Post by Nathan Webb on Jun 25, 2011 0:08:46 GMT -6
The morning was young as I walked down London streets on my way to a local kickboxing gym. I was in a shorts and a t-shirt carrying my backpack with all the equipment I would need for today’s workout.
Everything was looking up not only did I put out a successful shoot in my opinion but I was also asked for an interview by the NCW staff. Whether there was a genuine interest in me or whether it was protocol for a pay per view weekend I was glad to be seeing more of the spotlight.
The shoot I put on the website the day prior gave me an aura of confidence that was a welcome change from the self doubt I had been experiencing in the weeks prior. This promo made me feel like there was no obstacle I could not overcome and despite the long odds I knew I had a very real chance I could actually win this Fatal Four Way match both cementing my place in the upper echelon of NCW as well as earning a future Honor Champion title shot.
In addition to that I also knew that even if I did lose I would not be riding off into the sunset once again with my tail tucked between my legs. I refused to let that happen again. A loss would not force me out; it would only be a set back, and I would continue to trudge on hoping to make my way through this company.
These thoughts aside I entered the kickboxing gym a little after seven in the morning hoping to build upon what I said at the promo in getting in touch with my killer instinct.
The gym was not pretty to look at. Its dirty walls and old posters showed its age while the stench of eons of body odor and spilled blood definitely smelled of it.
It was the type of gym with the bare instruments to build a man, some boxing bags, a few weights, chin-up bars and a ring in the gyms center where some amateur matches were held from time to time. It was the type of place beloved by the members of the old school and being a person who loved simplicity this is the place I wanted to be to train.
Seeing the head trainer, Mickey, working in the center of the ring with one of his apt pupils I gave him a nod as I went to a quiet corner away from everyone else to workout.
Sitting on a bench against the wall I took my shoes and socks off before grabbing my hand wraps from my bag. As I slowly and methodically put my wraps on I thought about my match and pictured myself bringing my killer instinct out and taking it to each of my three opponents. I knew I was about to take myself to places I did not want to go due to past experiences but it was necessary to face these fears if I was going to progress as wrestler. This would not be a transformation I was going to start but finding a new tool to add to my arsenal; something that I knew I could not only use on Sunday but in further matches to come.
I knew it was kind of ironic that I never thought of inflicting pain on my opponent before, this was competition to me after all, but I hadn’t. That I knew would have to change. I had to make Joe, Bob and Bates not just know but feel that I meant business. I had to make them realize that anything less then them putting me in a body bag or on a stretcher would mean that they were in for the fights of their lives.
Having finished up my preparations I got up from my bench and went to work on a heavy bag that was hanging up right in front of me mocking me. Circling the bag I let myself get into a zone; I was fearless, emotionless and had no mercy for the opponent swaying from side to side in front of me. Taking a deep breath I went to work throwing strike after strike at my opponent. I was not only seeing a bag but I was seeing the three others I was fighting against at Reborn.
I saw myself throwing punches and elbows at Bob Pooler as I had him in the corner with no where to go. Dazing him with shot after shot to the head.
I saw myself holding Joe Everyman in the clinch throwing knee after knee to his head and midsection. Depleting him of air with every strike I connected on.
I saw myself throwing kick after kick to the head of Bates. I kicked as hard as I could praying that with every shot I knocked Bates’ pompous ass out.
Every shot I landed on that bag I felt no emotion, no pain and no remorse. I wanted that bag to feel pain just like I wanted each of my opponents. They would know my name just like the rest of the roster whether they knew it now or not. I would make everyone wary of me whenever they eventually stepped into the ring with me.
Feeling ready to move on I found another heavy bag on the ground and decided that this would be my next victim. Putting the bag on my shoulder I moved to the edge of the gym. Taking another deep breath I lunged forward with my right leg, stood up, lunged with my left leg, stood up and them with all my weight slammed the bag down on the ground before mounting it and proceeding to pound the hell out of it. Lefts and Rights and a flurry of elbows went down at full speed. After several combos I got back up, picked up the bag, did two more lunges before slamming the bag down and mounting it hitting it repeatedly.
