A Good Sport

Most of you know that I work a few weekends a month with the body that sanctions mixed martial arts, boxing, and tough man competitions across the state. I hear it all the time, “I can’t believe you like watching something so barbaric.” I know it’s hard to believe that someone who has never broken a bone or been into playing competitive sports would want to spend her weekends with people who fight for fun. Normally, I'm a girly girl, into heels, pearls, and playing well with others, but I confess that I do love MMA. And if I’m violating some sort of rule by blogging about this part-time job, please tell me quickly so I can remove this blog post haste!

First, let me go on the record to say this about mixed martial arts (MMA): Yes, they fight but it’s not about fighting. It’s about precision, skill, competition, and strategy. And, hands down, the fighters and seconds (trainers and coaches who do their thing in the corner of the ring or cage) are probably some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. They are humble, friendly, and focused, and they follow directions without a hassle. They make my job easy.

MMA is different from other sports; the rivalries you find in other arenas just don’t seem to exist here. I supposed they do when fighters get to “the big time”, but from what I’ve seen, since the sport is relatively new to NC, the fighters are all of the mindset that they’re working together to make a good name for the sport and to provide quality entertainment for the fans.  It’s not at all unusual to see fighters, once they leave the cage, working together in the back on holds and escapes, learning from whatever just happened in the ring. It’s not out of the ordinary to see large groups of “opposing teams” praying together before a fight and making plans to meet at Waffle House after. The sportsmanship and camaraderie is, I would venture to say, unparalleled by any other sport. It’s pretty amazing.

Not too long ago, I had the opportunity to work a fight in the western part of the state. It was a slugfest and both men were battered and banged up by the end of the second round. In the third round, the crowd favorite unleashed a monster jab to his opponent’s head, splitting at least a 2 inch gash in his noggin, effectively ending the fight. To say it was nasty doesn’t begin to do it justice.

The crowd went wild and the hometown boy had another mark in his win column. No one was supposed to care about the bloody pulp of a loser, right? Wrong.

I was in the back with the defeated fighter when Mr. Hometown Proud immediately walked over, and meekly said, “Man, you need stitches. My corner can sew you up.” And he did. The coach came over and sewed up the loser while the winner, who could have been out taking photos with the fans or watching the next fight, sat right there with him, encouraging and supporting him during this impromptu surgery (which was pretty fascinating to watch, if I do say so myself). As much as the loser congratulated the winner, the winner consoled the loser and apologized for his pain. In that moment, it didn’t matter who won and who lost. They weren’t opponents; they weren’t enemies. They were warriors, nursing their wounds and sharing a love of the sport, appreciating the camaraderie and determination it takes to enter the octagon and come out the other side. It’s fighters like that, who display this remarkable level of sportsmanship on a continual basis, that make this girly girl proud to be an MMA fan.