Combat

I have always had a fascination for combat sports. Whether it was boxing, Mixed martial arts or even wrestling at times. It was intriguing to me how it essentially just became a game where one tries to make the other give up. What also really took a while for me to wrap my head around was the loneliness of these sports. Because at the end of the day only you could win that fight and get yourself out of the ring. Nobody could come and help and if you end up having a bad day it could even cause you great injury. I think the danger within the sport is what makes it so popular. Those watching are completely scared and excited all at the same time. Yet, imagine what it would be like to be a fighter.

I assume the process would begin in a training camp where one is continuously working on their fitness, skill, and mental capacity all at one time. All while maintaining diet and sleep, still while every single distraction is right at your fingertips. That’s where the fight would begin perhaps. To fight the urge to slip out of this programme. That is when your sparring partner hits you across the face. A wake-up call, you finally remember that you are still in this ring and must train so that the fight is not as hard. The more difficult training is made possible the easier it is in the fight.

Then the day finally arrives, the night of the fight. You walk out Infront of a crowd that has paid money to watch you bleed. Walking into a ring that you know you want to leave for at least an hour or maybe never. The clock hanging from the ceiling slows down and you see that the referee and your opponent are standing right there Infront of you. The blood pressure rises. The adrenaline rises, and your brain sort of puts itself into a fight mode. You see nothing but the ring and the noises of the crowd begin to fade out. This is where the loneliness begins. Just you and someone trying to hurt you badly enough trapped in a square for the next twelve rounds.

You don’t want to throw the first hit, that would reveal too much of your plan. So, you wait. You wait for the opponent to make a move. They won’t do anything either, so all that’s there is just waiting. The noise of the crowd comes back in your ear as they criticise you and break apart every part of your fighting technique. What they came to see isn’t happening. Then just as you loosen your stance ever so slightly, your opponent decides to through a jab. Then boom, your entire orientation is gone. You hit back but not as powerfully. This exchange continues. He hits a few then you block a few. Then you hit a few and he blocks a few. In your mind, it's an even game right now but the scorers have a different thought process.

You feel the need to make an impactful stroke, so you do. You wind up and go for the uppercut. You hit. The opponent is knocked back. You go back for more hits and that is when the referee stops you. There is no more left. The fight is over. You didn’t think you had it in you to make that shot. To the outside you were confident yet still, you doubted it. Now that your opponent is knocked down and the referee is prepared to raise your hand. You look out in the crowd and still see the crowd disapproving of you. That’s where it all begins to jumble, Did you put your life on the line just for the sake of victory?