Bang.

Last night, I fought my first Muay Thai bout. Here's the play by play.

Last week I asked one of the trainers, who is also the camp's fight promoter, to set me up with a fight for the last week of August. That would've been pretty close to 3 months here, so I figured it would be good timing for my first fight. For those of you who don't know, I've had a few years of experience in other martial arts and a couple black belts to show for it, so I'm not totally new to the idea of punching and kicking, but I've never had a real fight in a ring before last night. In any case, Den agreed to get me a fight at the end of August. A short while later that day, I heard him approach one of our more experienced falang (foreign) fighters, Josh, and ask if he would be willing to fight the following tuesday. (This was wednesday last week.) A few minutes after that, Josh came up to me and asked if I would like to fight the following tuesday. I was a little bit surprised, since Josh and I are not on the same level at all, and are in no way interchangeable as fighters. Josh made a good case for taking the fight though.

It was going to be at Loi Kroh, which, out of the three boxing stadiums in Chiang Mai, is not the one that hosts the toughest fights or toughest fighters. (That honor goes to Gawilla, the largest stadium in northern Thailand.) So my opponent would be, in Josh's words, "someone you can beat." Also, it's one thing to train and it's another to fight. You learn a lot through training, but a fight teaches you what you REALLY need to work on to get better. And since I'm going to be here for another month or two, fighting sooner would give me a chance to learn more, and apply it in another fight or two before I leave Thailand. So, I decided, what the hell. I'll do it. (That was also my response when Noom, who runs my hostel, challenged me to go bungy jumping with him a few weeks ago, but that's another story.)

So I agreed to do the fight, and I was actually much more excited than I was scared. After all, having a real fight in the ring in Thailand was what I had wanted to do for almost ten years. It's the main event, the focus of all my training. It's where I would find out if I had the guts and the heart stand toe to toe with a Thai boxer and put what I'd learned into play. Did I have what it takes? The years of wondering were over. I was going to find out. Even if I got my ass kicked, I'd still find out. So I can't say I was too scared, but I was burning to find out what it was really like.

The rest of the week passed without incident. I trained hard and focused on technique, especially my leg blocks. In Muay Thai kicks are allowed to pretty much every area of the body except the back and the groin, and like many inexperienced falang, I'm not the quickest or most consistent about protecting my legs from from low kicks. Not coincidentally, low kicks to the legs are a favorite weapon of most Thais who fight falang boxers. I was reminded by my head trainer, Andy, that I needed to work on that area of defense and I took it to heart. As it turned out, Andy wouldn't be able to see my fight, as he was taking one of our other fighters down to Bangkok for her fight (no, not a typo. HER fight. Yes, she's very good. Yes, she can probably kick your ass.) However, he turned out to be spot on with this assessment of my upcoming fight. After doing some padwork with him on Sunday, he told me to work on guarding leg kicks, since I would get them a lot. (True.) He also told me that my punches were strong and accurate, and that I should use them often. (I followed that advice to good effect later on.)

So the night of the fight arrived. I bought a big bottle of Jonnie Walker Black as a reward for after the fight. I jumped into the pickup with my Thai contingent from the gym and headed to the fight venue. Normally a bunch of falang who also train at my gym would come and watch, but I was the only one fighting tonight and it was kind of last minute, so I didn't have a lot of people from my gym there. Fine by me, since I just wanted to focus on the fight, which was at Loi Kroh stadium. Loi Kroh is not actually a stadium, in fact. It's an official boxing ring surrounded by bars. In between fights ladyboys (transvestites) step into the ring to do burlesque shows, and there's plenty of Thais and foreigners watching fights, playing pool, and drinking. It's not exactly a hyper-competitive fighting arena of herculean warriors obliterating each other with blows powerful enough to shake the pillars of the cosmos. But the fights are the real deal. And the fact that it was Mother's Day here in Thailand meant that most of the baars were closed and shut, which gave the whole thing a sort of dark feel to it. Or maybe I just thought that since I was about to possibly get the beating of my life.

I was not aware that mine was the last (and heaviest, by weight category) fight of the night. I was aware that on the fight flyer, my name was "Czech" and also the fellow whose picture they used to represent me, is not, in fact, me. Apparently I was also fighting for some sort of international title. What you should take away from this is that fight promoters will put just about anything on these flyers to get falang to come and watch/bet on/get drunk at Muay Thai fights, short of "free beer and backrubs!" I went through the whole pre-fight process, full rubdown with boxing liniment and other magic potions while laying on a mat on the concrete at the back of the crowd, incredible tape job on my hands that basically turned them into clubs, and a little warm-up to get the blood flowing. Then there was nothing to do but wait. I was torn between watching the fight before me or just looking away and trying to relax. In the end I did a bit of both.

Finally, it was my time. My trainer, Den, put the mongkon (ceremonial head-piece) on me and said a small prayer. I stepped to the ring with Den and my cornermen and stepped inside. This was it. I was in the ring. It was at this time that I finally got to see who my opponent was. My heart sank to see that while he was a good deal shorter, he was also a good deal stouter, with thickly muscled legs. I knew immediately that my legs were toast and I was going to have to throw plenty of punches. My idea of throwing lots of kicks, thus proving that I am not the the typical falang punch crazy fighter, took a back seat. I took a walk around the ring and bowed to the judges (no "Ram Muay," or ceremonial pre-fight dance, for this beginner thanks very much,) and went back to my corner. Den took off my mongkon and told me to do my best. In went my mouthguard, and into the center of the ring I went to face my opponent and have the ref give us the schpeal. The bell went, the Thai smiled at me, we touched gloves, and the fight was on.

