Kru Rigel's Journal From Thailand!

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Ok kids, here goes the first installment of what will ostensibly be a weekly blog concerning my training here in Thailand, my misadventures in travel, and of course, track the progress of my "come back" from retirement # 3 as a pro fighter. Compressing any week into a brief synopsis is an unenviable task. Compressing THIS past week is another thing entirely. So I don't think I really will. I'm Irish and it's almost considered a sin to conserve words when one has plenty to spare. So Hopinfg to be fair of voice and glib of tongue, (ah, blarney) I'm just going to let fly off the cuff and leave the rest to you. Read, peruse, edit, whatever you like. On a solid three hours sleep I woke at 4 AM Monday morning still needing to pack. Which I did by 5 AM when my ride promptly arrived. A cup of coffee and an M150 later and Candice, LuLu, and myself are in the car en route to JFK. My flight leaves 11:50 AM which would seem to give plenty of leeway, but Monday morning NYC traffic can determine otherwise. A short 13 hour flight to Tokyo, 4 hour layover involving one $2.96 USD pint can of Kirin Special Lager, Sumo on Tele, and another 6 hour flight to BKK finds me in Bangkok in a taxi. With the address printed up for me in Thai I'm not much help to the driver in finding the camp. So it's 1:30 in the morning and I'm finally tucking myself into my rather spartan bunk. Well, no tucking actually as it's 89 degrees and humid but you get the idea. I'm in RM 1 at the camp and the only farang (foreigner) actually staying on premises. It's a room with three electric fans, two bunk beds (unoccupied), and a small armoir/ cabinet. Perfect. Oh yeah, I brought four books to read and already finished one on the flight. It's called, Flight, Actually by Sherman Alexie, the preeminent NAtive American author of our time. Easy read and I highly recommend it. ROUND ONE Ok, so I have barely slept for days and somehow lost a day in the process of traveling East. It happens. But when they start ringing the bell at 6 AM, like Pavlov's dog, I'm not about to miss it. Well it's good to make everyone smile and man do they get a kick out of me. This camp is hardcore and I'm the only farang at morning training. Still rocking the Robert Smith grease-hawk and not in the best of sorts. It's about 90 degrees and muggy and the Thais are laughing their @#*'s off as I skip heavy rope for 30 minutes for the first time in 2 years. Btw, at the advice of my trainers (and with very little protest from yours truly) I'm not to run at all the entire first week. To ease in and better acclimate myself and to be able to concentrate on technique and padwork. Anyway they're calling me "Phom Puay" which is a gentle euphemism for fat bastard that at least implies they think I'm somewhat muscular in a meathead farang sense. Still not sure I'm a fighter. All rounds are 5 minutes with about a 1 minute break, though the break varies according to who's minding the bell. Rope is straight through however. Once I've finished skipping (and managed to keep from drowning in the pool I have created) I'm told to wrap hands and grab the distinctive egg-shaped, notched Thai hand weights that I've missed so much. Shadowboxing. So this is good. They get to see I can move a bit and I'm not full of it like so many big farang with aspirations of fighting here. Then it comes with all the subtlety of a scratched record, "Ayoo a rai?" How old are you? Then even worse - get on the scale! Here it is folks, no sugar coating, 100 precious kilos. That's exactly 220 lb. When last I fought in Thailand two years ago - 70kilos! More laughter from the camp. This is great. Anyway now I'm just hoping one of the Kru's will take pity on me and allow my unworthiness to hit his pads. All the old guys are talking so much smack on me... till one (later tells me his name is Daeng- the color red) says, " Rittichai - I see you in Pattaya. I know you. Coban Lookchaomaesaitong. Pattaya" I haven't been there since '99, btw. " I see you in Pattaya, you train with Coban, my friend. You fight Dutch. Knock out!" It's true I was 28 years old and KO'd a Dutch fighter w/ knees in RD 3 (my preferred KO rd) in a pick 'em up fight. But the fact that he remembers is something. Then he tells the other Kru's, "Rittichai(my name)- POWER. STRONG." Cool. I'm in. Not so fast. I get the youngest, fittest Kru, Den (as common a name as Dave here - 3rd Kru I know with same name). He's awesome, about 6'2" and still in good shape. He bears a striking resemblance to a Thai version of my childhood friend, Dave Brown, who would clearly be portrayed in film by Vince Vaughn. So I'm comfortable with this Thai Vince Vaughn right away. But is he with me? First thing is that damn inside hook I throw, palm facing me. "ohh - No good!" Den says. Than proceeds to show me palm down which I've struggled with since transitioning from boxing to muayThai 15 years ago. Out of respect, I do it his way and feel like I'm going to break my thumb each time. (later in the week I would have the great Anuwat Kaewsamrit work on the same punch with me. Here is the top featherwt. in the world, 6 belt holder 4 of which are Lumpini Stadium, fresh off his 2nd rd KO ofthe top Dutch fighter in Holland just last Sunday) So who am I to