after this, they played and "retired" their rendition of Final Countdown. Haha!

They also played Lessons Learned live, which is my favorite song and one I was sad they didn't play when they opened for Cut Copy. If you haven't seen it, check out their music video for the song. It's NOT SAFE FOR WORK mind you but it's a simple and cool concept of saying to hell with everything, thus symbolized by them going streaking in the middle of times square in the dead cold of February.



When they opened for Cut Copy, they closed with Silver Tiles (posted above). This time, they closed with Daylight!



After the show they dived into the crowd and danced their way all the way to the back where they signed t shirts and cds and posed for pictures a good full hour after the show had ended. Usually main acts don't really do that but Matt and Kim were cool enough to stick around. I got to talk w/ them briefly, Matt actually remembered me from before the show even!

All in all, I love the Bluebird, it's such a nice venue. Moreover, I love Matt and Kim! They put on such an amazing concert and they're just so much fun live and I highly recommend seeing them if given the opportunity. What's more, I get to go back to the Bluebird tomorrow and do it all over again with Gaslight Anthem. Haha. I love live music.

*Thanks to Youtube user jodiesconcerts for uploading the vids of the concert!

Ready to rumble

One of the reasons I loved Boulder so much was how athletically conscious the city was, which meant great opportunities for exercise and fitness. I remember when I lived within walking distance of the campus, I went to the gym every day during the summer. I took good advantage of that campus's rec center.

I also had a great opportunity to study Muay Thai under K-1 and MMA fighter Duane Ludwig and the equally awesome Tyler Toner. For being taught out of a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu school, I was fortunate to take in some quality Muay Thai instruction.

When I first came back to the Springs, I knew that I needed to do two things. Find a gym and find a boxing gym. My mom had gotten a membership to a 24 hour fitness a few months back and has really thrown herself into improving her fitness and so signing up for a gym membership was easy enough as 24 hour proved to provide everything I would really need in a weight room. Not to mention it's open 24 hours which fits my odd hours perfectly. I haven't been going every day, since I'm still adjusting to work, but I'm definitely getting back into things and starting to go more consistantly.

The second task proved to be a bit more difficult. There tends to be three types of schools that offer muay thai: 1. The Karate/Taekwondo school that offers "kickboxing" to attract customers and pursuade critics that they can teach "practical" martial arts that work on the mythical "streetz" or cardio kickboxing to attract soccer moms. 2. The MMA school that is cashing in on the sucess of MMA by offering a buffet selection of different aspects of MMA (bjj/muay thai/boxing/wrestling/etc). and 3. A traditional yet legitimate boxing gym. The occurences of these gyms occur in popularity in the same order, there being more Karate schools than Boxing gyms. MMA schools can offer decent Muay Thai instruction but not always, in fact Easton BJJ (the place I trained in Boulder) is probably an exception more than the rule.

I checked out a few MMA schools since boxing gyms are few and a Karate-fied watered down Muay Thai was not what I was looking for. The first gym I checked out was Pikes Peak Combat Sports. Fairly spacious place, offering a wide variety of training from cardio kickboxing to wrestling to krav maga, the buffet style of school that also offered cross fit training. What's nice is that there's a flat fee for the gym and students can take any and all classes they want to take. That's nice and all and it would be neat to pick up wrestling and jiu jitsu all in one place but I'm not focused on learning that stuff currently. I stuck around for their Muay Thai class, which started late because the guys were still rolling around doing BJJ, which is irritating. It's okay for the guys that stay all day and train since they're not in a hurry (which is what the students in the class that day were) but if I'm there to train seriously for Muay Thai and I'm coming there just for the Thai boxing, I'd be annoyed by the late start. The students wore fingerless MMA gloves, which isn't very practical for boxing and also reinforces that Muay Thai for the sake of MMA mentality. There was also a lot of goofing around. Certainly a relaxed and loose atmosphere is great but training should be serious and focused, instead I saw one guy strike goofy ninja poses and whenever they messed up they'd take a break from the training drill and go mess around on some nearby gymnastic rings before coming back to the training drill. If I were training with someone like that, I'd be pissed off for that guy wasting my time. I think the manager must have sensed that I was bored or unimpressed because he reassured me that the guys I was watching were still fairly new. To me they definitely looked like wrestlers trying to kickbox so I figured they had to be new. I guess I came on the day their veteran guys were out of town or something. I stayed a little while longer for their "Bag Circuit" class which turned out to be nothing more than a cardio kickboxing class. I left unimpressed and disappointed.

I met a fighter from the Fight Factory at 24 hour fitness and asked him about the gym. He said some great things but when I asked him about Muay Thai he said they don't really offer it. I guess they're an MMA only gym.

I wanted to but didn't get the chance to check out Rough House MMA. Heard good things about it and it seems like a legitimate MMA school. They only offer MMA twice a week though and I was starting to get fed up with not kicking something so I went with what I had originally figured would be my best bet for advancing my kickboxing.

