2/23/2009 3:38pm, #801
- Join Date
- Jul 2003
Can y'all please take any "I hit on girls lol" discussion to a seperate thread? I don't want to make MBG's awesome thread any harder to browse than it already is.
2/23/2009 3:54pm, #802
- Join Date
- Jun 2008
2/25/2009 3:25am, #803
- Join Date
- Feb 2009
[quote=MrBadGuy;1722381]Self Taught Part One: Wing chun
It was long, and hard. I didn't know if I could take it all, but I tried.
Sorry, this is as far as I have gotten thus far... just thought this was funny. Seems some sort of staff experience or long, hard forms are all over MrBadGuy's posts.
2/25/2009 12:58pm, #804
Forever Fat Act Three Part Four: Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed
And so my training continued; in a blissful care free manner I trained Jiu jitsu three times a week, sparring often and with great vigor, and enjoying every moment of it. One day, the instructor has an announcement to make at the beginning of class...
"Hey guys, so, in about a month there's going to be belt testing."
Holy crap. The idea of a belt test makes my heart go aflutter; I'd become so used to the idea of being a blue belt I forgot that one can advance in rank.
"Big football guy, canadian guy, married guy, married woman, and random whitebelts, you've all been coming for a while and doing well, so I think it's time for you to test again."
My heart breaks ever so slightly. To be fair, I'd been out of training for years. It was only fair for me to have to wait till the next test. I wasn't some kind of super grappling genius who can stop for two years, start up, and expect to get promoted again-
"Oh, and Mr. Bad Guy, I think you've shaken off all the rust. You should go too."
A ray of sunshine descends upon my broken heart instantly mending it, and I train hard that night. The test date is revealed to be roughly a month away, and that we should be prepared in terms of both technique and sparring ability. I can hardly wait.
On top of that, the first Houston Throwdown is announced to be the weekend after the belt test! I can hardly wait. I'll get to meet all the Houston bullies with my shiny new promotion still fresh on my waist!
The monday before the test Rowdy Ol' Bluebelt and I have turned the intensity knob to 12. I'm passing his guard, and he throws me in an armlock. I begin to spin out of it to continue my guard passing. I do not spin out of it. Pop.
Oh crap, pop? Seriously?
I immediately begin tapping, but he has already let go. "Dude, did your arm just pop?", he asks. "Yea, it does that all the time", I ingeniusly lie. We continue sparring, but a feeling of dread sits in the back of my head. This is going to hurt like hell tomorrow. What about the test? What about the throwdown? WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!?
My feelings of panic are exacerbated by the pain in my elbow. I expected it to have just a sore joint feeling in the morning and be okay, but it was hurting on the drive home. Maybe it was more serious than I thought.
I arrive home and pretend everything is fine. The last thing I need is my mom freaking out. Late at night I smuggle an ice pack with me, prop it up on some pillows, and pray.
The next morning it aches and hurts to move it. I make it a point to try and do as little heavy lifting as possible with that arm, and try to keep it elevated. I was conflicted about whether or not I should still attempt the test. It would be months before the next test. But if I made a bad enough showing, would that be worse than having to wait? My thoughts turned inward, ignoring everything, even the office buzz about Tropical Storm Ike being upgraded to Hurricane status.
I skipped training that night, and the next night. My arm healing took complete priority. I briefly entertained the thought going to the doctor, but that would entail A) Admitting I was hurt, B) Admitting to other people I was hurt, and C) Going to the doctor.
And what about the throwdown? I had so many plans for that throwdown, and so many people to meet. On top of the other Houston bullies, there was a "Tharuz" character who kept bragging about his abilities that I wanted to test.
The thursday before the test. My arm was slightly better, but it still hurt. I doubt I could seriously spar with anyone at that point. Only two days remained; how much more could I recover in two days? It was my own damn fault too. I should've just tapped. Was my ego really so big that I couldn't tap during a training session? While I had learned a valuable lesson in humility, I had learned it far too late. I was going to do crappy at the test, and probably crappy at the Throwdown. The bullshido people would laugh at me for my crappy showing, and ask me if I had self taught BJJ too. I wallowed in despair.
I showed up to work the next day. I tried to think of a solution to my situation, but there wasn't one. I was, to put it simply, boned.