This process repeated itself several times. I went from one side of the gym to the other. Sweat covered my entire body but I did not let it bother me. I was breathing heavy but knew I had much more to give. My mouth was dry from thirst but I had no desire for water. Finally I stopped knowing it was the optimum time to do so. Leaving the heavy bag where it was I went back to my bag and grabbed the bottle of water that was in it. Taking a seat with my back against the wall I took a few sips of my now lukewarm water trying to get as cool as I could with air coming from the ceiling above me which wasn’t helping a lot if at all.
Feeling the gratification of my workout complete I found myself lost in thought thinking about the possibilities of how my match may transpire of course as I found myself in these thoughts a familiar voice sounded out right beside me.
“You look ready to put the hurt on someone.”
I snickered knowing exactly who it was. I hadn’t seen Nate Nate since I was in Sheffield and was expecting his appearance any day now.
“Just doing what I got to do. You know how it is.” I responded not bothering to look over at Nate Nate who I didn’t have to see to know he was sitting beside me smoking his usual never ending cigarette.
“So how do you feel?” he asked coming in close to me speaking in a low voice.
I snickered at the question obviously checking my resolve above all. “Well first I am hating you now with you smoking, and I’m not or I can’t rather with this being a non-smoking area.” I responded not able to resist the chance at sarcasm.
Nate Nate let out a hearty laugh. “Well what are these blokes going to do.” he said carrying on the joke. “Tell you - Hey man you got to tell your hallucination over there to put out his damn cigarette. This is a non-smoking area.”
I couldn’t help but let out the slightest of laughs but decided to answer his original question. “But to answer how I feel. I can honestly feel good when I say I feel absolutely nothing.”
“Wow, nothing really?” Nate Nate asked obviously taken aback.
“Yep nothing.” I said without missing a beat.
“Even with getting a killer instinct. You didn’t feel anything?”
“Nope I didn’t feel a damn thing.”
“Why not?” Nate Nate asked perplexed.
“You know why.” I said for the first time looking at him directly.
“Ahh,” Nate Nate said realizing what I was getting at. “Its all about Violence.”
I nodded.
“So if you don’t mind me asking…how are you going to have a killer instinct without both Violence coming back and or do it without any sort of added emotion to assist you?”
I thought a few seconds in order to make my answer clear because I was not only answering him but also myself. “Violence is all about that extreme of Violence. He was the side that was angry, full of hate and bitterness. If I keep those emotions at bay then I don’t give an excuse to show his ugly mug. As far as the lack of emotion well that is actually more complex than the Violence conundrum.”
“Please tell me.” Nate Nate said sarcastically acting like he really wanted to hear more.
I rolled my eyes listening to him act interested but going on anyway since I was already on that tangent. “The lack of emotion is all about keeping my mind on the bigger picture. If I go in there as a big ball of fire of hate and discontent then I tend to narrow my vision of everything going on around me which definitely hurts me in a Fatal Four Way where tunnel vision is definitely you worst enemy. Sure having a little anger would maybe give a little more power but it could prevent me from seeing a sucker punch coming from behind. In this match I have to eyes on top of the eyes in the back of my head and I need to keep myself from having tunnel vision.”
I paused to take a sip of water.
“In the Marine Corps we were taught to not to show any emotion when shooting our weapon, when we go to kill the enemy. We couldn’t afford to compassion or mercy when taking on the enemy. It was up for us to pull the trigger and shoot. We couldn’t think about who was in our cross hairs; who they were as a person, their families, their aspiration or dreams. It wouldn’t do anything good for us because most times they had a weapon themselves and were more than happy to pull that very trigger. Its us versus them essentially; if I didn’t kill them they would kill me.”
“Am I right to assume that this philosophy is something to be carried over to this match on Sunday.” Nate Nate asked.
“Of course.” I said nodding. “I can’t be worried about Joe Everyman and his losing streak and his desires to gain at least so momentum to the top. I can’t be worried about Bates and his losing his wife and him trying to return as a “technical wrestler,” and of course Pooler trying to reach the upper echelon of NCW like I am. I have to pull the trigger on my kicks and punches and throw them without sympathy and care for their well being because again this is me versus them. If I don’t do it then I know they will have no problem doing it to me.”