I checked out a boxing gym called Boxe Francaise Sports. Originally a Savate gym, the gym has the feel of a genuine boxing gym. It's headed up by Ali Rezgui, who's apparently headed up boxing gyms and competed for French National teams. His website has competition pictures and videos of 8 year old kids (as well as adult fighters of course) that have better boxing and footwork than what I've seen from some adult amateur MMA fighters. I went in to his gym (which is modest but at least has heavy bags and a miniture ring, all the proper necessities) and met the guy and got the chance to talk to him. When I told him I was training under Duane Ludwig he nodded in recognition and told me he knew Duane and had actually coached him when he was little. That surprised and impressed the hell out of me and I was ready to sign up for a membership right then and there. He instead suggested I come in tomorrow and bring my gear and train and see how I like it. Today I'll be taking him up on that offer and I'm hoping I can impress him and make a good first impression.

I've been excited about it all morning and can't stop shadow boxing in anticipation.

Courage

After an epic struggle with html, coding, and photoshop, I present the new layout. I'm still disappointed with the loss of the art that comprised the old layout, especially since the banner was made up of original sketches of mine and such but I put some effort into the new banner on this one and I think it came out alright considering my amateur photoshopping talent. It's still a pretty simple layout, 2 columns, about three colors but I've learned that a layout can be overwhelming and overkill and so I like the simple and practical look of it. It's a modification of blogger's own rounders 4 layout, which on reflection probably wasn't the easiest of the layouts to choose to modify but oh well. I did decide to widen and adjust the widths of the layout to create some more reading space but that proved to be a lot more trouble than expected. You'll notice that I was able to keep the corners on my sidebar and footer. These were surprisingly tricky as rounders uses images to simulate corners and that meant adjusting those images to adjust the widths. I'm certainly not fluent in photoshop and css/html so it took quite a bit of trial and error and internet reading but the result is what you see now. Oh, I also mean to put up a horizontal navigation bar below the banner so I can create subdivisions on my site...but that'll wait.

So with all new phases in my life comes a blog theme reboot. This time, my current "it" word is "용기" pronounced "Yong gi" meaning "Courage." It's pretty self explanatory and fitting now that I've entered the brave new world of "real life." It's also something I've always lacked in my life and I've realized that the strength I've always been envious of and searched for has always been courage. My admiration is demonstrated in the banner's art. The original picture (sans the filtered photoshop effect) is of the boxing match between korean boxer Kim Duk Koo and champion Ray Mancini. Severly overmatched, Kim entered the ring as a challenger. The night before the fight he had scribbled "Live or die" (contrary to popular misconception "Kill or be killed") on his hotel room mirror. Kim fought Mancini in the sweltering heat of Las Vegas only to tragically fall in the 14th round. He fell into a coma shortly after and died. Gruesome but I've always fancied tragic heroes. Yet it's not Kim's death that I idolize but the courage it took to go in that ring and lay his life on the line, the metaphor made real with Kim's own death. That mentality as a challenger, that courage is what I adore and respect.

Where did the background go?

It seems like it's a ritual for me to reinvent this blog's design every other year or so. I guess I figure if I rebuilt it in some way shape or form I would be more motivated to post entries on it. It is also true that I just like to reinvent myself and if this blog is to be believed as an extension of me then, by the transitive property of that analogy, reinvent the blog. For once though, the redesign and overhaul of this blog is actually necessary. Some time ago, the host site for my pictures and graphics must have went down, out of business, or disappeared in the bermuda triangle of the internet. As such, there is no longer any color when visiting this blog and any posssible reader will only find black text on a white background. Upsetting that is...

So, I'm going to have to force myself and take some time to mess around with html again. The more difficult aspect will be creating new artwork for the banner since I lost most of my art and graphics from the move I made from one laptop to the other. So that's a real pain...

I guess I'll deal with that later...for nowzies, I should get some sleep so I can hit the gym tomorrow. I always feel more productive when I actually wake up early...which is something I haven't been doing much of as of late.

No more foolin around...

Spring break was a bust. Nowhere near as productive as I had intended it to be. Essentially ended up back at home playing computer games all night. Finished Supreme Commander and a substantial portion of the GDI campaign in Command & Conquer 3. Can't speak highly enough about Supreme Commander as an RTS game. Spent a lot of time with the family. Missed out on a blizzard that overtook Boulder. Did get some anatomy studying in. Didn't get anything else done. Ended break with an all nighter at a videogame tournament that also cohosted an anime convention. First time seeing so many people cosplay in person. Weird. Played a lot of Street Fighter 4. My Chun Li's an amateur.

Watched The Wrestler. Loved it. Tragic protagonist. Macho sport. Marissa Tomei as a stripper. I'll have to pick it up on DVD when it comes out.

Just watched JCVD. Loved it. Jean Claude Van Damme's best acting film (not that that's saying anything.) A meta film. Incredibly intimate. Makes you wonder how much of the film is him acting and him being himself. Perhaps a bit of both. Perhaps that's why he's so amazing in the film.

Boa released an American English album. It's limited in terms of its availability but its apparently at some best buys and definitely on Amazon.com. It's the first Boa album I've listened to in a while and it's actually rather good. I think the music can compete with a lot of the other pop r&b stuff that other American artists put out, if only the exposure was there.

April is packed. Nate's coming to visit which is great but unfortunately he comes at an inopportune time. Means I'll be trying to divide my time between Boulder and Colorado Springs most likely. Last month of school. I've got three lab practicals. Three essays. Actually most of my classes don't have finals, so instead of all my final exams coming in May, everything instead falls during this month. I've got like four concerts I'm going to which I'm also excited for. I've got to figure out what I'm doing after college. Possibly find a place to live, otherwise I'm heading back to Colorado Springs to move back home, which I'm not excited for. If I can find a full time job or an internship I'd have more reason to stay but neither opportunities are present at the moment. And at the end of the month, there's talk of a kickboxing "smoker," so somewhere in all that mess I have to find time to train for my first amateur fight.

