Danny
“Alright Jameson, that was good. But you need to move quicker. Your strongest point is grappling. You need to get your opponent to the ground as quickly as possible.” I tell the twenty-year-old fighter that I’m working with. Truthfully, this kid has a shit load of potential. He works harder than any of the other guys here. Always listens to what everyone tells him and never complains. I wish I had ten of him.
His general size works pretty well for him. At 6’7, he’s one of the biggest guys around. His muscle mass is incredibly impressive for someone his age. If it wasn’t for his baby face, that blonde hair, and bright baby blue eyes, you would never guess that he’s so young.
Although considering how many girls flock to him when he’s around, they seem to like that smooth skin of his. When he wears a collared shirt he looks more like a yuppy than someone who would ever step foot into a cage. That also probably has something to do with how well-mannered the kid is.
But that just goes to show that looks can be very deceiving.
“You got it Reaper.” He says automatically. All the guys still call me by my nickname. A nickname that I worked hard for and earned.
“Okay guys, show me what you got.” I tell them while standing on the side watching them fight. I watch as Jameson moves quicker and gets Edgar to the ground fairly quickly. Jameson is trying to get him in an arm bar, a move that usually gets your opponent to tap out pretty quickly, but not able to do it effectively.
The arm bar is one of the most used joint lock submissions in MMA. It’s performed by placing your legs across your opponent’s chest, with one of his arms between your thighs and with the elbow joint against your hips. From that position, your opponent’s arm is grabbed with your arms and his forearm is placed onto your chest. To lock up the arm, you lean back and arch your hips at the same time. This creates extreme pressure in the elbow joint and usually causes your opponents to tap out fairly quickly. If the person doesn’t tap out quickly enough, they risk serious damage to themselves.
“Jameson!” I yell, making both fighters stop. My arms are crossed against my chest and I’m shaking my head. “Come on man, what are you doing? You should have this by now. This shit is one of the very first moves that you learned. Do it again!” I growl out.
He has so much fucking potential, but can’t do a proper arm bar to save his life.
I stand here and watch as he fucks it up yet again. I scrub my hand down my face.
“Pick up your hips more!” I yell. “Make sure that his arm is by your shoulder.” For the love of God. I’m going to lose my shit in two seconds.
I can’t keep watching this. “Stop!” I call out. “Edgar out of the ring. Go take a break and get some water.” I say as I walk into the ring.
Both guys are panting hard and have sweat rolling down their faces. They’ve been at this for the last forty-five minutes. I should probably give Jameson a break too, but he needs to get this shit on lock already. He has a match coming up in a few months and can’t be screwing this up anymore.
“I don’t know man. I just don’t get why I’m not sticking it.” Jameson says to me from where he’s sitting on the mat catching his breath.
“Doesn’t matter. We gotta fix this shit. I’m not going to let you have a match when you can’t do a simple arm bar. You will get your ass lit up man.”
He groans and rubs his hands over his eyes. “I know.” He agrees.
“Okay, it’s just going to be me and you for now. I’m gonna help you get this shit down no matter what.” I tell the kid as I get down onto the mat. Might as well start off where we need to be. He’s good at getting his opponents to the ground. He doesn’t need my help with any of that.
“You sure?” He eyes me warily. This motherfu….
“What do you mean? Of course I’m sure. Why the hell wouldn’t I be?” I growl.
He lifts his hands in surrender. “No reason, Reaper. It was just a question, that’s all. I just haven’t seen you step into the ring in awhile, that’s all.”
I narrow my eyes and grit my teeth. “How about you just worry about yourself?”
“Okay, no problem.” He nods his head and swallows. For a fighter, he’s probably the most non-confrontational person that I’ve ever met. I swear this kid becomes more of an enigma every day.
We stare at each other for a few seconds before he averts his eyes.
“Just get set up. Think you can do that?” I grumble like an asshole.
I see his cheek twitch, but he just nods his head. We both know that I’m being a dick, he also knows that he’s been fucking up a simple move. We’re such an amazing pair right now.
We both get into position, he grabs my right elbow and starts to drag it to his shoulder. I can feel him trying to pick his hips up towards me to try to create the force that’s needed. However, he doesn’t seem to be able to arch high enough to cause the right amount of pressure.
“Okay J, grab onto my arm a little harder while arching your back up higher. You need to create more pressure. Also, make sure to try to get perpendicular to me to make the move more effective.”
“Got it.” He grunts.
Only he doesn’t wait for me to go back on guard and does all the movements in one foul swoop.
I’m not sure what registers first, the loud crack or the blinding pain. But one second everything is fine and the next I’m yelling out “FUCK”!
Jameson releases me automatically, but we both know that the damage has been done. And considering that you could hear a pin drop, so does everyone else around the gym.
I cradle my right arm to my chest and look around at all the wide eyes looking at me. I bite down on the inside of my cheek as even breathing seems to send lightning bolts of pain radiating through what seems to be my entire body.
“Will someone call a fucking ambulance?” I yell out and watch everyone scatter like cockroaches.
Jameson is looking at me like he’s just seen a ghost. He’s gripping the ends of his short hair. “Reaper, I’m so sorry. I did what you said. I swear that I didn’t know that you weren’t ready.” I can feel the regret that’s coming off of him in waves.
“It’s fine. Not like I’ve never broken a bone before.” As a fighter, I’ve had my fair share. Which is why I know that this one is bad, but I won’t let him in on that. The kid feels bad enough. It was an honest mistake. No need to make him feel more like shit than he already does.
He’s squatting down so that we’re at eye level. “What can I do to help?”
“Get behind me and help me stand up. Just try not to move my arm too much.”
He does as I say and gets behind me. He puts his arms under my armpits and slowly pulls me upwards as I use my feet to get off the mat. I grit my teeth so hard that I’m sure that I’ve cracked one. The pain is beyond intense and I start to see black dots when my arm jostles even the slightest.
Fuck, this is going to be bad. I’ve had an impressive list of injuries over the years, but I’ve never come close to feeling like I’m about to pass out from the pain.
“Ambulance is fifteen minutes out Reaper!” One of the guys yells out.