Sometimes you just have to let it out. . .

I already made some posts about last Friday and what happened at Victory VII.  I needed time to collect my thoughts, let the events of the past few months sink in, and fully process WHAT THE FUCK happened during the fight.

Let's take a trip back to when the fight was offered.  I was asked if I wanted to fight in November.  I said "Sure."  I was then told it was going to be the first ever MMA fight at Madison Square Garden (Theater is still the Garden, haters).  My answer did not change.  I was happy to fight in the Garden or Terminal 5 or any other venue.  I was humble enough to know this event was far more important, regardless of my participation, then I could imagine.  I was just happy to get a fight before the end of the year and continue the winning which began in April.  I did not train any differently for this fight compared to any other fight because to me this was just like all those other fights.  It's me and my opponent, in a cage/ring, trying to win, then smile a little wider after all is said and done.  The venue is inconsequential.  I was honored to be asked and happily worked my ass off to put on a great show.  It paid off.

Training camp was rough.  Not because anything drastic changed at C3 but because my life changed so much since the last fight.  I was recovering from an injury that put me out of training and into sedation for about a month.  I got married and started my master's degree.  I would work my full time job, go to training, come home, kiss my wife, and pretty much pass out to do it all over again the next day.  That's the simple version cause you don't need to know the gritty details.  It was all worth it.

The day of the fight was normal.  Thoughts of how much I hated this process followed by reminding myself that nothing feels better than standing there victorious in the center of the ring.  Hatred and self doubt would constantly present themselves but I was never "nervous" like you normal people always ask.  It is a different feeling.  Nervous is the closest word we have to the feeling but it's still so far off the mark.  I liken it to arguing with myself over not doing something I want to do and both sides trying to convince the other they are right.

"This guy is going to kick your ass, you can fake an injury and get out of it."

"Are you serious?  I could never live with myself if I did that.  Are you that much of a coward?"

"No, I am just saying, this could end really badly.  Are you ready for that?"

"FUCK yes I am.  Why do you think I have been training so long.  I am better prepared and better all around.  No way I lose this!  Also, we can't bow out now.  Too many people are counting on us."

"Shit, you are right.  Guess we just gotta do it."

Those arguments are plentiful leading up to the fight.  The main difference is this.  As the fight draws closer, that "other guy" is changed or killed.  All the self doubt bleeds away, with every step I take to the ring, until none of it remains and I stand there, in front of my opponent.  I am battle ready.

The fight is always a whirlwind.  Punches, throws, kicks, submission attempts, sweat, blood, saliva.  It's hectic.  This time was different.  It took a nice solid punch to wake me up.  I liked it and I knew it was all worth it.

I don't sit down in between rounds.  No need.  I breathe better standing up and can hear my coaches better that way.  I say, "Fuck stools."  Three legged bastards.  Chair wannabes.

The second round starts and we trade some blows before getting clinched up along the ropes.  I go for a belly to belly throw and lose position.  He ends up on top and while he goes to punch me I trap his arm and start the arm bar setup, throwing my leg around his head.  I keep my ankles locked, for what reason I have no idea, and work to secure the sub.  I hear Cesar tell me to uncross my ankles to free my leg to smash his head.  I happily oblige.  How can I hear him so clearly?  Fuck it, I have work to do.  My leg slams to behind his head, just as instructed.  I elevate my hips.

Because we are really close to the ropes the referee keeps telling us to watch them.  He even asks if we can move away from them.  Sorry dude, I'm busy trying to rip this guys arm off as he's trying to get it free to bludgeon my face with his fist.  Check back in a bit.  OK?

I feel the ref come in and hear him instruct us break.  I thought we got tangled in the ropes and we are being restarted in the center.  Then I realize something.  He tapped.  I made my opponent tap via armbar.  HOLY SHIT!!!  I have won before but this way better than winning.  I controlled my destiny.  I ended the fight on my terms.  Terms I had set for myself throughout this entire fight camp.

"You will end this fight.  It will not go the distance.  That is your goal."

The rest of the night is a blur of congratulations from friends and family (my stepmother who swore she would never watch me fight came, kinda huge for me) followed by watching more fights and letting it all sink it.  It took a few days but I can say the following with conviction.

Thank you.

Thank you to Victory Combat Sports for setting up this historical event.  Kevin, Eddie, and everyone associated with the production, you are all a part of something truly special.

Thank you to my opponent, Hassan Hope.  He made weight and fought honorably.  He brought the pain with a some good shots.  Without him there might not have been a fight at all.  Thanks for staying healthy, training smart, and showing that you don't need to make money at this to have a professional attitude.  Much respect.

Thank you to my training family.  You are my brothers and sisters, past and present.  We became family faster than some people become friends.  It's awesome, I know.  You beating me up and pushing me helped me get this victory.  I share it with you.

Thank you to Roger and Cesar, my main coaches.  You have helped me become a more well rounded fighter than I ever though possible.  I look forward to our journey together, where ever it takes us.