Most of the time I'm just tired. I'd rather be sleeping but I guess I don't have much of a choice. I have an incredibly busy month full of work and play. I should be more grateful. Either way, no more fooling around...

Spring Break Day 1 Saturday

Slow start but that's okay, first day, it was nice to sleep in and enjoy catching up on sleep. Was woken up by a text message from the girl I met at the Cut Copy show, we played phone tag for a little bit then I got up and decided to clean up around the apartment. In the afternoon I finally decided to go and hit the gym, ran for about half an hour and then hit the bags for another hour, working on combinations ending with multiple kicks. Ran into Jarret on the way there, him on his way to play some campus golf. Stopped by Target afterwards, bought some milk and ceiling hooks. Also wanted to buy some fruit juice but decided against it. Ever since I had my blood tested for my Nutrition class and realized how high my blood glucose level is and that I might have diabetes or at the very least insulin resistance that will lead to diabetes, I've been on a health trip. So instead of fruit juice (which I can drink through so quickly) and bought some crystal light, yeah that zero calorie no sugar powered stuff you add to water to make it taste like juice. Actually the stuff isn't that bad. I bought grape, strawberry orange banana, and strawberry lemonade. Came home, finally put up my red paper lantern lights in my living room so I have these sweet red lighting now in my apartment. Watched Korea thump Venezuela in the Baseball Classics and then headed out to hang out w/ Jarret, Rich and Reggie. Saw Cindy, Brad, and Koppel at the Walrus for a brief bit of time. Cindy was trashed. So was Jarret. Came back and just hung out, watching Hamlet 2 (I'll have to rewatch it in its entirety later) and shooting the breeze. I must have just sat there and talked with Reggie for a good 30 minutes just talking. They're all going to Vegas which will be pretty crazy for them. Came home around 3 and mixed me a strawberry concoction and put on some Muppets Tonight to watch. Dennis Quad guest starring and Gonzo's doing a musical cover of Billy Idol's Dancing with Myself.

Tomorrow I need to get some writing done.

Spring Break

Things I want to get done over the break:

clean up around the apartment
jog everyday, box every day
finish reading life of pi
Write another writing paper
Research and write my rough draft paper for Computational Cognitive Neuroscience
Study anatomy
Get diabetes checked out

Reflective Essay first draft

So here's the first draft of my reflective essay I have to write for my upper division writing course. My AC adapter for my laptop died around the time I was getting to the conclusion so my paper's finally isn't very developed. Oh well, it's only a first draft so no big deal.

Shadow Boxing

William Chandler

For a moment, everything is still, as if a single instant had been perfectly plucked from the stream of time. In this moment, awareness of location, time, and even identity are empty and I am seduced by the silence.

Two dark shadows obscure my vision above my eyes, while two parallel columns dim my vision to the side. These foreign obstructions float too close to my face to make out yet seem familiar to me somehow. This vague framework boxes out my peripheral vision. There is only the space between that remains. During this moment, I am a meditating monk, entranced by the nothingness presented in front of me. Yet something nags at me, attempts to lure me and break my trance. There is a strange aura emanating from outside of my shelter, an intimidating pressure that heats the air around me and bears down on me. Despite its hostility I find myself anxiously awaiting its arrival. What could it be? It is still distant however and so the thought leaves me just as easily as it came.

The moment lasts only a breath. I hear my heart beat, feel my chest elevate and fall, experience the rush of air inspiring through my nostrils, and observe the space in front of me. There is a solace in the silence, a momentary respite. For this brief moment, I feel safe.

Thoomb!

My head trembles and my knees recoil to absorb the impact and just like that I am forcibly ripped from the moment and slammed back into reality. My senses return to me as well as my awareness of my current situation. I am boxing. My black boxing gloves are up in a heavy defensive guard like binoculars, my forearms and elbows tucked in, my chin sunken into my chest, my eyes peering through the bottom of my top eyelids, my back hunched forward, my knees slightly bent, my weight distributed over my back leg and my heels raised off the floor. Oh yeah, and there is a guy in front of me trying to knock my head off.

Thoomb! Thoomb! Thoomb!

Three more heavy hooks crash against my gloved fortress walls. The concussions shake my head and arms but I remain firm.

“Don’t get stuck! Use your feet!”

Dammit! I’m stuck! I gotta move! My coach’s voice only echoes what my mind already knows but for some reason my body fails to comprehend. Is it the fatigue? No, I’m not at my physical limit just yet. Is it the pain? No, I’m wearing headgear and gloves, and my body is pumping out adrenaline. My mind races. What the hell am I doing? Move damn it! Get out of there! Yet the pressure is too thick to move in. Gloved fists continue to rain down on me and I feel my guard weakening as punches begin to sneak past my padded sentries. Left? Right? My 16 oz. gloves feel enormous and cumbersome all of a sudden. With my peripheral vision sacrificed for protection, I stand feeling blind and vulnerable. Protection from what? I can’t see the punches coming at all. I can’t see anything! A hard uppercut connects underneath my rib cage. My arms lower reflexively from the jolt. A throbbing pain knots my stomach and I am forced to grit my teeth to keep myself from spitting out my mouth guard. Dammit! Hands up! Can’t reveal my chin! I raise my arms back up and resume my defense but a sense of futility overwhelms me. I am merely biding my time, praying the end will come, either in the form of the round buzzer or a sharp cross to the face. What the hell am I doing here!? I must be crazy! My mind panics, my body tenses and I feel my strength leave me with each blow. I don’t feel safe. There is no safety here. This was a mistake. I am powerless hiding behind these gloves. Behind these gloves, I am weak.

