Imagine that.
You're in a fight. You break your foot on the other guy's shin, early in round one. He is fresh, you're not controlling him at all and you're locked inside a cage with him, in front of millions of people, for another twenty to twenty-five minutes. Your foot hurts, it's swollen like a baseball and you can't kick with it anymore. You're deprived of a weapon that made you a feared man. A weapon that made you a successful champion and a legend in a young sport.
Now, what do you do? You're seriously injured and you have another man swinging away at you, looking to take everything from you. As good as a fighter you are, your life has been defined by that golden strap you've been wearing. All of the success you've had in your short and difficult life is stemming from it. Are you going to step down to fight another day? What if your foot doesn't heal right? Can you fight over the pain, win and be the same fighter again? Of course you can. That's why you bite into your mouthpiece, block the horrible pain that's seeping through your adrenaline barrier and you do what you did all your life : you find a way to win.
Or maybe you're the challenger.
You were never supposed to get that fight. It was promised to another guy, but it was given to you when he got hurt. Not because you're particularly good or exciting, but because you were willing to take the opportunity on a few weeks notice. As you're landing a decent punch on the champ, your shoulder pops out of its socket. What do you do? It's a big fucking injury. One that will render you defenseless. Do you crumble and give the fight away? Fuck no. If you do, you'll be sent to the back of the queue and forgotten there. No more spotlight, no more obscene pay checks, you're bound to fight scrubs on undercards or to serve as fresh meat for up and comers. So you desperately try to pop your shoulder back in IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FIGHT, while one of the planet's most dangerous men is swinging at you and hope something good will happen. It may be futile and reckless, but what else are you gonna do? Stop?
Each time I'm ready to throw the towel on martial arts, something like this happen. Watching Jose Aldo and Chang Sung Jung go through potentially life-altering dilemmas in the cage, last Saturday was a visceral and inspiring experience to me. The choices they faced, the decisions they took in the blink of an eye, in the eye of the storm, represent what it really means to be a fighter. It embodied the spirit of martial arts.