Thank you to Sean, Omar, Joey, Stephane, John, Jason, Davey, Rob and everyone else who gave me specific guidance during these past few months.  I tried to put it all to use in the fight but there wasn't enough time!

Thank you to Pun and Steve at Fight the City and Rich at Murphy's Townhouse Cafe for sponsoring me.  You made me feel "big time."

Thank you to my friends and family.  You paid to see me fight and I hope you all enjoyed it.  Regardless of the outcome I only want you to be entertained.  Without you buying tickets and supporting me who knows if I would have been asked to fight on this event or any others down the line.

Finally, thank you Jennifer.  You are amazing.  You have done what all the previous parties have done and then some.  You encourage me, coach me (the girl knows her shit!), push me, question me, and support me (financially and emotionally) ON A DAILY BASIS.  If I did not have you at home dealing with all my bullshit (there's a lot- TRUST ME) then I would not be able to focus on the task at hand.  I love having you be proud of me.

With all this being said I am taking some time off from fighting.  NOT FROM TRAINING.  I am not quitting nor retiring (sorry Dad and Kathy).  I just need to focus my efforts on school, work, and my family.  I don't know how long it will be so please come to me with challenges and fights you think are entertaining.  Who knows, I may take you up on one.

I may be an intellectual, a student, "a crazy," and a loudmouthed asshole but you can just call me one thing...

A FIGHTER.

Cutting Weight

Cutting weight is never fun but this time was a little out of the ordinary.  I do A LOT of research on nutrition and weight cutting so that I can do it safely and easily.  I started camp at 193.5 pounds.  I know because I recorded it, along with pictures, to chart my progress.  The real fun came on Thursday, November 20, the day of weigh ins.  My parents have a jacuzzi bathtub and sauna in their house.  Why?  Who knows, they are nuts and I love them.  This is a much better set up than my little apartment to cut weight.  I have done it before but I wanted this time to be easier and less thinking about logistics.  I took the 40 minute drive to Ridgefield and arrived at 8:30 AM day of weigh ins.  I had to leave at 4:00 PM to make it to MSG for weigh ins at 6:00 PM.  I started by filling the tub with hot water, seriously hot water.  I got in and soaked for about 60 minutes, on and off.  I got out and checked my weight- down 2 pounds to 162.5.  Not bad.  Drained a little of the water out and filled it up with hot water again.  While it was filling up I got in the sauna to keep the sweat going.  Its easier than bundling up in sweats and a comforter and just laying down.  I checked the water level after a few minutes but noticed something unsettling.  The water in the tub, and coming out of the hot faucet, was COLD.  The water heater had run out of hot water.  SHIT.  Guess I am only going to hit this mark using the sauna.  Here's the thing. . . I HATE THE SAUNA.  Its miserable.  But I do not miss weight.  To me that is the most dishonorable thing you can do as an amateur, maybe even a professional.  Its the first indication you are not taking this fight seriously.  I digress.

I thought that if I could lose a pound an hour I would be able to just make the weight.  I hit the sauna for 30 minutes, off and on.  I checked my weight- down .2.  Not good, not good at all.  I needed hot water and I needed it fast.  I MacGyvered my own hot water by filling pots with water and boiling them on the stove.  Thankfully we are Italian and have some pretty big pots for Sunday Pasta dinners.  Every 20 minutes I would transfer the boiling water to the tub and start boiling new water on the stove.  I would soak and do the transfer all over again.  It was working, I was ahead of schedule, by about an hour and a half.  Nice, I am the fucking man.

Just because I prefer the hot bath to sauna does not mean it is a cake walk.  It still sucks.  I cool off in between baths by dunking my head under the coldest water from the shower.  I do this after one soak and UH OH the water won't shut off.  Yeah, they shower broke and now the water won't shut off.  So I take about 30 minutes and shut the water off in the house, via various valves, and resume my super awesome fun time of cutting weight.  1.5 hour buffer is down to 1 hour.  I soon realize, SHIT I LEFT MY WALLET AT HOME.  There goes another 40-45 minutes depending on traffic to pick that up.  I really hope it is in the pants I wore yesterday cause I do not have the mental capacity to think about where it could be if not in my black jeans.  Seriously, everything sounds like I am underwater because my body hates what I am putting it through and is shutting down all non essential functions.  Apparently hearing well is non essential.  Thanks body, I'll remember that for the future.

Long story longer, I get on weight (154.5 when I leave my parents' house).  Drive home to get my wallet from my pants (wallets are lazy and pretty much stay where you leave them, thankfully).  Then hit the road to MSG.  I make it in time to fill out some forms with my dehydrated handwriting (which I would love analyzed by an expert someday) and make weight before doing promo pictures with my opponent.  I thanked him for making weight, letting him know how much I appreciated it.  He echoed my feelings on the subject.

Now its time for the fun part!!!  See you FRIDAY!