The door was locked.
What the hell? My boss was such an asshole, it would take an act of god to shut work down. What was going on?
I returned home to find out that there was a Hurricane on the way.
As it turns out, a once meager Tropical Storm Ike and turned into Big Bastard Hurricane Ike, and was coming straight for Houston. If work was shut down, I wondered...
Yes! The gods of good luck had stopped shitting on my head long enough to grant me a smidgen of good forturne! The belt test had been shoved back two weeks because of this hurricane! Most excellent. Perhaps I'd even be healed up enough to not suck at the throwdown!
Now normally if one is told a Hurricane is coming, they crouch in fear. However, the previous year, Hurricane Rita had been foretold to bring the end of days, when in fact it didn't even rain on my house. Most likely this Hurricane Ike would be nothing but a push over, and everything would turn out well for ol' Mr. Bad Guy.
Nothing ever turns out well for Mr. Bad Guy.
Hurricane Ike was not a push over like previous hurricanes. It knocked the power, cable, and even water out for my area for two weeks. There was no gas, no cold groceries, hell, no grocery stores were even open for a full week afterwards. Luckily my stores of food from the previous hurricane/predicted end of times was plentiful. Spam for breakfast, a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, and canned meat and vegetables for dinner.
The hurricane tortured me both mentally and physically. I sat around doing nothing all day, and the sweltering heat of Houston made it hard to sleep. The constant sweating from the heat and the lack of water meant I smelled like a homeless guy that had rolled around in something he saw in the road.
What I had perceived to be lady luck's womanly embrace was actually Guy Badluck ramming me yet again. I missed the Houston throwdown thanks to this shitty hurricane. I was to be without power and water for a full 3 weeks. Hurricane Ike had slammed Houston harder than Daniel had donkeypunched Tharuz at the throwdown I missed. What I would have given to see that.
Finally, time for the belt test came. I went to a friends house across town to shower before the test; I didn't want to shove my crotch into the black belts face during the test and get demoted for smelling like I had crotch rot.
The test was two hours, and hour and a half of which was sparring. We were placed into groups of sparring parters; I got placed in the larger than 6' more than 230 pounds catagory. For what reason I don't know; I was only 5' 9'' and a gentleman's 185. They crushed me, slammed me, and tried to rip off my limbs. I got more cups shoved forcefully in my face than I care to remember, but football guy and the canadian had prepared me for this beating. I would bide my time and eventually tap each one of them.
Finally, the part everyone had been waiting for. Promotions. He called out students by name, and handed them their pretty promotion. He went through everyone; everyone but me, and this other whitebelt that had tested. He called up...whitebelt. Then he said good job everyone and began walking away.
I die a little on the inside. I could have tried to rationalize it to myself, that I'd just come off a massive break, popped my elbow, and just weathered a hurricane. But that didn't make me feel any better. I wanted a promotion, but I guess I wasn't good enough.
Then my instructor comes up and calls my name. Since it was an interschool belt test, each instructor promoted their own guys. I was called up, and got a pretty stripe on my blue belt. I felt great. I turned to walk and-
"Hold on, you're not done yet."
Two stripes! All my effort, all the suffering, all the metal cups to the face had finally paid off! I felt great. I was the last guy to be promoted, and I can only assume they were saving the best for last.
The power, water, and cable all came back on the following day. Life was good. The next Houston throwdown was scheduled for december. I could hardly wait.
Next time, Forever Fat Act Three Part Five: All the Madmen
2/25/2009 2:11pm, #805
2/25/2009 3:34pm, #806
you forgot damn hurricanes interfered with your detroit throwdown plans :(
PROOF that I'm not a completely useless poster:
Originally Posted by Cy Q. Faunce
2/25/2009 3:48pm, #807
Ike was a horrible experience that feels like a bad dream. Driving around and seeing everything destroyed was kinda awesome the weeks upon weeks without simple amenities like clean water, and electricity not so much.
2/25/2009 3:58pm, #808
You give a **** about stripes?Curiosity killed the cat. But damn it had a blast.
2/25/2009 6:10pm, #809
I like to think of it as 2/5ths of the way to purple.
2/25/2009 6:57pm, #810