argue? As he's showinfg me I start to get it. Inside chopping over the shoulder swing. It's not going to replace my hook. Will simply be another weapon all together. Good to keep an open mind. Den continues to work with me. Though now all the other Kru's are calling me "ma ba" or mad dog, because of my panting between rounds. Listen. It's hot.. and I'm fat. Fat guys pant when sprinting pads. Sorry. He works some simple but really slick elbow technique and set-up with me. As always it's the details. A subtle hip pop really helps to deliver power to the favored rear vertical elbow. Angles mean everything at this level too. Surprisingly enough he doesn't mind the way I kick. I've always had power, yeah, but Thais usually disdain the way I move my kick. My original Kru taught me and it's worked for me. But this is a punch, clinch, elbow camp and I sneak under the radar. Power is enough. He likes my long, Samart style lead side teep that I've taken to using to get a bit of space to breathe. So that's cool too. I make 2 rds of Thai pads and 1 rd of focus mitts before Den says, "enough - hit bag." If you've ever trained with me you know that really means, "I can't take it anymore- get out of my sight." Hey, three 5 minute rds Day One in this heat with no sleep is good enough for me. Then it starts, " Dah rahk - dah rahk" This is a new one to me. Are they still calling me dog? Damn. Thought we worked past that. I would find out days later fr a Mongolian fighter training here that they 're now calling me " The Rock" not "dahrahk" as a sort-of compliment. I don't know. My Bangkok Thai is as rusty as my padwork at this point. So I should be past ego atthis point and know my limitations, I'm not and I don't. First training session I should be happy to finish on bag but NOOO. Den says, "clinching, clinching" and I eagerly jump back in the ring with a wiry Thai kid who has about 4 inches on me if not more. This is a stark contrast to the majority of the camp. Aside from Den there is one other tall kid, I think the younger brother of my clinch sparring partner. The rest are pretty short here. Well this actually went really well. He's pretty damn good, and so young. Why wasn't I sent to Thailand instead of Kansas at 10 years old? I surprise them here. I throw him as much as he throws me. Though he has the upper hand with straight knees they dig my, Man of La MAncha vs. the windmills flying side knee. Had to pull it out, his hip is near my chest level! Even fighting through fatigue I'm able to acquit myself well for a full 3 rds though I'm pretty sure I tried to sneak out of the ring after each rd. Downside? I can't clinch for the rest of the week due to my neck and arm being so badly tweaked. Should've known better. Moving on. The rest of the week goes on much the same. Morning session is 6-9 AM at this point. Afternoon starts with 30 minutes rope at 3 PM and goes till after 6. Light sparring in afternoon/evening session and clinching EVERY training. (but not for me). I get to know some of the fighters as the week goes by. Toy is one of the tops and there's a 19 year old Laos kid who just rips pads and kills in the clinch. They're calling him the next Anuwat, "Same Same" they say. Of course, Anuwat is there regularly and holds pads for younger fighters and helps everyone. He's so fast, so strong and hits so hard. It' s criminal he's 127lb. There are 4 Mongolians, who until Friday I thought were Japanese. 2 Spaniards, one who is real deal fighter and his friend just training. An Aussie and a Londoner namesd, Phil, going on 2 years at this camp. A small but bad-arse Japanese female (105lb) who left Saturday for home, and two Swedish girls. I'm the only farang training both sessions at this point. I think most miss mornings because they don't live on premises. I have no choice. Breakfast is after morning session. Awesome, healthy, spicy, clean Thai food. Usualy 2-3 dishes to put together with rice. The fruit cart pulls up behind his bell daily at 10am. Until you've had fresh, sup pa rot, Thai pineapple, you've not had pineapple. Though the deal with the camp for all inclusive stay is to provide 2 meals a day, it seems the second meal is a myth. Which is fine by me, I'm no stranger to Thai cuisine. From the basics to the most exotic, I'm game to give it a shot. Anyone that knows me knows you'd be hard pressed to find something I won't eat (ha!) Put it on a stick, satay it, hand it over. Bamboo rat? Sure. Bats? Why not? All variety of insect? Bring 'em on. Black rice, red rice, sticky rice, non-glutinous rice. All manner of fresh fruit and vegetables. Especially raw. Yum! Here's the rub. I've lived in Thailand a bit but even in the most remote spots I've found good food. Where I am now is a bit of a conundrum. There are some carts, yeah. Aside from the preponderance of 7Elevens (which will from this point be known simply as "7") there are very few restaurants around camp. It's a hardcore camp as I've stated and I think that is reflected in the area. It took me 3 days to find Internet. This was a quest worthy of Sam Spade. Finally I learned to knock at seemingly closed pet food store - Ancient Grandfather takes you through laundrette/ dog kennel to knock on door with black painted window. Then you enter a small, sweltering room filled with teens and adolescents at frenzied