Tuesday, 4 June 2013

Ninety days around the world

Click this, it'll make sense I promise
When you get off a train that you've been on for a long time, you nearly always take a few quick steps. That's not the tough bit though, not the tough bit at all.

The tough bit is adjusting to the fact that you're no longer traveling at speed. You stumble as your head struggles to fathom why the trees are no longer just a blur of emerald and why there's no constant rush of noise.

A simple realization hit me on Sunday as I sat on the train holding my Megadrive bag filled with clothes, presents and a Toblerone.

This is really happening isn't it.
This is a thing.

A while ago myself and Dave Lethaby interviewed Jeremy Horn, back when we were part of the mma media fraternity, for Yourmma Radio.

It was fascinating to hear about the stories from the NHB days; how he'd turn up with no idea about who he was fighting, and end up winning by sub inevitably.

My favourite part though was when Horn was shortlisted for fighter of the year and he was puzzled by this. By his own admission he was a guy "fighting in tents and hockey arenas in the cornfields", not looking for mass approval or recognition.

His manager asked him how many fights he'd had that year and the total, certainly by today's standards, was incredibly in the region of thirty. His manager then asked how many that he had lost to which Horn simply replied, "None of them."

Sometimes it really does take a reminder from an outside party or a set of specific circumstances to be the catalyst for an unbelievable moment of clarity.

If life was obvious then the shooting star moment would have been as the bus pulled out of the Saitama Super Arena or as the frantic Brazilian crowd at Arena Jaragua exploded but it wasn't.

It was sitting alone on the Sunday train from Manchester Picadilly stopping at Stockport, Stoke-on-Trent, Milton Keynes Central and London Euston as I listened this song.

It hit me all at once. I got chills and all the hairs stood up on my arms and the back of my neck. It wasn't just the song. It was everything. This is everything. It found me.

94 fights in 90 days? 

It doesn't seem real does it.
It was though.
It was more real than a million words on this page could tell you.

I've got a bit of a break for the next few weeks before this all begins again so, until the next time we speak, take care of yourselves and remember to be nice to the ones you love. Simple I know, but too easy to forget sometimes.


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