I'm going to pump out a few today because its a public holiday and my missus is working so i have absolutely nothing to do. without further fanfare...
CHAPTER 3: DOWNFALL
I had also begun playing rugby at high school, and it was about my second year when A big samoan forward fell on me. I forget the exact problem but basically, my shoulder was fucked. It still hurts now occasionally. It wasn't long after this little tumble that I moved to a new, classier school due to the crapness of my previous high school. This was in the city, it was about twice as big, and these kids had proper nutrition all their lives meaning I was pretty much the smallest guy in my class, barring a couple of midget motherfuckers.
This posed a problem- I had no friends, I was small, my punching arm was badly injured, and I was a ****. This was about the time that I developed a very fast mouth. By the end of that first year I was friends with a pair of big, big dudes, and most people in my year liked me, except a few bastards who disliked me because I was poor. Everyone needs a poor friend though right? Because my arm was busted I had spent my time basically turning into a geek. I still cruised by at school- this would later cause problems because up until the age of about 16 I had never NEEDED to do any study or homework. that one kinda bit me on the ass. What I had done though was start playing lots of computer games, playstation, watching tv- basically non physical things. I was still strong in a wiry sense, but no match at all for the majority of guys who would want to do me harm I was frustrated by this but at the same time very poor at actually doing anything about it because I was so inherently lazy. Apart from occasionally gang bashing some guy who was not in the "in" crowd, I didn't really hit people any more. So what else was there to do? drugs.
I started drinking about 15, and fairly quickly moved onto doing weed as well. By now my father had been fired and then rehired as a contractor and was making a lot of money so I had a car and a pretty nice allowance, as well as my mothers eftpos card. And so began my fairly surreal experience as a young idiotic male with access to alcohol and cars, although i will say I never drove drunk. I won't go into too much detail on what I got up to because to be honest I would be embarassed to recount it. needless to say I was spiralling out at a fairly rapid rate- i would go to a friends house on a friday nigh and wake up sunday afternoon with the weekend a blur of drinking, sex, drugs. Mates bringing their coked up girlfriends into my house, throwing up on girls, unprotected sex- Whatever I could do to take my mind off my total lack of drive in the rest of my life. typical teenage angst ****, I know. Some of these stories I have recounted in the LLL forum so I won't repeat them here despite their hilarity, although this one is a good one-
Around now I got sick of being unfit and started doing a kind of kung fu called Nam Wah Pai, and that will be the next chapter of lolarity. Things will begin to get more concise too.
I liked your tales of debauchery better. This is quite bland. Lacks flavor. Hackneyed. Trite. Bitch made.
Originally Posted by Goju - joe
Oh snap! Nam Wah Pai sounds...well, I don't know. I might steal an idea from this thread and take pictures of my smack down at H-Town trophies, and my Universal hall of fame plaque.
If you do not do that I will de varrot you, everyday, forever. If you do, do it I shall reward you beyond your wildest dreams.
Originally Posted by MrBadGuy
I'll post them tomorrow. Now shh, let's stop shitting up the man's thread. Let's take it back to my place, if you catch my drift.
Looking forward to this! I had a few friends years ago who did the Nam Wah Pai thingy. Went to a few of their classes.... much comedy to be had!
Originally Posted by Alex
CHAPTER 4: KUNG FUUU
So I walk into the slightly grubby atmosphere of the kung fu kwoon. A large black guy, obviously the boss man round these parts, greets me with a vice like grip and a big smile. We immediately hit it off, and I still consider him a mate today. Another old white man with a star wars haircut came up and introduced himself as "Harm". Right. Cool old guy though. Looking around I spotted people doing some basic stretches, there was a family (Some lady and her two kids) a bunch of other kids- one of whom was about 8 and toting a brown belt- a couple of guys around my age and some hottie with dreads, and finally a couple of guys who were about 20 something. They looked like rejects from an MC hammer video.
After a short time we began the warm up which would involve a bit of running around the hall, press ups, jumping jacks, that sort of carry on. it also involved an odd kata thing where the instructor called a sequence of different blocking techniques very quickly and was quite long. This took me a while to get a hold of but I felt pretty cool when I could whip the sequence out like it weren't no thang. After the warm up we would divide into groups- I stand my sorry ass with a couple of other beginners (the mum, a fat girl, and a couple of kids) and Harm comes over to show us whats up. He takes us through the basic kicks, punches, and starts us on the first kata. Yes, despite being called kung fu there are belt rankings and kata. go figure. We also have to learn various self defense drills- the first one was against a straight punch. your partner steps in with a big ole chambered punch, you deflect, grab, and punch back.
All this **** was amazing to me. I picked it up quickly and felt like I was Neo. The classes were easy (In fact I hardly broke a sweat at any stage) but that was how real martial arts were done, right? I had visions of old chinese men who just practice their forms all day and use their intense chi to **** **** up. My dedication to the class was quite sincere- I attended every session without fail, I worked hard, and when time came for my belt test I double graded not once but twice. I was on their small committee board and was always eager to help. I felt as though I could own anyone but of course, such was not the martial way- I remember a pair of thugs hanging around outside the hall when I left one time, and one asked for a fight. I brushed him off as he laughed at me in my kung fu outfit, safe in the knowledge that if he and his friend tried anything self defense move number 5 that I had just learnt would be ample to fend them off and possibly kill them.
It was around that time that my sensei (yeah I know) informed me that a tournament was coming up. I was excited. Less excited was my dad, since it involved driving me for about four hours out to the coromandel somewhere. I was entered in the Yellow belt Sparring and kata- **** was on like donkey kong. I was pumped. Now the way our sparring worked was the same as most krotty tournaments- no contact to the head, light contact to the body. it was continuous with points being given for a clean technique. Not as awful as non contact stop start sparring I guess, but still fairly craptacular.
We arrived, I donned my outfit and my proud yellow belt with its green tip. Katas came up first, we would perform the third kata (no fancy names round here son) and be judged on it. Those found wanting would be tapped on the shoulder and told to leave, those who had the mad skills would stay and repeat the kata. I came third. I should have won in my view, but that's because I was an arrogant prick, not because I deserved to. However I couldn't complain too much about a third place. Some lanky streak of piss won the event and the cool looking trophy while all I got was a certificate. Bastard.
For the sparring it didn't seem that many of the kataphiliacs were prepared to switch over to hitting more than air so I didn't get to exact any revenge. One odd thing about this tournament was that it was mixed sex, even for the adults. A friend of mine, a chubby dude, first went up against some hot girl. The poor guy didn't throw a single strike and was soundly beaten on points. I on the other hand had no problems hitting girls- my first opponent was also a lady, and after a warning for excessive contact when I slammed my shin into her thigh, I raked up enough points to wtfpwn her. After her I would face a higher ranked older guy than me. His strange technique of leaping towards me with a punch then leaping away was not something I had seen in my school but unfortunately worked really well in an environment where you score points for hitting the air 6 inches in front of your oponents face. I was defeated and at the same time disgusted with the ridiculous rules that had caused my downfall. I actually have (or had) all this on tape and watched it over and over, trying to see where I had gone wrong- I didn't realise at the time that my first mistake was starting kung fu in the first place.
This wouldn't be the last time I entered a tournament, but it was the catalyst for what came next...
Last edited by alex; 2/06/2008 4:51pm at .
You seem to be a natural at fighting. I hate you for this, curse my good-hearted nature and wish you death.
This is actually pretty good so far.
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