I'm not running out of games.
I'll never run out of games.
This month's been a great one for gaming to be honest. Sony finally pulled their fingers out and put Castlevania: Symphony of the Night on the PSN and I won auctions on Sunset Riders, Parodius and Megaman X for my SNES.
It's good, it's always been good.
I've also ordered a few shirts from Meatbun.us as well. Insert Coin is cool in places but is quickly becoming a bit redundant somehow. That being said I rocked a Viva King shirt this past weekend.
This Saturday I worked my 11th Cage Warriors show this year and it began, as they all do, with a voyage.
Myself and Lethaby hopped on the 9:17 train from Stoke station and, after a quick change in Crewe, settled in for the 250 mile voyage with my Blackberry playbook and a boat load of mid 2000's mma to watch.
I had all kinds of Pride on there but it was Cage Rage that inevitably drew my attention somehow. It was cool looking back at that era where I was such a fan and seeing all the people I regularly chat to at shows now. I even saw a young looking Marc Goddard walking out with Ross Mason.
Dave's opening tack of "Hello Marc, I saw you on an old Cage Rage show on the trip here; you looked about half the size," didn't go as well as he thought it would in his head I imagine but that's another story.
The trip was really relaxing and a nice contrast to the usual marathon drives I've become so used to. I watched as the bustling countryside eventually became a snowy wilderness as we moved towards the highlands. As the train pulled into the final station before Glasgow I became more aware of the people outside, enthralled in the truly everyday.
For a brief few minutes I felt the most overwhelming sense of the Debord as I sat in the perfectly contained warmth and watched society tick over in front of my eyes. I couldn't have stopped anything from happening or purveyed my sense of attachment to these people running up and down and making decisions. It was empowering a funny kind of way. It's kind of romantic to watch the world go by from a safe place and, as much as I was aware of the way in which this spectacle mirrored most of our waking minutes, it filled me with many questions.
There's always many questions. Before I could ask any of them though, the train pulled into Glasgow Station and we went out for a wander before the show. On arriving in city centre, Dave and I grabbed an all you can eat Indian Buffet for 6 quid each, when in Rome and all that, and then made our way to the venue. It's nice to roll into a strange place and see familiar faces. Everything seems fine at that point. I was ready to judge some truly amazing scraps and I wasn't disappointed.
Let's cut to the chase.
Wilson Reis vs. Owen Roddy was the best CW fight of 2012.
You need to watch it. Get a hot drink. I won't judge you if it's not tea. Sit and watch it all the way through. You get it right? I mean you want to watch it again straight away and replay the crazy bits. It's exactly what fighting should be about. Exactly.
I learned a lot of things in Scotland.
1) Don't hide a Toblerone from Graham Boylan
2) 100 street fights will all end the same if you're employing the face down rope a dope
3) That last quote was from Peter Irving. How that dude doesn't have more Twitter followers is a mystery.
4) Getting home is always glorious when you've got someone lovely to see.
5) There's more to come, much much more.
6) This adventure is made possible thanks to so many people but also made enjoyable by my fellow officials and personnel. You know who you are.
The rest of the card was sublime. Dan Hope impressed me, Scott Askham impressed everyone and Brandon Hempleman showed unreal athleticism in a sublime display against Paul McVeigh.
The Scottish people I met were nice but nobody walked out to the Proclaimers. I walked straight back into the hotel to see a messy wedding going on blasting out this gem. We all watched the UFC afterwards as well and, as much as it was heartbreaking to watch idols fall, the fact that I was with friends made it all worth it.