Fight Night

I was sat on a plastic chair, facing backwards with my arms rested on the back of the chair. In front of me, Nop was busy wrapping my hands in the layers of tape and bandage that would allow me to punch without fear of breaking my hand. Behind me, the first fight is underway between two young girls, the traditional Thai music that accompanies every bout contending with the shouts of the crowd. Soon it would be my turn. I was set to be the 5th fight of the night, so I had a bit of time to relax barring several first round knockouts.

It's fight night in Haad Rin arena, and I'm about to have my 4th muay thai fight.



Several hours earlier, I had awoken from an afternoon nap to shower and eat, safe in knowledge that there was a few hours until we would need to head up to Haad Rin, with the fights due to start around 9pm. Or so I thought. Instead, I was told to throw on my muay thai shorts and lie down on the ring, along with Jason and Sami who were also due to fight that night. The trainers then proceeded to give us all a vigorous rub down with namman muay boxing oil. The oil works to warm up your muscles and get the circulation going, preparing the body for action. We then spent about ten minutes shadow boxing. I'd never experienced or heard of doing this several hours before a fight, only right before at the stadium, but it helped to wake  my body up and get me in the frame of mind to fight.

After another shower, we jumped into the back of a truck with a huge billboard and a loudspeaker advertising the fight, driven by Phu, who is something of a legend. With reportedly over 400 fights to his name, including wins over some of the top guys in his day, Phu was the main promoter for the show and also the ringside commentator. He's also incredibly funny. Along the way, we went down a pretty rough dirt track into the jungle, arriving at a Thai home which was essentially a wooden shack, with several people, kids, dogs and chickens milling around. A battered old punch bag hung from a nearby tree. As it turned out, the guys who Sami and Jason were fighting lived here, and we ended up making polite conversation with the guys they would be in the ring with just a few hours later.

Eventually, we arrived at Haad Rin arena. It was good to have some time to walk around the place and get a feel for it, we even got to climb in the ring and test out the canvas and ropes. Useful, especially as there was a couple of large gaps in the planks under the canvas, which you would want to avoid during the fight. We went for some food with Phu, enjoying chicken, sticky rice and a fruit shake with a sombre, last meal kind of feeling.

The days and hours before a fight are a strange experience, one that is difficult to describe to the uninitiated, but which all those who have fought will understand immediately. It's a heady mix of emotions in constant flux, growing more intense as the fight approaches. Excitement, nerves, fear, confidence, a feeling of invulnerability and an awareness that tomorrow you will likely be in some amount of pain, all warring against one another.

One of the reasons we came up to Haad Rin so early is that they wanted us to hand out flyers for the fight to any tourists we saw. Not really what any of us wanted to be doing at this point, walking around in the heat, sweating away. Fortunately, we managed to pass it off on someone else and instead spent the next couple hours chilling out in the arena. As the place started to fill up, a group of English lads came in and introduced themselves to Jason and I, saying they had come just to support us after they saw the flyer.

As the fight neared, I had the customary rub down with namman muay and Vaseline, and had my prai-jet tied on my left arm. The prai-jet is an old custom from the days of ancient Siam. When the warriors would go to war, the women would tear strips from the skirt and tie it around a warriors' arm, to remind him of who and what he fought for. The custom is one of a few kept alive through muay thai. Before I left for Thailand, my older sister Jade presented me with a prai-jet. To my surprise, my other sister Grace, only eight, gave me one she had made herself. It was a touching and meaningful gesture, and it truly felt like I was taking a piece of my family in with me despite them being so many  miles away.

Simon, as the gym boss, placed the sacred mongkon headband on me, and I was ready for war. At this point, my body felt super-charged as it filled with adrenaline. This was it. This was why I had come to Thailand. With three fights and three losses on my record, this was my moment to prove that I had what it took to be a nak muay. I entered the ring over the top rope, as all fighters do in Thailand to ensure the mongkon does not dip below the feet, which would disrespectful in Thai culture, and paced around the ring in readiness. There was no backing out now, it was time.

My opponent took a while to get to the ring, but I didn't let it bother me and instead took the opportunity to walk around the ring again, feeling confident that the canvas wasn't too slippy, which would make kicking difficult. The red corner, my corner, however, was a mess. The canvas there was torn up, and it was covered in water. Someone, I can't remember who, maybe several, told me to be careful of it.

Eventually my opponent arrived in the ring, and we performed the wai kru ram muay, the traditional pre-fight dance performed before most muay thai fights. I keep mine short and simple for now, as a relatively inexperienced fighter, but some fighters perform truly beautiful ram muay that are almost as impressive as their fighting skills.

Simon removed my mongkon and we came to the centre of the ring, touched gloves, and the fight started. The first round was slow, both of us taking our time to feel each other out and get our range. This is typical in muay thai, and I try to keep a true Thai style to my fighting. I was having a bit of trouble landing kicks in the first round. He didn't, however, and after the first kick thrown at my head smashed into my arms, I realised I would have to keep my guard up tight. He kicked hard and fast.

Quicker than I expected, the round was over and we went back to our corners. I was doused in icy water, more freezing cold water shoved down my throat. The cold was such a shock, I was finding it hard to breath as I sat there. Several people we talking to me, but I picked out Simon and tried to listen to him. He said something about getting closer. So much of a fight goes by in a blur, it's hard to remember it all.

Round two, I focused on getting in a bit closer and immediately saw some results. I landed some sharp kicks to the body and his front leg. He threw an elbow which hit my guard harmlessly, and I thought to myself, "shit, yeah, I can use elbows. I forgot about that." It didn't take long for the opportunity to come, and as he darted in I stepped forward with a quick 'up elbow' which caught him. I remember him blinking in surprise, and me thinking, "yeah, didn't expect that did you!"

In round three, the pace started picking up, as he threw some strong combinations. I was able to soak up whatever he threw with a tight guard though, countering with my own kicks that started to have an effect on his front leg. I even managed to land a jumping knee whilst he was against the ropes, one of my favourite techniques that I hadn't been able to pull off in a fight yet. By the end of the round, I could tell he was tiring. I thought if I pushed him hard in the fourth I might be able to finish him.

In my corner, everybody was yelling at me to go forward and attack his leg. I remember asking Mon if I was winning, and in his typical enigmatic fashon he replied, "you win now, sure!"

My opponent came out strong at the start, hoping to put me away with a quick blitz, but once again I was able to soak it up and hit him on the counter. I could see him visibly tire as I landed some strong body kicks, including one from a nice lean-back as he tried a head kick. More leg kicks followed, and finally he went down. The ref gave him an 8-count, and off we went again. One more kick to the leg and down he went again, the ref waving the fight off.

It was over. I'd won. Finally.

Relief. Joy. Excitement.

The ref raised my hand, and I went to check on my opponent and thank him for the fight.

I really enjoyed this fight. More than my previous ones and not simply because I won. I felt strong and confident, and I think I grew into the fight as it went on. I was excited about doing it again. But first, some beers and a few days off hitting things.