Ryu23
03-05-2016, 09:31
Hallo Jungs,
hab die Geschichte hier in einem US Forum gefunden und musste sie einfach mit euch teilen. Die Geschichte an sich und die Ironie mit der sie erzählt wird - einfach hammer :D
Sie ist leider auf Englisch, aber trotzdem sehr gut.
Like most TIFU (today i fucked up) posts this didn't happen today, but in 2007. I was 16 and had been training Kung Fu and Krav Maga for about 2 years. My instructor told me I had a gift and to never use my deadly techniques unless it was a life or death situation. I fed off his praise and continued paying the $19.99 monthly fees while believing I was some kind of Caucasian Jet Li.
Around this time the UFC began to become very popular in New Zealand and everyone was talking about ex-middleweight champion Anderson Silva. Being the martial arts master I was, I decided to rent some UFC DVD's and analyse his technique. His flawless victories were simply not impressive to my delusional 16 year old brain. I thoroughly believed I knew how to dismantle him or basically any MMA fighter for that matter.
I began boasting around school and to my girlfriend that I was going to be the next big thing in MMA and that I was going to leave school to commence my career as a certified badass. I basically quit school for a month to practice Kung Fu in my garage in addition to the 5-7 pm class at the rec center.
Following the most cringy montage imaginable, the opportunity to crush my adversaries came with an amateur MMA fight at a warehouse bar in South Auckland. I was unaware at the time but this was actually a Maori gangster clubhouse which hosted incredibly illegal promotions for anyone ballsy enough to fight for the $500 cash prize. My friends older brother who was a gang member got me a spot and basically told me he'd murder me if I didn't show up.. like he stood a chance.
Fast forward to fight night, I show up with my girlfriend and high school posse for support. The club looked like something out of a movie, leather jacket wearing thugs everywhere and a makeshift arena dead center. The nerves sunk in but I remembered what my electrician / part time Kung Fu master told me about fear and sucked it up. Before my fight, two huge guys were literally pulverizing each other bare knuckle until once collapsed into a mutilated heap onto the canvas. Then came my time to shine. I was announced as a Kung Fu fighter nick-named 'The Soul Eater' and was escorted into the ring. My opponent was in his mid-twenties, tall, muscular and well, actually a fighter.
Needless to say my flying neck chop didn't bring me home the cheddar and I was hospitalized with a fractured jaw, orbital and bruised rib. Worst part is I had to go back to school where everyone had some incredibly low resolution mobile footage of me getting rag dolled by an angry Maori.
And that there was the start and end of my fighting career.
hab die Geschichte hier in einem US Forum gefunden und musste sie einfach mit euch teilen. Die Geschichte an sich und die Ironie mit der sie erzählt wird - einfach hammer :D
Sie ist leider auf Englisch, aber trotzdem sehr gut.
Like most TIFU (today i fucked up) posts this didn't happen today, but in 2007. I was 16 and had been training Kung Fu and Krav Maga for about 2 years. My instructor told me I had a gift and to never use my deadly techniques unless it was a life or death situation. I fed off his praise and continued paying the $19.99 monthly fees while believing I was some kind of Caucasian Jet Li.
Around this time the UFC began to become very popular in New Zealand and everyone was talking about ex-middleweight champion Anderson Silva. Being the martial arts master I was, I decided to rent some UFC DVD's and analyse his technique. His flawless victories were simply not impressive to my delusional 16 year old brain. I thoroughly believed I knew how to dismantle him or basically any MMA fighter for that matter.
I began boasting around school and to my girlfriend that I was going to be the next big thing in MMA and that I was going to leave school to commence my career as a certified badass. I basically quit school for a month to practice Kung Fu in my garage in addition to the 5-7 pm class at the rec center.
Following the most cringy montage imaginable, the opportunity to crush my adversaries came with an amateur MMA fight at a warehouse bar in South Auckland. I was unaware at the time but this was actually a Maori gangster clubhouse which hosted incredibly illegal promotions for anyone ballsy enough to fight for the $500 cash prize. My friends older brother who was a gang member got me a spot and basically told me he'd murder me if I didn't show up.. like he stood a chance.
Fast forward to fight night, I show up with my girlfriend and high school posse for support. The club looked like something out of a movie, leather jacket wearing thugs everywhere and a makeshift arena dead center. The nerves sunk in but I remembered what my electrician / part time Kung Fu master told me about fear and sucked it up. Before my fight, two huge guys were literally pulverizing each other bare knuckle until once collapsed into a mutilated heap onto the canvas. Then came my time to shine. I was announced as a Kung Fu fighter nick-named 'The Soul Eater' and was escorted into the ring. My opponent was in his mid-twenties, tall, muscular and well, actually a fighter.
Needless to say my flying neck chop didn't bring me home the cheddar and I was hospitalized with a fractured jaw, orbital and bruised rib. Worst part is I had to go back to school where everyone had some incredibly low resolution mobile footage of me getting rag dolled by an angry Maori.
And that there was the start and end of my fighting career.