At last, the day finally came for me to live up to my promise and fight in a pink gi, sport a matching resplendent 'plumage' and smash the competition. The result? Well... two out of three ain't so bad...
It was back in April just before the British BJJ Open that a distinctly less fat 'Flamingo' concocted this little plot to raise money for charity. I was at Lee Catling's BJJ class at BKK Fighters Gym in Colchester, and we were sat in a circle puffing and panting after some specific sparring. As he usually does at this point of the lesson, Lee invited questions from the students. Being the random and impulsive chap that I am, I asked the non sequitur "What's the rules on a bloke wearing a pink gi in competition?" After some nervous laughter, he made it plain that it's a definite no-no, but if it was in aid of charity, maybe Braulio Estima (who organises the British BJJ Open) would let me wear it. It was only a week before the British Open, so there was far too little notice to promote it at that point, but it certainly got the wheels turning in my head...
And so, the Fat Flamingo was born. Why a flamingo? Well, because they're pink, dummy. And why a FAT flamingo? I think that's pretty self-explanatory... But of course, the question remains, why the colour pink?
Pink is the colour usually associated with cancer charities (especially breast cancer charities) and sadly many in my family have been afflicted with this horrific disease over the years. I have lost two uncles to cancer, a close friend of my mother died of throat cancer last year, my father-in-law died of cancer in February, and now my uncle Jack and aunt Lily (my mother's brother and sister) are courageously fighting this disease these past few months. It has had an enormous effect on my family, and I know that they are only one of many that are suffering at the hands of one of humanity's biggest killers.
And so I felt Cancer Research UK to be the most appropriate charity for whom to raise money. And over these past few months, with so many having contributed so generously, we surpassed my initial target of raising £500, and at my last count we have raised £575. I'm thrilled to bits and incredibly grateful, and truly proud of all the family and friends inside and outside of the Brazilian Jiu Jitsu community (and those of you I haven't even met!) who contributed. Thank you all.
All that remained to be done was for this dumpy little chap to hit the mats in Rayleigh last weekend and smash the competition. Unfortunately, things didn't quite pan out that way...
I'm a very different beast today than I was when I first formulated the idea to literally fight for cancer research, 'beast' being the operative word. What with a sudden increase in work commitments and therefore a lack of spare time, my training regimen suffered, as did my bathroom scales. My weight ballooned from a respectable 80kg (in my gi, I might add) to a flab-tastic NINETY-FOUR KILOGRAMS in the space of 6 months. All in all, I think that alone is an impressive performance. But such an expansion in girth doesn't make for an efficient athlete. It just makes for an undersized competitor, fighting monsters of muscle WAY bigger than he. So when it came to registering for this competition, I had the 'opportunity' of fighting at HEAVYWEIGHT.
And so, as I stepped on the mats for my first fight and stared into the eyes of my opponent, I suddenly felt very small. This gentlemen seemed twice as big as the guys in my normal weight category, and also represented team Carlson Gracie, known for their aggression on the tatami.
The referee called "Fight!" and we locked horns. And for pretty much the next 5 minutes, I felt like I was surviving rather than competing. We took our grips on each other's gis, and swung each other around the mats hoping for a takedown. It was clear this chap was a lot stronger than me, so I decided to pull guard and get a 50/50. BIG mistake. The last thing one needs in this kind of match is a guy that big on top of them. From this point, I spent the next four and a half minutes protecting my arms, guarding my my neck, and vowing never to fight at heavyweight again, all whilst my internal dialogue screamed "DO NOT GET SUBMITTED! DON'T YOU DARE TAP!"
Mercifully, the ref called time and calm was restored, with my opponent's arm raised and my delusions of possible triumph shattered.
Upon leaving the mats, my corner man William Wayland gave me an accurate summation of this epic battle: "That wasn't very good, was it?"
I had no sooner caught my breath, when one of the officials informed me I was about to fight again. Only this time, my opponent was even bigger.
It would be inaccurate to say we stood eye-to-eye before our fight, as this kiwi chap was about 6'3" (whereas I am a humble 5'9"), but he seemed genial enough for a man about to try and rip my head from my shoulders. We slapped hands and took our grips. Once again, two competitors swung each other around the mats, looking to trip the other and land on top in a dominant position. And once again, I pulled guard, hoping to gain the advantage. But this clearly wasn't my day and I once more had a giant on top of me.
He was going for cross-collar chokes like nobody's business once he had the mount, but somehow I ended up on top in his guard and endeavoured to make him as uncomfortable as I could. This clearly prompted him to fight to get my back and attempt a rear naked choke. Which he fought for until the end of the match. All I can recall is referee Lee Catling's concerned face as he looked prepared to stop the fight, but thankfully I've had more uncomfortable razor-burn than this RNC and made sure to keep giving Lee the thumbs-up in case he thought I was going to pass out. I held on until the end, and time was called.
Leaving the mats feeling somewhat dejected and disappointed, I also felt more motivated than I had in a long, long time. From that point onwards, I have been looking to the future and to the other tournaments to come. I know I'm better than that performance, I have great teammates and coaches and now I have a greater desire to perform to my utmost in competition. Onwards and upwards!
All in all, it was a great day. Lee Catling did a spectacular job organising the event and I look forward to the next one. My teammates William Wayland, Brian Speirs and Tim Clifton, despite not medalling, put on a great show for the spectators and should be proud of themselves. And it was nice to see the Mill Hill boys there and their competitors do so well.
After the finals of the individual belt and weight categories had been brought to their exciting conclusion, the competitors were invited to partake in the 'Absolutes,' an invitation I declined. My six year old son was puzzled by my sudden lack of enthusiasm, and said "Are you not doing it because you don't want to get beat up again?" Even with barely half a dozen years to his life, that boy is sharp as a tack...
Speak soon, folks...
Fat Flamingo