OF course as I was rambling on I didn’t notice that Nate Nate had left.
I shook my head as I got up, gathered my things and left. I had to clean up since I had an interview to go to.
Everything was looking up not only did I put out a successful shoot in my opinion but I was also asked for an interview by the NCW staff. Whether there was a genuine interest in me or whether it was protocol for a pay per view weekend I was glad to be seeing more of the spotlight.
The shoot I put on the website the day prior gave me an aura of confidence that was a welcome change from the self doubt I had been experiencing in the weeks prior. This promo made me feel like there was no obstacle I could not overcome and despite the long odds I knew I had a very real chance I could actually win this Fatal Four Way match both cementing my place in the upper echelon of NCW as well as earning a future Honor Champion title shot.
In addition to that I also knew that even if I did lose I would not be riding off into the sunset once again with my tail tucked between my legs. I refused to let that happen again. A loss would not force me out; it would only be a set back, and I would continue to trudge on hoping to make my way through this company.
These thoughts aside I entered the kickboxing gym a little after seven in the morning hoping to build upon what I said at the promo in getting in touch with my killer instinct.
The gym was not pretty to look at. Its dirty walls and old posters showed its age while the stench of eons of body odor and spilled blood definitely smelled of it.
It was the type of gym with the bare instruments to build a man, some boxing bags, a few weights, chin-up bars and a ring in the gyms center where some amateur matches were held from time to time. It was the type of place beloved by the members of the old school and being a person who loved simplicity this is the place I wanted to be to train.
Seeing the head trainer, Mickey, working in the center of the ring with one of his apt pupils I gave him a nod as I went to a quiet corner away from everyone else to workout.
Sitting on a bench against the wall I took my shoes and socks off before grabbing my hand wraps from my bag. As I slowly and methodically put my wraps on I thought about my match and pictured myself bringing my killer instinct out and taking it to each of my three opponents. I knew I was about to take myself to places I did not want to go due to past experiences but it was necessary to face these fears if I was going to progress as wrestler. This would not be a transformation I was going to start but finding a new tool to add to my arsenal; something that I knew I could not only use on Sunday but in further matches to come.
I knew it was kind of ironic that I never thought of inflicting pain on my opponent before, this was competition to me after all, but I hadn’t. That I knew would have to change. I had to make Joe, Bob and Bates not just know but feel that I meant business. I had to make them realize that anything less then them putting me in a body bag or on a stretcher would mean that they were in for the fights of their lives.
Having finished up my preparations I got up from my bench and went to work on a heavy bag that was hanging up right in front of me mocking me. Circling the bag I let myself get into a zone; I was fearless, emotionless and had no mercy for the opponent swaying from side to side in front of me. Taking a deep breath I went to work throwing strike after strike at my opponent. I was not only seeing a bag but I was seeing the three others I was fighting against at Reborn.
I saw myself throwing punches and elbows at Bob Pooler as I had him in the corner with no where to go. Dazing him with shot after shot to the head.
I saw myself holding Joe Everyman in the clinch throwing knee after knee to his head and midsection. Depleting him of air with every strike I connected on.
I saw myself throwing kick after kick to the head of Bates. I kicked as hard as I could praying that with every shot I knocked Bates’ pompous ass out.
Every shot I landed on that bag I felt no emotion, no pain and no remorse. I wanted that bag to feel pain just like I wanted each of my opponents. They would know my name just like the rest of the roster whether they knew it now or not. I would make everyone wary of me whenever they eventually stepped into the ring with me.
Feeling ready to move on I found another heavy bag on the ground and decided that this would be my next victim. Putting the bag on my shoulder I moved to the edge of the gym. Taking another deep breath I lunged forward with my right leg, stood up, lunged with my left leg, stood up and them with all my weight slammed the bag down on the ground before mounting it and proceeding to pound the hell out of it. Lefts and Rights and a flurry of elbows went down at full speed. After several combos I got back up, picked up the bag, did two more lunges before slamming the bag down and mounting it hitting it repeatedly.