* * * *

I was a pretty quiet kid growing up. I was shy, clean cut, obedient, and bespeckled. Cursed with my father’s family’s horrendous eye sight, I wore large round eye glasses. My hair cut in a bowl with my bangs parted to one side. I looked like a Korean love child of Harry Potter and Kermit the frog, although I remember once an optimistic age when I walked around with perfect vision and a fashionable McGuyver hairstyle, short ponytail in the back and all. Somehow the addition of glasses transformed me from the super cool McGuyver to ordinary Clark Kent, without the cape and blue and red tights. Thus, my path became paved for me the day my vision left me.

I always admired the strong, tempered silence of my father and, whether consciously or unconsciously I do not know, followed in his footsteps in regards to demeanor. But I was first and foremost a “momma’s boy.” My mother always told me how she wanted a daughter, and had I been born without the Y sex chromosome I would be Samantha Chandler rather than William. This didn’t stop her from using me as an excuse to play dress up though and she continues to this day to try and influence my attire whenever she can. I was her only child and as such was greatly doted upon, as is the case with Korean mothers and only children. Yet being the only child in Asian cultures means carrying the heavy burden of expectations of the family name. Whether these expectations are real or implicit, they become ingrained in the children regardless of their parents’ intentions. It seems that in Asian families, parental love is something earned than freely given.

I remember a large indoor gymnasium. I believe that there was actually room for two basketball courts within this building but perhaps that is my memory exaggerating my small stature. I remember the orange hardwood floor looking especially shiny under yellow fluorescent lights. Standing off in the distance, occupying the court opposite of me were funny looking people all standing in neat lines and rows in uncomfortable looking wide stances wearing white pajamas. A man stood in the front mirroring this bed ready army. He would shout and a quick shift in his arms would follow. Then the funny pajama people would mimic the same movement and shout back. The yells resonated within the large auditorium till it reached my ears. My friend’s mother asked if I wanted to join them, my friend already out there in the mass of white pajamas looking completely awkward in his movements but earnest in his effort. I just stood quietly and observed through goggled eyes, clinging tightly to my mother’s arm.

There was one thing that motivated me out of my timid nature. It was not the incredible physique and the god like speed of Bruce Lee or the fast mouth and hands of Muhammad Ali. It was not the intricate and humorous choreography of Jackie Chan or the swaying power of Mike Tyson. I had never heard of the names Masato or Buakaw por Pramuk, or of Manny Pacquiao or Shane Mosely. I knew nothing of “Hitmen,” “Flying Dutchmen,” “Black Mambas,” or “Counts of Monte Fisto.” It was not the intriguing combination of philosophy and violence or the physical mixture of speed and power. I never knew my Korean uncle had learned Taekwondo and that my Korean grandfather was a 6^th degree black belt who had taught Taekwondo at one point. Though I would come to appreciate and learn of all of the prior they meant nothing to a diminutive six year old boy. Instead, what excited me were four green anthropomorphic reptilian heroes in half shells bestowed with what their cartoon’s theme song described as “turtle power.” With the encouragement of my ninja turtles’ action figures, I would throw on a green backpack and swing around plastic swords and daggers and fight off invisible ninjas. I would kick and punch wildly in unbridled passion at imaginary opponents and my mother would scream at me to stop unsettling dust. More than half a decade later, I am still kicking and punching, though now with more disciplined technique, at imaginary opponents and my mom is still yelling at me to stop disturbing dust.

I must have begged my mom a thousand times to let me learn Karate. It was too dangerous she would exclaim, in her eyes I was too fragile and delicate for anything rough and physical. When my mom finally yielded to my pleas to take lessons and I finally was presented the opportunity and invitation to join in, I did nothing to prove my mother wrong. All I could do was stand there, frozen in place, feeling small and insignificant. I felt oppressed by the atmosphere within that orange gymnasium. Self doubt overtook me. I was just a little Piglet, so tiny and meek. There’s no way I’m going out there! I can’t do that! I’d just embarrass myself. I felt like I wasn’t worthy enough to be there with those pajama wearing martial artists. Maybe if I came back in a few years after training in solitude on a mountain somewhere like every other legendary Karate warrior does then I might be worthy of standing in the back where I could do no harm bothering any one with my poor technique. But as it were then, I was just not good enough to be there. So I stood there with my iron grasp of my mother’s arm, burying my head in her sleeve like a scared turtle hiding in its shell.

Fifteen years later, ten years worth of martial arts training; now wearing contacts though still sporting a similar hairdo, it feels as if I’ve squandered my life. What have I been doing all these years? I ask myself behind my gloved guard. Pinned down by enemy fire, I can’t help but to recall that shy meager little boy, who could do nothing but to barricade himself in his concealed state of weakness. Nothing could be more frustrating.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

The electronic bell warns of the conclusion to the round. Only thirty seconds remain. My left leg is bruised and knotted after receiving numerous hard low kicks. Looks like I’ll be sore for a few days. My arms feel like rubber. The very act of holding my gloves up has become a difficult chore in itself. My jaw lazily hangs open in a useless attempt to suck in more air. I’m just asking to get my jaw broken. With time fleeting I know I have to make something out of this round. I rally my morale one last time. Thirty seconds! Gotta finish strong! Gotta move forward! Gotta attack!

