it. Milton said that once I was ready, he would put me into competition that was appropriate for my skill level and that he would never use one of his team members as a lamb to feed a lion fight. On the other hand, if I wanted to participate in higher competitions at some point in the future, he could also set that up.
Milton is a short, stocky guy, with broad shoulders and a square face accompanied by a granite jaw. He looks like a typical wrestler, but he has trained in many forms of martial arts. He was a straight shooter, and I respected that. The way I looked at it was this: if you’re looking for a lemon car for $400 and want your ego stroked by a Las Vegas-style car dealer, you know what you’re getting yourself into. But, when you are looking to compete in boxing, kickboxing, jiu-jitsu, and MMA, where your bodily organs are at stake, I would rather go with the “no B.S. approach.” Milton has a very calming presence, which definitely came from years of training. He is a nice guy but you wouldn’t want to get on his bad side, as he could do some real damage.
I began attending as many classes as I could, each one focusing on different components of the fight game, usually with different instructors. There were a bunch of jiu-jitsu instructors, a judo instructor, boxers, and kickboxers. We always started with warm-ups and then proceeded to the technical aspects of the game, to rolling (ground grappling) or sparring to finish off the hour or two. I loved rolling, which essentially meant practice grappling while trying to submit your partner. We took each other down to work on our wrestling skills. Then, we would go in for the kill with some form of submission, a joint manipulation or choke to make the partner tap or nap. Although we never went hard enough to hurt each other, we would push enough to know that we could have done some damage if we wanted to.
It was an exhilarating feeling, a primitive awakening that could occur in any of us in one way or another. The technical aspects were fun, too, as I was soaking up knowledge like a sponge. It was back to school for me, except this time in a fun way, in the school of hard knocks.
On the Tuesday of my second week, I was contemplating not going to class, as I was sore from training and tired from work. I mustered up some energy and dragged myself to class. I had learned an entire four jiu-jitsu moves by then; in this fifth class, I learned the rear naked choke. As we practiced on each other, I seemed to get the hang of this move quickly, unlike some of the other moves that were a little too advanced for me at the time.
In the class, we rolled for five-minute rounds with the goal of getting verbal or physical taps. After the five minutes, we received a quick minute of rest before changing partners.
I was partnered with a 6' 6"-tall cop who had been training on and off for a year, and I was amazed at how quickly I could get his back, and “boom,” I clamped the rear naked choke and he quickly tapped out. I thought that he must have been taking it easy on me. We regrouped and just as quickly I found myself on his back with my hooks in, and seconds later I got another tap! Two taps within one minute, I was ecstatic, while he was not. He slammed his fist on the mat as his face turned red. I figured he was just being hard on himself with no disrespect aimed at me.
We regrouped again, but this time he was really putting some pressure on me in side mount, which meant that while I was on my back, he was situated sideways with his chest on mine, pinning me down. It was definitely not where I wanted to be. With a grunt, he had the Kimura on me, a shoulder lock that can shred the deltoid muscles if one does not tap. My reaction was to straighten my arm straight above my head; little did I know, it was one of the better escape methods to get out of the Kimura lock. With an explosive thrust of my hips, I jolted him into the air and scrambled, taking his back and submitting him once more. He was livid at this point. He stood up and left for the change room. I looked at the clock and noticed there were two minutes left to go, so I took a break before the next partner came up. That day really left an impression on me. This sport takes humility, self-control, honor, and a willingness to evolve and overcome obstacles to truly reach one’s potential.
As the weeks went by, I got used to getting choked and tapped out, but worst of all hit, and hit hard. I dreaded sparring sessions, as I would enter the cage with many training partners ranging from novices to pros. Some guys were lenient toward my lack of knowledge, while others saw a great opportunity to use me as a punching bag. I would get bloody noses regularly, but never black eyes for some reason. I quickly learned that the toughest opponents were small, quick guys who seemed to have a never-ending gas tank. Guys over 200 pounds were better to face off with, as they were slower and I seemed to find rest opportunities in the rounds, giving me time to better formulate my attacks.
Some days, we had “king of the mats rolling,” which meant that we were split into two groups in a tournament-style set up. If you lost against any opponent, you were disqualified and did not proceed. Winning let you proceed to the next round until one man stood out as the king. I regularly did well but never won. My day came; I won the first round with a guillotine, which is a type of head lock submission that puts strain on the neck and chokes you at the same time. My second opponent was a big guy, about 250 pounds, and he was strong! He slammed me on my back. I guess he wanted to win just as badly as I did, and I knew I was in for a hard round.
I had him in my guard, which meant that while on my back I had my legs wrapped around his torso. It’s not the worst place to be, but also not the best, and we both knew it. He was trying hard to pass the guard and lock me in a submission to gain the advantage. But the beauty of jiu-jitsu, literally translated from Japan as “the gentle art,” is that technique will always conquer strength in the grappling realm. I went for an arm bar, swinging my leg across his face while holding his arm, which put tremendous pressure on his elbow joint and forearm.
He lifted me off the mats and slammed me down in a last effort to save his place in the tournament, and it worked. The intense slam made me loosen my grip on his arm and he took the opportunity to pull his arm out. Within the scramble, I got my guard back and kept him close as I sucked in his head to my chest to catch a breath. From there, I saw the perfect opening to my favorite move. I reached around his arm and pushed it across his face with my left hand as I sucked in his head with my right hand to lock it in, known as the “head & arm triangle.” From this point, there was a lot of pressure on his neck, choking him out, but I took it a step forward to gain more leverage. I popped my hips and twisted to the left to roll him on his back to reverse our positioning so that I was on top, keeping a lock on the head & arm triangle. I simply proceeded to the side mount, where I went to the same side of the choke to apply extra pressure, and I knew he was done. About two seconds later, he tapped. I immediately let go of the choke and he took a big breath of air deep into his lungs. I just made my place in the finals.
In the finals, my opponent was a really athletic guy that I knew would be a handful. He was boney and technical, my nightmare. I kept my mind on track; I wanted this win too much to let him get in my head. We circled for a good twenty-five seconds before I went in for the shot, a single-leg takedown, where I lunged in on him with one knee on the mats with the rear leg following to the front while I grabbed his front leg, placing me in a squat-like position. This kept the momentum moving to his side, which made him lose his balance and fall.
“Wow,” I thought in revelation. “I took this guy down.” It gave me a huge boost of confidence. I knew that if I could use my strength to offset his speed, I could finish this. I used my elbows to put pressure on his inner thighs to the point that he opened up his guard, just what I needed to pass. Once I was in his side mount, I was having difficulty keeping him down. He had squirmy hips, which meant he was not half bad on the ground. I had to work twice as hard to keep my position. I was breathing really hard while he stayed composed. The lactic acid was really starting to set in at this point, my muscles were burning and I was having difficulties getting a good breath in. But, one thing I was beginning to learn through all of my MMA training was that I had heart. My arm could have stopped working from all of the lactic acid built up in my shoulders, but I would still keep going with one arm. There was no way in hell, in my mind, that I was not going win.
I tried going