This process repeated itself several times. I went from one side of the gym to the other. Sweat covered my entire body but I did not let it bother me. I was breathing heavy but knew I had much more to give. My mouth was dry from thirst but I had no desire for water. Finally I stopped knowing it was the optimum time to do so. Leaving the heavy bag where it was I went back to my bag and grabbed the bottle of water that was in it. Taking a seat with my back against the wall I took a few sips of my now lukewarm water trying to get as cool as I could with air coming from the ceiling above me which wasn’t helping a lot if at all.
Feeling the gratification of my workout complete I found myself lost in thought thinking about the possibilities of how my match may transpire of course as I found myself in these thoughts a familiar voice sounded out right beside me.
“You look ready to put the hurt on someone.”
I snickered knowing exactly who it was. I hadn’t seen Nate Nate since I was in Sheffield and was expecting his appearance any day now.
“Just doing what I got to do. You know how it is.” I responded not bothering to look over at Nate Nate who I didn’t have to see to know he was sitting beside me smoking his usual never ending cigarette.
“So how do you feel?” he asked coming in close to me speaking in a low voice.
I snickered at the question obviously checking my resolve above all. “Well first I am hating you now with you smoking, and I’m not or I can’t rather with this being a non-smoking area.” I responded not able to resist the chance at sarcasm.
Nate Nate let out a hearty laugh. “Well what are these blokes going to do.” he said carrying on the joke. “Tell you - Hey man you got to tell your hallucination over there to put out his damn cigarette. This is a non-smoking area.”
I couldn’t help but let out the slightest of laughs but decided to answer his original question. “But to answer how I feel. I can honestly feel good when I say I feel absolutely nothing.”
“Wow, nothing really?” Nate Nate asked obviously taken aback.
“Yep nothing.” I said without missing a beat.
“Even with getting a killer instinct. You didn’t feel anything?”
“Nope I didn’t feel a damn thing.”
“Why not?” Nate Nate asked perplexed.
“You know why.” I said for the first time looking at him directly.
“Ahh,” Nate Nate said realizing what I was getting at. “Its all about Violence.”
I nodded.
“So if you don’t mind me asking…how are you going to have a killer instinct without both Violence coming back and or do it without any sort of added emotion to assist you?”
I thought a few seconds in order to make my answer clear because I was not only answering him but also myself. “Violence is all about that extreme of Violence. He was the side that was angry, full of hate and bitterness. If I keep those emotions at bay then I don’t give an excuse to show his ugly mug. As far as the lack of emotion well that is actually more complex than the Violence conundrum.”
“Please tell me.” Nate Nate said sarcastically acting like he really wanted to hear more.
I rolled my eyes listening to him act interested but going on anyway since I was already on that tangent. “The lack of emotion is all about keeping my mind on the bigger picture. If I go in there as a big ball of fire of hate and discontent then I tend to narrow my vision of everything going on around me which definitely hurts me in a Fatal Four Way where tunnel vision is definitely you worst enemy. Sure having a little anger would maybe give a little more power but it could prevent me from seeing a sucker punch coming from behind. In this match I have to eyes on top of the eyes in the back of my head and I need to keep myself from having tunnel vision.”
I paused to take a sip of water.
“In the Marine Corps we were taught to not to show any emotion when shooting our weapon, when we go to kill the enemy. We couldn’t afford to compassion or mercy when taking on the enemy. It was up for us to pull the trigger and shoot. We couldn’t think about who was in our cross hairs; who they were as a person, their families, their aspiration or dreams. It wouldn’t do anything good for us because most times they had a weapon themselves and were more than happy to pull that very trigger. Its us versus them essentially; if I didn’t kill them they would kill me.”
“Am I right to assume that this philosophy is something to be carried over to this match on Sunday.” Nate Nate asked.
“Of course.” I said nodding. “I can’t be worried about Joe Everyman and his losing streak and his desires to gain at least so momentum to the top. I can’t be worried about Bates and his losing his wife and him trying to return as a “technical wrestler,” and of course Pooler trying to reach the upper echelon of NCW like I am. I have to pull the trigger on my kicks and punches and throw them without sympathy and care for their well being because again this is me versus them. If I don’t do it then I know they will have no problem doing it to me.”
OF course as I was rambling on I didn’t notice that Nate Nate had left.
I shook my head as I got up, gathered my things and left. I had to clean up since I had an interview to go to.