However, the victory had long been decided, the doubt long planted in my mind and the damage already done. For try as I might, I cannot. Or maybe I can but have given up. Go! My mind screams but my body is deaf. Or perhaps my body is listening but my mind is mute. The psychological fatigue weighs heavier than any physical exhaustion. I’m too tired. It’s over. I’ve lost. Just let the clock run out and go home. What’s the point in fighting anymore?

“Are you just going to sleep your life away?”

I ignore my mother’s callous baiting. I don’t care to get into a shouting match with her today. I don’t care to do anything really. I just want to wallow in my own self pity and be miserable and withdraw completely from the world underneath this blanket. I want to be swallowed up by these bed sheets. I wish I could make the world outside just disappear and everything and everyone to just go away. Maybe I will. I hear carbon monoxide poisoning’s a rather painless way to go. I’d be sure to remember to bring a pillow.

I twist the key and pull down the mailbox’s door and grab its contents with one hand. Bills. Bills. Coupons. Wait a sec…There it was. The result of four years worth of studies, late nights full with essays and homework, interviews, recommendations, examinations, tests, and every other hurdle that could possibly be thrown at me. A simple piece of white paper folded neatly into three sections so that it could fit within the confines of a single 4 and 1/8” by 9 and 1/2” white letter envelope. It seemed unfathomable; how a person’s entire future fit neatly inside an envelope defied the very laws of nature and the universe alike. I greedily tear at the package from the side and pull out the letter that would dictate my destiny. I scan the typed lettering, taking note of official signs and emblems, it was even signed. I embrace myself and begin to read.

Out of the twenty six letters that make up the English language and the millions of words that exist within its vocabulary and the infinite number of possible combinations, never have five words hurt me so.

“I regret to inform you…”

My eyes dart frantically to take in the rest of the letter, desperately searching for some sign that a mistake had been made. Blah blah blah, thousands apply, only hundreds accepted. I read the letter over and over and over again, wishing somehow that the typed font on the page would somehow rearrange themselves or alter themselves in some pleasing way. It was not to be. Those first five words told me everything I needed to know from that cold and impersonal letter.

In my brief career as a kick boxer, I have shaken off kicks to the head, knees to the groin, my legs swept from under me, walked on blistered feet, had my neck snapped back by a stiff jab, my eye blackened by uppercuts, my brain rattled by hooks, and my cheeks puffed up by right crosses. “Boxers don’t feel pain quite the way we do,” as American author Joyce Carol Oates once proclaimed, “pain is something other than pain.” Psychological pain is a far more deleterious damage than any physical blow can deal. Despair is a dark demon of depression, a shadow, which buries itself in the heart and sinks its claws deep. This pain lingers, siphons away at the confidence and the courage essential to live. This depression manifests itself in the form of a broken heart, a failing academic grade, a poor athletic performance, and all other disappointments, gaining strength with each personal defeat. It is a pain that is visceral and real but unlike pain experienced on a daily basis. It is a pain that the spirit has only so much of a tolerance for before it is totally broken.

I throw my back wearily against the wall and sink to the matted floor. I have the round off. I take a moment to recollect my thoughts, feeling a drop of sweat fall from the tip of my nose and splatter on the ground. I try to catch my breath, knowing full well I would do better to stand up and elevate my arms overhead but I am too beaten to rise. I tear my gloves off and unhook the chin strap on my headgear in resignation. All I can think of is my inability. All I can see are my personal shortcomings: my lack of cardio, my lack of speed, my lack of strength, how I couldn’t block this kick or cover up and can’t see that punch. I am disgusted with my own pathetic existence. I feel defeated, not by the opponent in front of me but by the shadow residing in my own mind and heart, the demon of doubt, the voice that reminds me of those five words that stabbed my courage so long ago and their true meaning.

“I regret to inform you…” You just aren’t good enough.

“Don’t get stuck! Use your feet!”

I bury my head into my opponent’s chest, unloading a left hook to the liver. I recoil from the punch and dip to my left, loading up on my next strike. With all my strength I swing my arm upward, aiming for my opponent chin. He sways back and the uppercut slices through the air. He throws a right cross and long left hook as he steps back. I cover up. Swaying my upper body to avoid the blows the punches graze the top of my head, thudding on impact but doing no serious damage. I recover my composure and take in the new distance between us, the perilous bridge I have crossed countless times before and one I know I will have to cross once more to reach my destination yet again.