play with online ganes. (Matt Makowski's of the world... unite and take over) The computers are fast enough, but I kid you not, they're coin-op. 45 minutes for 10 baht is Not bad. That's about 33 cents just now. So it took me till Thursday to finaly get the wig clipped. Shaved head and full-face straight razor shave for 50 baht! About $1.75! No nicks or cuts either. Feel like more of a fighter already. Definitely no rock star once the coif is gone. Damn. On the way to the barber I was side tracked by another quest. To find a suitable relic Buddha amulet for Candice. Easy enough to do here. Right away I found, Phra dtom Sua, something about tiger monk. You see, Candice's fight name is, Sualek, or little tiger. So what could be more fitting? So the spirit man /vendor lists the attributes for me as he has me examine the amulet through a jeweler's lupe as if I could distinguish authentic from fake. All very good till, like every salesman, he has to pitch one too far. "Protect you from bullets, " as he squeezes a demonstrative trigger finger. Wait a second. " I'm from Philly," I tell him. I'm pretty sure he followed up with, "no guarantee." I'm still considering. I've yet to find a working International phone, by the way. Usually not the case but probably for the best anyway. Isolation can distill the soul. It was Friday before I stopped feeling the phantom vibration of a cell phone in my pocket. However, to counter that is another unfortunate development. I've been TO Central (the single largest mall next to King of Prussia I have ever seen) 3 times this week. Again, if you know me even a little, you know I've been to malls in the States about that many times this decade. But for pharmacy, books ,etc. It's the only game in town. Only a $3 taxi fare though far from walking distance. It's air conditioned and I can get an honest cup of coffee for 50 baht. A lot more expensive than the 10 baht I pay each day for a can of Birdy ready made iced coffee from 7 but well worth it on occasion. As I pen this now, I sit sipping my 3rd Black iced coffee at Black Canyon Coffee. A forgotten pleasure of my last two trips to Thailand. The logo reads, "The best coffee is as black as the devil.. hot as hell... pure as an angel... and sweet as love!" (www.blackcanyoncoffee.com) How cool is that? With a strange Western theme, Starbucks this ain't. So yeah, I've metamorphosed into a Bangkok Mallrat. How's that for a Kharnic slap in the face? Which brings me to my last rant/ observation before I get back on track and finish with training speak: A devastating and oft overlooked by-product of globalization? Thai hipsters. I don't know which is worse, Filthsters or their SE Asian counterparts. (no offense Charlie and Justin) The Thais have cooler hair, that goes without saying. And of course infinitely less ironic facial hair. Another good thing is I cam pretend I don't understand what they're going on about. I do that in Philly too though. The downside is the hipster ethic here seems a bit more affested if that's possible, and certainly more posh. So first 5 days of training bhind me. As I always say, "fighters train every day." Well we at least get Sunday afternoon off. Morning training was solid. In fact they then take the bags and ring ropesdown each Sunday so you MUST rest. Also for routine maintenance and weekly cleaning. This coming week I'll begin running and up my strength training, which consists mainly of tons of crunches, pull-ups, push-ups and handweights. They're screaming, "yip yip" 20 20 then "sip sip" 10 10 while I hang from pull up bar. I drop and raise arms in victory, " sorn sorn" 2 2. they laugh. Hope to be able to clinch this week also. Within 3 days I'd already gained a notch on the belt so must have lost some weight though haven't sat on scale since day one. At least I've gone from everyone laughing, YES, I train shirtless, to asking me how long I stay and calling me "the rock" apparently and not "the dog". Sometimes regaliing me after pads with the odd chant of , "K1 K1" . That reminds me. There is a 23 year old Japanese K1 Max fighter also training here. I'll get his name. Must be long term becasue he's also enrolled in school. He's really something, especially his hands. Of course the Thais try to kill him daily in clinch sparring. No this camp is not for the faint of heart. Sleep on a cot in a room that is melting. Wake with the sun and train foryour breakfast. Your toilet is a hole in the ground. Though there are four of them! You shower twice a day from a four foot barrel of water with a bowl to pour overhead and ribse. This is also the laundry. The food is nutritious and delightful when you get it, but hunting is part of the fun. The fighters are all young, fit, and helpful in a wolfpack sense. They'll show you your faults let's just say. But from my own experience nothing good in life ever comes easy. If you can buy it without blood, sweat, and tears, you'll never truly own it. My hands and feet are bloody and blistered. My eyes swollen. My neck and now BOTH shoulders pulled and in pain. Pretty sure I pulled my left arse cheek though that may be a latent bowling injury from last Saturday. Despite all this and despite being alone in a crowd. I'm smiling... Until I have to type this later I guess. Chok di Khrap, Rigel - the palest, fattest Kru in the 'hood