That hurt.

“Everybody was kung-fu fighting

Those cats were fast as lightning

In fact it was a little bit frightning

But they fought with expert timing”

I am not sure, but I have a pretty good idea, why I have never had a desire to be a martial arts fighter. I think it has something to do with pain; actually, I know it has something to do with the fear of getting hurt. For some reason, it just doesn’t sound like much fun to me.

I used to work with a guy who was into martial arts. He actually knew one of the fighters in the UFC. All I remember was his name—it was Andre, and he was from Russia. He was one tough dude; unfortunately there were guys who were even tougher than he was. All I know is he got hurt a lot---and I think I know why. He stepped in the ring with someone who wanted to rip his head off.

When I was growing up, I remember going to professional wrestling matches with my Dad and brother. We loved it. We thought it was real---rather, I did. They knew better. But they never said, “This is fake.” I am really glad they didn’t---I loved believing that men, and a few women, would actually jump from the ropes, slap one another on the body, and perform body slams on the mat that awaited them.

That changed one Friday night. We went to matches and before they started, we walked down to the ring. I touched it and it was heavily padded. I then saw them adjusting speakers underneath; I was crushed---but at least I knew. It’s kind of like discovering the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus are not real. Actually they are---I just wanted to see who would go along with me for a split second.

The photo above was taken at a Tae Kwon Do event; boys and girls, from ages 4 and over, were kicking, punching, and grabbing one another. It was not until I saw a miss, and the boy went down, that I knew this had nothing to do with professional wrestling.

Thanks for stopping by.