Boxing is an odd sport, one many find brutal and pointless. When asked why I do it, why I would volunteer myself for physical and mental abuse, why I would dedicate myself to a deliberate science dedicated to injury, I find myself grasping for words. I am unable and ineloquent at describing my passion because the very sport defies any logical explanation. It is barbaric and somewhat pointless. Joyce Carol Oates describes it best when she asserts that “the punishment – to the body, the brain, the spirit – a man must endure to become even a moderately good boxer is inconceivable to most of us whose idea of personal risk is largely ego-related or emotional.” Joyce Carol Oates would even go so far as to deny boxing as a sport because “there is nothing fundamentally playful about it; nothing that seems to belong to daylight, to pleasure.” It is a constant and inescapable cycle of suffering. The act of stepping into a vulnerable range, trading blows, and then stepping away, only to create a distance to be overcome once more so that the cycle may continue all over again. Training for fights is a battery of repetition, drilling techniques and hitting punching bags and mitts over and over till the techniques are ingrained into the muscles’ memory. Winning a fight means momentary celebration before returning to the gym to put in more work on the heavy bags and focus mitts once more in preparation for the next fight. The monotony of training is rarely fun, often difficult to get motivated for. Loosing a fight makes getting motivated to train again all that much harder.

So why fight? Why keep training? Why keep suffering? Why do I, as well as thousands, continue to punish themselves in dedication to a sport that seems intent on breaking its participants. I often wonder how many fighters have been broken along the way…

More importantly, how? How do you get up after your courage has been dragged through the bedrocks of dejection till your heart is a color of dolor and beats despondently? Where do you find the strength?

I step forward. The jab greets me but I evade it with a quick slip to the right. Another jab follows, I parry it with my glove. Jab, cross. Slip to the right, weave to the left, I avoid the combination. I fire back with my own. Jab jab! I step back to avoid the possible counter. I circle to my right, keeping my head rhythmically swaying. The jab comes. I slip to the outside. My opponents shin crashes down on my left quadriceps muscle. Check the kicks! I fire back with my own combination: right cross, left hook. My opponent covers up and steps to the side at an angle and fires a right uppercut under my ribs before stepping away. Dammit! Stuck again! I step back and take a moment to ward off my frustration.

I step forward again. Another jab. I slip to my right again. The jab comes once more. This time I step forward with my slip, grazing my cheek along the path of the punch and forcing my way inside. I’m in! I deliver a right cross over the top followed by a left hook. The punches land on the gloves of my opponents guard. He steps back to avoid the onslaught. I’m not finished yet! I step in hard and whip my leg into his body, the shin slamming into his ribcage. My opponent reels. The gloves lower.

And there it was! An opening! Like a glorious glimpse of some heavenly promised land, there stood the exposed cheek of my opponent. Time stood still once more. There was no more fatigue, no more self doubt, no more weakness or suffering. These empty feelings left me as I stood in observance of what was not just an opening but a window into enlightenment.

My head shook violently. A chopping right cross spun my head forcefully and the opening was gone, the moment dissipating. I stagger back and regain my composure. I bring my gloves up to arms once more.

Truthfully, I don’t know. I have no idea how a fighter gets up in the 8^th and 10^th round after being cut and knocked down to the canvas. Nor do I really even understand how I turned away from my suicidal depression. There was no training montage I undertook accompanied by cheesy inspirational 80’s music that pulled me through. I’m not even quite sure exactly what I seek to gain from boxing at all or if what I seek is something attainable at all. Strength is as impermanent as weakness. I can only imagine that the boxer continues to fight despite being knocked down because he’s searching for something. Although he may be bruised, beaten, and exhausted both physically and mentally, he knows that these empty feelings will pass. He may not believe it in the presence of the discouraging and defeated mind but he knows it, somehow deep down that there is still that chance to find that brief moment where he can shine and burn as brightly as he can. That brief moment that signifies the culmination of all his training, all his suffering, the moment that symbolizes his totality of being. Perhaps, it is the will to continue, to search for that moment in the face of suffering, the true meaning of courage.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

I remove my mouthguard. I stand up, throw my arms in the air above my head and pace around a little to try and catch my breath. I concentrate on my breathing. “You want to call it a day?” my coach asks. I look at my coach and then my sparring partner. His eyes meet mine full with determination. I match his fierce eyes with my own. I insert my mouthguard back into my maw and answer my coach’s question.

“One more round.”

Fight Study: Badr Hari

New post series to go along with my training reflections. Gonna study and write down my analysis of fights and fighters, to see what good fighters do. Tonight I'll review a few of K1 kickboxer, Badr Hari's bouts. When possible I'll link the fights since you can find a lot of fights on youtube these days.

Badr Hari vs Alexey Ignashov





He counters punches with kicks. When he blocks punches in the heavy guard or punches to get inside, he steps forward and transitions quickly to a clinch and knee. Hari's also always circling, just walking steps to his right. Following up the lead leg teep with hands, I should do this next time. I often will throw a teep that's just short of my opponent, so step down with the leg and follow through with either another kick or a right cross left hook combo. Wow, Ignashov wins the fight with a counter right cross to the body. I don't think I've ever seen a knee be countered like that before. Hari threw the knee from too far away without setting it up. So this is the potential danger of attacking with a naked knee from mid to long range. So throw the knee only to counter punches or if you're in close range or after setting it up and getting your opponent blocking

Badr Hari vs Aziz Khattou



Badr and good fighters are always moving, they're always walking in their stance. They never stay stationary at all. Badr just walks down Aziz and imposes his knees on Aziz the entire fight. Aziz needed to pump his jab or keep Hari away with teeps, he needed to throw something instead of just backing up or letting Hari walk into him. I need to not be like Aziz and stand my ground or side step, or throw a kick, or a teep or pump the jab. Don't let the opponent just walk in, make them think otherwise. If they just walk in on you they don't fear you or respect you, make them respect you.

