Every one of the events I went through in my life, good or bad, shaped and molded me. My good nature, respectful approach toward people, mental strength, and never-say-die attitude are all attributable to my upbringing and milestones in life. We all have a story; we all have a battle to fight and goals that we are striving for in the rat race of life. I had many forces pulling me to martial arts and pushing me to uncover the mixed martial arts (MMA) world as I set out in search for the truth.
Why do we do this? What is it that draws us to something that can hurt us? Why do we deliberately put ourselves in the path of danger? What makes us different from so many others? I believe that this is rooted in the many layers of both the psyche and the heart. The same questions can be posed to great soldiers that volunteer to participate in wars around the world, fighting for our freedom. From the adrenaline junkie to the deep camaraderie built within your team, you give time, sweat, and blood for the mats. There is respect and a bond with your opponent, regardless of whether you win or lose. They too had a path that led them to stare at you once the buzzer or bell rings; you will both leave it all in the fight to see who is better that day. The feeling of getting that win and of having all those bumps and aching muscles pays off. Finally reaching the top of the mountain makes it all worthwhile.
So, I ask you: what is your fight? What is your place in life? Truly ponder this question; use it and the humility of martial arts to create a better you, whether it be with your family, your friends, your work, or anything else. Let it take over your thoughts and use it to set those goals that you can systematically achieve over time. By the time you reach the final chapter of this book, you will see that these processes hold true for some of the best in the world. I’ve traveled the world to train in many areas of mixed martial arts with some of the world’s greatest names and champions. Their stories are shared here.
This is a journey that, as a fan, makes me giddy with excitement. I have done my best to shed light on these people that we idolize on television, along with detailing who they actually are, how they train, why they train, and what they do to be the best. Peer into them as individuals as well as martial artists. I sought the answers to the questions posed above and attempted to uncover the information that every fan wants to know. I also trained myself as I prepared for fights and competitions, rolling and sparring with the best, changing cities, even countries in search of the best fighters, coaches, and gyms the world has to offer. I invite you to take this journey with me. I am prepared to fight—no one has said that life is a bed of roses, right?
Chapter Three
THE DOG DAYS OF SUFFERING
“If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put foundations under them.”
—Henry David Thoreau
There I stood, hunched over the dirty yellow railing, hypnotized through the smoke by the automated movements of expensive welding robots. Despite the treacherous locale, I was mesmerized by the solitude of my thoughts when I was ripped back into reality. “Hey, Chris. Let’s go.” It was my close friend Jeff Phillips, keeping an eye on me so that I would not get reprimanded by the lazy supervisors if they happened to leave their air conditioned bear cave offices, as they did once in a blue moon. “Here we go,” I motioned as I turned back to the production line. Looking at the truck frame that this robotic pulley line fed us from a seemingly never-ending supply, I had the duty of inspecting and patching up all holes, imperfections, and/or deficiencies in the frame.
No customer wanted to buy an award-winning heavy-duty truck only to have the part of the truck that needed to be the strongest fail due to human error. Picking up the weld gun in heat in excess of 100°F (40°C), wearing my mandatory long-sleeved uniform, work boots, heavy gloves, and a welding helmet, I welded 380 to 450 frames in one shift. I took a deep breath and thought to myself, “Man, there’s got to be more to life than this crap!” Given the forty-five-minute drive to and from work and the dreaded midnight shift that I was privileged to work, I was like a zombie living in a hell on Earth.
I thanked Jeff, palmed the button to let the frame proceed down the never-ending line, and went back to the railing, which, sadly, was my safety zone where I could talk to Jeff; this was one aspect that helped make work better. Jeff was 5' 11" with dirty-brown hair, and he did well with the ladies. A world of knowledge was hidden within his eyes, and a very friendly demeanor made him the popular guy. He was one of my best friends, and was a self-made man to say the least. When he had an idea, he dreamed big and went for it, regardless the thousands of miles or obstacles he had to surpass in order to accomplish his goals.
He had traveled the world, and I do not mean that he stayed at five-star hotels, but in the jungles of Thailand riding on elephants and the wild rainforests of Costa Rica for months on end. He, too, viewed our current employer in the same light; it was great for a lot of people, and we could not complain about the wages or benefits. When it came right down to it, that’s what kept us there, but we felt like wild birds that needed to soar and capture prey to feed our innate animal instincts. Instead, we were completely locked in a cage in which we could not even stretch our wings.
There I was, standing in a factory, not pleased with the work or safety of the place, and I would learn that things could operate better. I read about a massive union, called LIUNA, that encompassed over 500,000 members in North America and ran like a well-oiled machine, covering the construction and waste management sectors. I had learned that they actually cared for their members, as business manager for local 1059 Jim MacKinnon would later tell this author, “We listen carefully to our members’ needs, our representatives have direct connections to the many new Canadians that form our union. We are very pragmatic and work closely with our signatory employers for the health, wellness, financial remuneration, pensions, and benefits that our members need.”
They ran a tight ship, in contrast to what I was used to, and safety was paramount. While we received our training for welding at the factory out of a barn (yes a barn!), LIUNA on the other hand had state-of-the-art buildings to train their members. They also would give back to the community, as Jim added, “Ontario locals give between one and two million dollars per year to charitable organizations and also perform work with their members for charities.” There was contrast in safety, unions, and production, but I did not know any better.
Jeff told me that he had been planning a big, three-month endeavor to Thailand. He read books about Buddhism and travel during lulls while we waited for the next frame to arrive. He told me about the culture, land, people, and scenery, and about Muay Thai. I was mesmerized by a world so different from the one we were used to, which consisted of work, my beautiful wife (fiancée-to-be at the time, who kept me sane), television, and the incessant day-in, day-out cycle. Here was something new and revitalizing, something that captured my imagination, and I ran with it a mile a minute. He told me about his plans for a trip into the jungle where he would ride elephants, ride down the river on floats constructed of bamboo, and reach an Indian village that 99.9% of the outside world had never ventured to.
He then started to tell me about Muay Thai, the art of eight limbs, where you may box or kick box, and if that is not enough, you can use your sharp elbows and knees to release a melee of strikes on your opponent. He told me that Muay Thai originated in Thailand and that kids, bred to be fighters, could have over 100 fights already under their belt by the age of fifteen!
I knew a little bit about the sport, as I had been watching the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) since the first event when Royce Gracie did the unthinkable by winning a tournament in no-holds-barred fighting when he was the skinniest competitor, representing the art of Brazilian jiu-jitsu against many other forms of martial arts and against some bigger, more muscular guys. I remember being young, still living in Toronto and watching the first UFC fight, glued to the TV. Being a fan of professional wrestling since I was able to watch television, it was natural to transition into a fan of mixed martial arts in which any martial art was fair game in competition, including Muay Thai.
I vividly remember driving home that morning