Report from the BCCMA British Nationals. My first comp.
Ok, so I just got back from the BCCMA British Nationals 2007. I have comeback with my confidence bruised, my leg injured and a silver medal in my hand (though it is somewhat of a hollow victory as you will see as you read on.)
The day started early as I met my fellow team mates first thing in the morning in a motorway service station. Spirits were high and we were able to sit and relax for half an hour before embarking on the last leg of the journey. We arrived and got registered and weighed in, I was due to enter the Sanda and Qinda and had put myself in for the under 70kg. I didn't bother cutting and made the weight easily, on reflection I could have easily made it down to 65kg.
My reasoning for doing the qinda (light continuos) as well as the sanda (full contact) was that the qinda, assuming it was first, would work as a nice warm up and get rid of any nervousness. Unfortunately it wasn't first.
After a quick bout on the pads and a good stretch, I was suddenly thrown in the fighting area and opposite my opponent. I should note that I was not at all nervous at this point, though my opponent was clearly physically bigger than me, I felt well trained and well conditioned and ready for anything that my opponent could throw at me.We bow to the judges and the round starts. I throw a kick to midsection as he throws a round kick to support leg, then he throws a huge cross which catches me full force in the face. I go down. I was so rocked but my body jumped straight back up. At this point, within 10 seconds, I realised I could not win this fight. My opponent has very heavy hands.
The round is called to continue, my legs feel like lead and I, out of dissillusion and British grit, chase my opponent down and flail at his head, he circles round and I chase him down again, he catches me with a couple of hooks to the head, I keep going and round kick to his torso, he bends over and I shoot for a sloppy double leg, he sprawls and we are serperated.
We restart and he has his hands low, I throw a lead high kick which catches him in the face. I hear a crack, I hesitate, I see his is stunned, my body freezes and I see him breath deep in an effort to suck up the pain. Suddenly he is back in the fight and looks pissed. He throws a hook which I catch on my gloves, for fear of his hands I shoot for a takedown, he spins and tries to throw me out but I manage to clinch on and take him with me.
We restart once again. He throws a low kick which falls short. He feints a round kick, follows through and spins into a right cross, it snaps my head back and I don't see the left hook which sends me to the mat. I stand up and we continue, I keep charging forward, I throw some unconvincing kicks and a haymaker, nothing connects. He throws a telegraphed side kick which I see coming and avoid , he once again spins into a cross, I cover up and again fail to see the hook which sends me to the mat. I fall in the fetal position, for a moment I lay there, my head ringing. I take longer to get up this time and referee looks concerned, but I am able to convince him that I am able to continue. We continue, my opponent fakes a low kick and spins into a hook but I duck and it only glances my head.
Then comes the end of the fight, I stand like a rabbit in the headlights as my opponent throws a huge round kick at my left calf muscle, I feel something pop and for the last time I drop to the mat. I know I can't possibly fight but something tells me to get up, my leg visably buckles as I try to stand but I peservere and hold my gloves up for the referee, he continues to count. I say I can fight, he tells me my eyes aren't focusing and my legs are wobbley. He waves his arms and signals the end of the fight, just seconds before the end of the first round. My heart drops and I feel ashamed, but as I walk back to my corner my agonising limp tells me he did the right thing.
I have no idea what is wrong with my calf, but it seems to pop when i put weight on it, very painful. My girlfriend and my coach spent some time massaging it, but I ended up not being able to walk on it and thus could not compete in the qinda. The rest of the day was spent accepting gracious sympathies and wisdoms and cheering on and helping my teammates in their respective events.
The medals for the sanshou were awarded and as I was the only other fighter in my weight class I was awarded the silver. I felt like a fraud on the podium but did my best to smile through it. As my opponent and I left the podium we spoke about the fight. He looked at me guiltily and explains that it was unfair of them to match us up together. He tells me that he has been training all of his life and had competed in 58 full contact fights with only one loss and all 57 wins via KO. He appologises for my injury and tells me I did well, we shake hands.
Upon hearing all of this I suddenly don't feel so bad about accepting that silver, still not something to brag about but there is some pride to be had there.
The most valued thing I learned from the day was the importance of support. Support from coach, teammates, girlfriends, wherever, without them I would be nothing.
Wow, let us know what the doctor says when you go get checked out.
Sounds like a massive load of pain, got vid?:XXphyhsas
Propz bro, it's cool to know you held your own against a much bigger and experienced opponent. Great job.
Don't think it's doctor worthy. It just needs to heal up, so i'm just gonna rest it.
Originally Posted by PizDoff
edit: I will upload the video at some point.
Plural on the girfriends? All busted up and still pimpin'? You learn fast, young jedi...
Originally Posted by seanyseanybean
Props mate, better luck next time!
Do you know your opponents name?. From the vid it looked like namyang, which I assume it must be as they took 7 golds. Cant really see but it may of been Nicholas Evagorou (but I thought he was heavier), who is one of the best san da fighters in england and competes in world comps often. I think I see my old mate Vic in that vid who also got gold and used to try and knock me out regularly, with some success. From that footwork it does look like its one of the epsom namyang fighters.
Dont worry about it though, I got my ass kicked at nationals a few years back. Then we all got pissed on the busride home, safe to say we had to rinse the inside of the van with water before we returned it.
Geez if that was the qinda, what was your san da like?!?!
Originally Posted by EternalRage
Originally Posted by seanyseanybean
Single Sign On provided by vBSSO