Badr Hari vs Domagoj



Wow, blink and you miss it. Uhm...Who throws a left hook after a left leg kick? Seems like an unnatural combination. Domagoj's only fault is that he throws his hook a little wide letting Hari counter him with a left straight. Yeah, Hari knocked him out with a left straight. Granted it looks like Hari is actually dazed by Domagoj's hook, Hari kept his hands a little low but it's mostly that he turned his face into the punch rather than didn't protect himself. Next?

Badr Hari vs Doug Hinney



Hari loves to counter punches with kicks. I should get into this habit. Vinney throws a nice combo I could use, lead low kick right hook to the body left hook to the head. Then Vinney proceeds to get knocked out. He dropped his hands when throwing the leg kick. Badr anticipates the kicks and steps forward and throws a chopping right.

Badr Hari vs Errol Zimmerman



Hari throws a 1, 2 body that I've used before as well. It's a great combination but I gotta figure out something to continue it with. A left hook or uppercut would feel natural but considering the cross is pretty extended when it connects I'd have to leap forward with the hook or uppercut. A round kick from either leg would work though. Oddly enough, it feels like the right round following the cross feels better. I'll have to test it some more. Lol, Kimbo slice commentating, wow, that's incredibly random. Hari throws a nice cross hook then side steps. This is the type of footwork I need to pull off with my boxing combinations. Zimmerman throws a sick jumping round kick, misses but it looks cool. Wow, right crosses exploding! Zimmerman floors Badr with a short hook overhand right. Looks like Badr tried to slip the hook and counter back with a right uppercut, only thing is that Badr gets lazy and drops his hands when he slipped, taking the overhand right completely on the chin. Then Badr and Zimmerman trade right crosses. Both fighters have their hands down, Hari was just more accurate with the cross than Zimmerman the second time around. Hari sways back to avoid a high kick and sweeps the standing leg of Zimmerman. Hari's got a good stiff jab that's keeping Zimmerman at bay. But he doesn't rest on his jab, he jabs, then moves around to reposition himself in the ring. That was interesting, Hari blows Zimmerman's guard away with a right teep to the head. I'll have to try that if my opponent covers up. Right teep to the face, left round to the head. Zimmerman needs to attack from angles more, he's just walking straight in with no effort in moving his head. Slip in and work the body or try to bait the jab and come over with a right. Or cover up and step in hard and fast to clinch and throw a knee. Zimmerman's just walking in and stalking Hari, which would work on an opponent who backs up but Hari's not intimidated and throws when Zimmerman walks in. Hari's lazy hands when he throws punches bothers me. Zimmerman's hooks are too wide, the straight beats the wide hook and Badr gets the KO.

Conclusions: Hari's got some lazy hands when he throws punches. He counters boxing with kicks well though. He circles and walks in his stance, rarely standing still. When he has his heavy guard up he transitions quickly to a clinch and knees. Hari keeps opponents at bay with stiff jabs and right roundhouse kicks and then moves away.

Acute shortness of breath

She wore an orange shirt today and that ornate earing I remember her wearing the first day I had met her. She looked pretty. As we passed by she stuck her tongue out at me in a goofy way that made me laugh. I walked with her a little bit after the exam and asked her plans for the night. I decided to take a shot and without thinking sat down, maybe instinctively steadying myself for any possible disappointment that might be coming my way. I asked her if she'd like to get some dinner sometime. She told me she had a boyfriend. She quickly followed it up with a genuine interest in hanging out but by that time it felt like the wind in my sails had already dissipated. I told her that'd be cool, that it was no big deal, I don't think I did a very convincing job, and we said we'd see each other next tuesday and we went our separate ways.

Usually when I get rejected by a girl I get incredibly depressed for weeks on end. I'm at a point in my life where I'm either so used to the rejection or that I've come to understand that failure isn't the end of the world. That I should feel disappointed but not cling onto the emotion and suffer because of it. I've been listening to a lot of Buddhist lectures lately and I think that has helped me.

Yet I can't help but feel a little bummed out. Which has me thinking how weird that is. Logically I'm no worse off than I was before. I suppose I did make a fool of myself but I do that all the time. I've been lonely for a good majority of my life when it comes to a female love interest so you'd think that the human heart would become accustomed to it.

But you still feel somewhat vulnerable opening yourself up like that, getting your hopes up somewhat and let down even if it is a gentle fall.

I guess it's important to know that I'm not invulnerable and that I'm human and that I have feelings and that cute girls in orange still make me nervous. Oh well, let it go and move on like the inspiration and expiration of a breath.

Training: Sparring Reflection 1/31/09

Another Saturday another sparring session. 3rd time sparring. Still the smallest guy there but I have to stop griping about it and just get used to it.

Work the body then the head

I'm getting better at slipping the punch and getting inside. I was getting in on some punches and was able to get inside to land a few body punches. Now I need to work on landing a few punches to the body and then throw up top. Hooks to the body then uppercut to the head, or overhand to the head. Work the body then when I have their attention downstairs and their guard lowered, go high and kill the head.

Don't get stuck on the inside

This is still my biggest problem. If I get in, I need to move into a clinch, or step off to the side. Or if they get in and catch me covering up, I need to move. I can't just stand there and let them hit me like a sand bag. I'm trying to move my head which is fine but if I'm covered up and can't see the punches coming then it's worthless because I don't know what I'm trying to counter. I need to move to the side and fire back from an angle.

