Thank You and Fuck You Andy, You Lousy Mothefucker

I know I declared in my About Page that I wouldn’t be dissecting MMA fights and fighters but I don’t think this experience qualifies; before I came to UBC I once sparred with this guy named Andy Wang. Andy Wang has a black belt in Brazillian Jiu-Jitsu and is a professional MMA fighter, I sparred him when I was 19 years old at a gym called BXFusion in Beijing, China.

Back in Beijing the people I trained with never really developed the habit of sparring with headgear and as a result neither did I; all we wore for protection (when we sparred boxing) was the standard 16 oz boxing gloves and a mouth guard. The rationale for not wearing the head protection was that it is a lot easier to move your head and slip punches without it. Most people at the gym didn’t have their own headgear so if anyone wished to wear one they had to use the ones belonging to the gym, which were disgusting because they were bloody, sweaty and stinky (the policy to clean them after use never materialized).

Due to the fact that people sparred in the gym without headgear, everyone accepted the rule to not emphasize hard punches on their opponent’s head; which makes sense because sparring is a semi-different concept from actual fighting. The emphasis on sparring is always to focus on technique, form and getting used to moving around with another human being, NOT TO STICK YOUR BUDDY INTO A FUCKING EMERGENCY ROOM.

This asshole Andy Wang (a professional fighter who wasn’t even a member of the gym only showed up to better his boxing ability with my trainer Ryan Willis) waltzed on in, gets into the first sparring match he is assigned, with me (the first kid he sees) and actively attempts to fucking knock me out. Andy is about my height, which means his reach is roughly the same as mine but he was obviously a lot heavier; I’m not sure exactly how much he weighed but I was only 59 kilograms at the time, he was roughly around 75. We begin sparring, I jab, he jabs, I’m thinking:

“Move around he’s a lot bigger, go light and avoid all his punches

That was the type of thinking that led me to catch the heaviest flurry of punches I’ve ever endured, but at the same time was an excellent learning experience for me. Despite my use of language in describing the motherfucker I actually really appreciate all the punches he threw and landed. Through that 3 round sparring session I realized the importance of the combined efforts of foot work and head, body movement; and that if I were to plant my feet and only move my head, body then I would have to simultaneously and effectively counter my opponent’s every punch.

Yes, I did take a lot of heavy punches from that head-hunting douche bag.

Yes, I did have a severe post sparring/fight concussion lasting around 2.5 weeks.

No, I didn’t get knocked out or even knocked down because I’m as tough as a beam of steel but it did hurt and my head has never felt the same after those punches.

This is a link to my buddy Andy crying after some loss on The Ultimate Fighter:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZ76VkRe-gA

I’m shocked to find so many YouTube videos of Andy, we don’t have YouTube in China so I only found these after I came to UBC.

Search: Andy Wang, The Ultimate Fighter

 

 

Boxing 101: Thinker or Doer? Do Not Think, Do Train!

The cliche question often depicted in Hollywood movies when the protagonist is interviewed for a job position is “Are you a thinker or a doer?”

Boxing is not for thinkers, or scholars it is a very physically and mentally demanding sport designated for doers only. Boxing is about muscle memory and instinctive reactions; all thinking and preparation should be wired in months prior to the fight. Bruce Lee (although not a professional boxer) once said

“If you try to remember, you will lose!” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AjpbUaqJqyw at 6:51)

All forms of fighting and combat sports (whether it’s Taekwondo, Judo, wrestling or boxing) are essentially the same; when you’re moving around your opponent, obviously fragments of thought will flash through your mind but the trick to beating your opponent is to not dwell on thought about him or your next move.

If you occupy your mind on thoughts such as which punch he’s going to counter you with or what you want to knock him out with you will not land punches. The only way to win fights (a side from getting extremely lucky) is to train like your life depended on it. Combining accumulated experiences of past fights with conditioned reactions, a fighter should effortlessly know exactly what to do in every possible scenario that could arise during the fight.

During the weigh-in of Timothy Bradley vs. Juan Manuel Marquez (before the fight even started) I accurately guessed that Marquez was going to lose; I was able to swiftly draw this conclusion after a brief glance at one medium-shot (picture frame) of the two standing side-by-side, it was gut instinct.

Since the the last time I saw Marquez fight (which was Juan Manuel Marquez vs. Manny Pacquiao 4) he had gotten fatter, indicating to me that he did not prepare as hard for the fight with Bradley as he did for the fight with Paquiao. Underestimating your opponent is the most elementary and fatal flaw any fighter can make, Marquez should have known better.