Muay Thai fights are five rounds each, unless the fight is stopped due to knockout, injury, invading space aliens, or whatever. The rounds are three minutes long, with a two minute break in between. The first round is usually fought at a slower pace, as the two fighters feel each other out for strengths and weaknesses. As predicted, he started with leg kicks, which I managed to block most of. The block basically consists of me raising the leg he's trying to hit, so that I get it in the shin and not the thigh. If you think getting hit in the shin hurts (and it does,) go ahead and have someone swing the lower part of their shin as hard as they can into the area of your thigh just north of your kneecap. Let me know how that turns out for you. Anyways, I threw a few punches but he didn't want to box very much. Lots of teeps, which are sort of like straight jabs with the leading leg, to keep me away. Then he'd throw in leg kicks.

I was told by Den during the first break to throw more combinations, and hit him a lot harder in general. This guy doesn't have the heart to really fight, Den said. More power. So the second round started with me walking right into him and throwing lots of leather, much to the delight of the crowd. (Lots of falang, even a few guys from Virginia. Shout out to Virginia, way to cheer me on guys!) My shins were already killing me from the kicks I'd thrown so I tried to get more into punch combos in the second round, though I did have a nice fake that ended in me slamming my left shin into his left side. My kicks were not extraordinarily powerful but they were pretty quick. I was already starting to get a little winded, however, and his constant teep kicks were keeping me from closing in and hammering him with punches. Eventually I decided his teep kick was softer than hot butter and just started walking into him. It was clear the man did not want to box - his punches didn't have any power and he couldn't keep his hands up to defend against mine. I threw in some kicks now and then but the old one-two/jab-cross combo was becoming my bread and butter fast.

After round 2 Den pointed out that the guy didn't have the heart to really beat me. More combos, and not just jab-cross. Use my hooks, uppercuts, longer combos, not just one two. Protect your legs and throw those combos. I went into round 3 in some pain, but determined to step in and do some damage. He kept going for low kicks but I'd had enough of that and started nailing him with hooks to the jaw. He still couldn't get his hands up and paid for it. The crowd got pretty noisy as I staggered him with a left right punch, high kick to the head combo and after that I pretty much had to chase him. He was starting to get a little woozy, I could tell, as he clearly was just moving away as much as he could, and not in a very straight line either. I chased him for a bit, then stepped in with a big left hook that turned him around and had him leaning on the ropes. The ref stepped over to him to give him a standing 8-count and I stepped to the center of the ring. "Raise your hands!" Den yelled from my corner. I did, and was rewarded with a wave of approval from the smallish but highly vocal crowd. A few moments later the ref called the fight, came over and raised my arms in victory. I had won the fight!

I bowed to the judges and had some water. My cornerman, a young boxer from my camp, asked me how I felt. "Good," was all I could think to say. As I stepped out I got lots of congratulations and requests for pictures from all the falang who'd seen the fight. I even posed for a photo with some guy and my opponent together. (I'd like to point out that the guy I fought was a tremendously good sport and was almost always smiling between rounds when we tapped gloves.) All the attention was actually a little bit weird. Though I'd won, I hadn't exactly done it with style or grace, but I guess that wasn't so apparent to people who don't know the sport that well. Anyways, I thanked Sheryl and Noom from my hostel, Spicythai, for taking pictures (thanks guys!) and at that point I started to feel the incredible pain beginning to break through from the subsiding adrenaline. I had hurt myself kicking him, as well as taking kicks, and it was all starting to roll in. Tape off, shirt on, back in the pickup truck.

Later, back at the hostel, folks were very kind in bringing me food, ice, a glass for my scotch, and assorted sundries. I have to say that despite the muscle relaxants, ibuprofen, and 5-6 shots of whiskey, the pain was absolutely immense. It felt as if portions of my bones had been indented, or rounded off. Walking was complete agony. Just sitting there hurt so bad I had to laugh, the other alternative being sobbing. So I chatted with the other hostel folks who'd seen the fight and tried to be a tough guy about it. It worked ok. I was able to fall sleep in any case. I recalled a funny quote I read in a book somewhere that "beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy." If that's true then whiskey is the most satisfying theological argument out there right now.

So did I get what I came for? Did I, like, find out what lurks in the depths of my soul, or some junk like that? I don't really know. I know what I need to work on to get better at this, and I know that I have the heart to do it. I also know that I'm only going to do it for a short while longer, maybe a month or two. And I'll have one more fight before I go. I do look forward to finally seeing the states again, but I think another fight is in order to sort of seal the deal with this mission. I want to see if I can really improve and do a better job than the first time. I guess that's about all I can say right now, except that I am now finally ready to pick a date and BUY A PLANE TICKET TO COME HOME.

And when I know that date, I'll post it here. Thanks for reading! I hope you're all doing swimmingly.