Stop covering up

A heavy guard is fine but I cover up way too much. I need to catch more jabs and cover up on just one side if I need to. Don't just throw up both hands whenever any combination comes at me because then I can't see and I get stuck.

Block that low kick

Ate way to many low kicks. At the very least if I eat one, throw a cross back. Make them pay for the kick. I try to evade the kick too often and they chase me down and nail me, so block that low kick more.

Don't forget about the hands

My boxing looked better today when we did just boxing. However, when we sparred with hands and kicks, I was overthinking the kicks and forgetting about the punches. I was settling into boxing range perfectly but was too focused on kicks. When I did throw a punch or two, I was landing them, I needed to throw them more.

Stop over thinking

Stop over thinking. Yes my opponent is taller but I can't let that bother me. I'm letting my mind conquer me. I'm too intimidated, too pressured, and that's sapping my cardio. Stay relaxed. Don't give up ground so easily. Fight like your back is against the wall. Let the combinations flow naturally. My body knows what to do. I just have to have the courage to get over such self doubt.

Training: Sparring Reflection

Didn't have to work last night so I drove down to Denver to do some sparring for kickboxing. (my second time) Pretty poor performance on my part considering. There's still a large disconnect between training on pads and sparring. My thoughts:

Boxing a taller boxer

Boxing Travis is always difficult because he's got a great jab and about five inches on me in arm length. So he beats me to the jab by out reaching me. I did a decent job of slipping his jab on the outside but I need to work more on transitioning from a slip on the outside to a slip to move inside. Either slip outside and throw a left straight while slipping, or slip and throw a jab to the body. I can try and cut off his jab with a parry but I need to step in hard for that since he likes to fake the jab and throw a hook around the parry hand (so move forward to catch the jab and not just move the arm forward to parry the jab). Still, I think I should stick to slipping to move inside.

Distance

Again, I'm a shorter fighter than most of the guys I spar with so distance is everything. I need to work on overcoming the distance a lot more. I'm pretty good with leg kicks, I need to utilize them more when I'm on the outside but also, I need to use them and follow them up with punches, use the kick to move inside. I tend to be a counter fighter, I wait for an attack to come and react, if I'm going to do that, I need to slip and move inside and follow with punches to the body. Or I need to dash in with a weaving motion to close the distance fast enough and cut through any punches that might come. I was getting countered with kicks a lot when I tried to work my way in with a jab today. I need to stop throwing useless jabs from far away, it leaves me open too much and telegraphs my attempt to move in. Work off angles more. Move to the side and then move in so I'm catching an opponent from an angle. I move straight in and out too much. Move in from an angle and throw jabs more when I'm going to actually connect with a jab. Or Walk in with a heavy guard and step in for those knees. I'm staying stuck when I throw punching combinations. Move with those punches so I can stick to an opponent. Or if I sense them moving out, throw a kick but don't wait till they're out of range to throw. Throw it when they're moving away and I should catch them regardless.

Lateral movement

To reiterate, move in from angles. Get in the habit of taking a step sideways when standing still. Walk around a little more. Move out when I've thrown a combination. I do it when I train with pads, now don't get lazy when sparring.

Kick more

I can almost go a whole 3 minute round just throwing kicks at a pad so I should be throwing 500 more kicks in sparring than I really am. Work the leg kick. A lot of people have trouble blocking it. Keep working it if it works. Don't get inpatient with it. It's like body punching, it's money invested in a bank. Work the leg kick. Work in double kicks. Counter punches with kicks. If they come in let them meet a hard kick that'll make them reconsider. Teep to the face, they rarely expect it. Follow up a teep with a kick. Just kick more. It's also gonna help equalize the distance with taller opponents.

Don't get stuck on the inside

When an opponent gets in on me or I get in on them and we're locked in close range and I cover up, I need to weave when guarding, step out, or stick those arms out and throw some knees. Just don't stand there like a damn heavy bag and absorb punches. Throw back, I'm not afraid of getting hit, I'm just being lazy. Work.

Step back firing

Ideally, I'd like to move laterally more. This is a bad habit of mine from Taekwondo. When an opponent creeps in with small steps, I step back to maintain the distance. Just throw a damn kick. Or a cross hook. Or if I'm going to step back (maybe if they step in deep) step back firing. Cross hook leg kick.

Courage!

I'm a good fighter. Believe it more! Act confident. Relax and be comfortable. This is probably just going to take time but I need to get out of my head when I fight. Don't overthink what he might do next. Relax and stay loose and react. Better yet, be more offensive, be more aggressive, press the action more. The tendency of the counter fighter is to feel like the opponent is pushing the pace and the action. Take control of the fight. I am better than I let on, fire more, work harder, don't fear the shadow of my opponent. Don't be intimidated. Don't stand there and stare at my opponent, move around, nag him with leg kicks. It's almost like I'm too technical for my own good, that I freeze up when it's not controlled like it is with pad work. Rough it out more. Take Duane's advice and get some! Courage!

Well, as evident, there's a lot I have to work on. I am frustrated but the good thing is that where as before I might be frustrated and disheartened, I'm eager to get back in there and work harder and get better and overcome that frustration. I'm eager to keep fighting and that's exactly the mentality I want to have, the road I want to be on as a fighter.