If you go watch the fight of Marquez vs. Pacquiao 4 then watch the previous trilogies you’ll see that Manny too had gotten fat for the 4th bout. Marquez on the other hand was in supreme shape and was determined to win, sure enough in the 6th round Marquez knocked out Pacquiao with a career ending right cross.

All the great champions ever considered to be the best are only regarded as so because of how much harder they’ve worked; you might argue that some were destined to be the best (for example Muhammad Ali) and I would agree with you however boxing (or any other form of combat sport) is much simpler than that.

Essentially what every fighter in every single weight division wants is the championship title, therefore once a fighter obtains the title he immediately becomes public enemy number 1 to all others in that weight class; if the fighter won the title by sheer chance then it wouldn’t be long until the obviously better skilled fighter(s) take it from him. However the chance at fighting the champion for the title is not given to just anyone, it is only given to the best contenders (second best next to the champion) in that weight class; and in order to move oneself up the ranks and be called the number 1 or number 2 contender you have to win fights over all other contenders (or at least cause critics to believe that you are better than all the other fighters). The championship titles of each division are always being fought over by the best (contenders) of that weight class; no fighter is ever propelled to the top by magic, the champion(s) like all other fighters began slowly working their way up the ranks, starting from the very bottom, amateur boxing.

Work Cited:

“The Way of The Intercepting Fist”. Longstreet. Creator. Stirling Silliphant. Perf. James Franciscus and Bruce Lee. Paramount Television, 1971. Television series.

 

Saga of the Boxer and the Fighter Lesson 2: “Boxer” morphs into “Fighter”; Assuming His Natural Habitat.

Arturo “Thunder” Gatti vs. “Irish” Micky Ward 1

Gatti vs. Ward 1 is undoubtedly one the most outstanding and inspirational bouts ever fought; although evenly matched, they each inevitably took over the perspective roles of the “boxer” and the “fighter”. Interestingly enough, as the fight progressed Arturo Gatti slowly diluted out of his role from the “boxer” into (his natural habitat) the role of the “fighter”.

In my previous post we learned of the two different roles fighters naturally assume and the connotative difference between the “boxer” and the “fighter”(credited to Roy Jones Jr.). I don’t mean to be disrespectful of Arturo Gatti or Micky Ward (may Arturo Gatti rest in peace) but these two guys were among the worst boxers to ever participate in the sport; I am solely referring to their boxing ability, not their hearts, which are evidently heroic.

In every single fight they have each fought they’ve always naturally assumed the role of the “fighter” (the one with lesser skill and intellect than their opponent(s)). What is so fascinating and satyr about this fight is how natural Gatti initially asserts the role of the “boxer”, setting the tempo and yet losing the fight to Ward the “fighter” by a way of majority decision. We learned in lesson 1 that the “fighter” (although the less skilled), doesn’t necessarily lose the fight every time; Micky Ward exceptionally took on the role of the “fighter” (he has had plenty of experience in doing so, as he fought nearly all of his fights as the “fighter”), keeping pressure on Arturo, closing the distance, always countering Gatti’s punches and in the end was awarded the victory by a very correct decision from the judges.

Gatti threw and landed more punches during the fight, however he never really injured Ward; the bout was ultimately even until Ward scored the tie-breaker knock-down. In round 9 Micky Ward landed a devastating left hook to Arturo Gatti’s torso, the punch was powerful and precise, the force penetrated Gatti’s liver, sending Gatti to the canvas; Arturo was down on one knee for 7 seconds before he was able to stand up again. Prior to that knock-down both men traded dramatic punches with one another but nothing seriously damaging.

Earlier in the bout Gatti more prominently tried to maintain the role of the “boxer”, seeking the smart moves, getting close, throwing punches then moving away. As the fight dragged on and Micky’s punches began accumulating damage Arturo exhausted most of his strength and resorted to what he was most familiar with; standing still in front of Ward, throwing punches without even attempting to avoid Mickey’s counter punches.

Both Gatti and Ward have long records for extremely bloody fights dictated by relentless exchanges of punches. They were always the ones taking more punches than they threw or that of an equivalent amount.

Similar to Arturo Gatti, Micky Ward is courageous, slow but not very smart. Ward maintained his poise as the “fighter” through out the entire bout, pressuring Gatti, closing the distance and throwing rapid punches. Near the final rounds of the fight Gatti exhausted himself through previous exchanges and planted himself in front of Micky; instead of sticking to the role of the “boxer” and moving around, picking precise punches like he should have.

Arturo Gatti and Micky Ward both fought with tremendous heart, unyielding personalities, and poor boxing ability i.e bad habits such as poor head, body movement and foot work; resulting in an intense, war-like brawl. As brutish as their styles maybe Gatti and Ward made it work for them in their entertaining, famous and successful careers as professionals. Arturo “Thunder” Gatti vs. “Irish” Micky Ward 1 might be the only fight I can pull from memory that exemplifies a fighter starting out as the “boxer” and ending up as the “fighter”; however you can also argue that Arturo never really relieved himself of the role of the “fighter”, Micky just sucked so much that he made Arturo look good, as if he were the “boxer”.

Here is the link to the fight, enjoy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L8KibWd2S7Y

 

 

Saga of the Boxer and the Fighter Lesson 1: Ying vs. Yang

Roy Jones Jr. (the self proclaimed “Greatest of all time” was without a doubt one of the greatest pound-for-pound boxers the sport has ever known) once said “you fight a boxer and you box a fighter.” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4CNe6K-1Tc at 22:56)

The word “boxer” might appear synonymous with “fighter” however the connotative meaning Roy Jones Jr. is implying here is not. The “boxer” and the “fighter” are like Ying and Yang in the ring, these two roles are opposites and always taken up by only one of the opposing fighters. By definition the “boxer” is the more skilled in the fight and the “fighter” is the less skilled. Don’t be mistaken, the “fighter” doesn’t necessarily lose the fight, the term just means the “fighter’s” technique is not as perfect as (the better skilled and more experienced opponent) the “boxer”.

What Roy Jones Jr. claims in his statement “…fight a boxer and you box a fighter.” is that when facing (the better skilled opponent) the “boxer”, the “fighter” (the less skilled opponent) must “fight” his opponent as opposed to “boxing” him.

The term “fight” means to keep pressure on the opponent, over whelm the “boxer” with incessant punches denying him the chance for a break and hopefully get lucky, instead of “boxing” with the “boxer”.

Here the term “boxing” refers to beating the opponent by sheer technique and skill, picking the precise punches, avoiding punches, embarrassing the opponent by counter punching him when he makes mistakes, beating the opponent in foot work, head and body movement and ultimately closing the distance then gaping it wide again at will.

Two famous examples of “fighters” beating “boxers” are Joe Frazier beating Muhammad Ali in their first bout and Micky Ward beating Arturo Gatti in their first fight as well. (The latter is an intriguing case and will be further elaborated in Lesson 2.)

When two fighters enter the ring the roles will likely emerge in the first round because during the first few exchanged punches and a mist the range-finding, the two fighters will know exactly who is more skilled. It doesn’t even take a trained eye to see which fighter has the better jab, the better head, body and feet movement, who’s punches are more precise and most importantly who’s dominating the fight (who’s following, who is leading, who’s being hit and who’s doing the hitting). Even in the event that two really skilled “boxers” face-off in the ring the better skilled and better conditioned opponent will always surface as the superior “boxer”.

For example Thomas Hearns vs. Sugar Ray Leonard 1; through out the beginning and second half (round 1 to 5 and round 7 to 12) of the fight Hearns kept hitting Sugar Ray Leonard with his stiff jab and hard right hand punches, bruising up Leonard’s face and causing his eyes to swell. By the end of the 6th round however Leonard caught Hearns with a blinding left hook on the chin that momentarily stunned Thomas Hearns; then in the 13th round Hearns took an immense quantity of devastating punches and was unable to continue, resulting in a technical knock-out victory for Sugar Ray Leonard.

I like this fight because both Hearns and Leonard are excellent boxers and are typically the superior “boxer” in every bout but when they came together in this fight Sugar Ray Leonard materialized as the “boxer” and Thomas Hearns became the “fighter”. Evidence in supporting the argument that Thomas Hearns was an excellent fighter are more noticeably in the following rounds after Leonard’s left hook (round 7 to 12); Hearns was actually able to push back and catch Leonard with some damaging punches.

Here’s the YouTube link to the full fight, I watch all fights in mute because (I’ve realized that) unless one the commentary guys are fighters they don’t really know what they’re saying.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pB6sgVOADY

Work Cited:

Jones, Roy Jr., Roy Jones Jr. vs. Virgil Hill, HBO Sports, 1998.