Wednesday, 6 March 2013

There's a line drawn in the sand, I'm working up the will to cross it


It's a hard thing to leave any deeply routine life, even if you hate it - John Steinbeck

There's a few reasons why I wanted to write this today. I've had a big rush of things to say and, spurred on by watching videos of people making videos for the sake of making videos, I'm aware of the importance of self reflection.

I've had a lot of time to think over the past few days, what with travelling quite a lot, and I've reached a few important conclusions.

I'm officially retiring from the world of MMA Journalism.

In all honesty this isn't that big an announcement as it seems because I've not been writing online much since last July but I've been continuing my endeavors in print with Fighters Only. I've had some truly amazing experiences and would like to thank everyone for their support. It's been nothing short of incredible but the time has come to put it behind me and move forward. No more Ben "The Pen", to be fair I was getting sick of that anyway!

Secondly, I wanted to say thank you to everyone who helped me out, not only while I was away, but at any point on this crazy journey. There's way too many of you to mention but you know who you are, all of you.

Everyone who helped me out in any way this past weekend, however, I'm eternally in your debt. You all made what was a fairly insane experience, perfect. I couldn't have asked for a better time and the serenity I felt eating a shrimp burger and chatting with some really cool people made everything slow down a little bit which was perfect.

Rather than write a huge meandering blog about my travels this time, however, I thought I'd pin up a series of videos and images that sum up exactly my experiences.









Speak soon,
Take Care
Ben 



Sunday, 20 January 2013

The Perfect Snow Day


Thursday 17th January

All week I'd read the weather report. It changed on a daily basis from light snow to moderate snow, from be aware to be prepared.

Monday had bought us a flurry of snow that sadly retreated by mid morning. The promise of a hallowed snow day was hastily vanquished by the midday sun which almost seemed to taunt our grey building somehow.

I continued with the day to day ridiculousness of my usual job throughout the week but secretly hoped that the snow that we'd been promised for the end of the week would come back with a vengeance.

I finished the paperwork I'd put aside that afternoon as I wandered down the corridor, I noticed just how dark it had become.

The novelty of walking home in the dark had worn off but the last few days had been a reprise and the pitch black January sky took me aback as I prepared to make my way home.

Still, at least it wasn't raining.

The door opened to the unforgiving outside world and I looked up into the lamppost by the office to see nothing but thick snow falling at a rate of knots.

I steeled myself for the two mile jaunt and arranged my scarf about my head so I looked a little like the Iron Sheik, at least I was dry though.

It took a little longer than usual to get home but the snow didn't relent the whole time and my one saving grace, as I kicked my shoes off and Alison made me a cup of tea, was that the house was so snug that I instantly warmed up.

I lost track of the evening in a haze of trash television, pro wrestling and bagels but before I went to bed I looked quickly out of the window. I was disappointed not to see a snowy serenity akin to Dragonblight and sighed as I resigned myself to another snow day that didn't quite happen.

Friday 18th January

As the familiar tones of the alarm pulled me out of a blissful sleep without a second thought, I immediately remembered about the promise of snow. The Met Office had given a red warning in some areas (expect serious disruption) and I imagined just what that would mean for those stranded as I crawled out of bed.

There was more of a generous dusting of snow than I remembered the night before but nothing like the day after tomorrow that I was expecting. It was over. My dreams of a blissful day under a selection of blankets, playing Super Nintendo and eating crumpets were shattered and I moodily ate my honey hoops with an air of resignation.

I'd got myself ready in record time somehow and I wished my sleeping girlfriend a good day, she wasn't at work through her own good planning, but as I opened the door a sight greeted me that literally took my breath away.

The snow was falling hard and fast all around and I quickly retreated into the warmth temporarily as I grabbed a hat and a scarf. We're not meant to be adventurers anymore, society doesn't need us to be. There's not much left to discover. We live in a bubble in a lot of ways, ensconced by the luxury that the advances in technology afford us. This however, was as close to an adventure as I was going to get for a while.

As I trekked to work with a suitably huge soundtrack of videogame music from the 1990s, I was first aware of how much snow was falling by the main roads which were becoming whiter by the second.

Even the canal had frozen over and I hurried onwards to the sanctity of the office to find shelter from this unlikely storm.

I got to the office and was greeted by a few faithful sorts and we quickly swapped stories about our respective voyages.

The phone never stopped ringing at first as people called in to cancel whatever appointments they had booked.

The first e-mail that I received was one from head office. That was usually serious but this one simply told us about other branches that had been shut because of the severity of the weather.

I had 18 people booked in to see me at 10am but only 4 were able to make the trip; a poor turnout even by the usual standards. We'd originally been told that, if we had to leave to avoid being snowed in but weren't officially told to leave, we'd have to sacrifice annual leave because we'd not been instructed to leave, if that makes sense. It doesn't I know. I may be wrong but that's how it was explained to us.

This seemed like merely details though, because this snow flurry was passing the litmus test which usually weeds out most other would be snow days. It showed no signs of relenting, the roads were becoming covered in snow and the traffic past our office, one of the busiest roads in Stoke, was grinding to a halt.

I walked down the corridor to the office where my brother was located to ask if he needed a hand with anything. I sat writing envelopes to people for about 15 minutes while we all talked about sledging. This felt very real. These letters were taking forever.

This was to contact people who weren't able to be contacted by phone. Then it hit me all at once. This was it. There was going to be an announcement and it came almost instantly as the thought had left my head.

"We've been told if you've made plans for your afternoon clients then you're free to try and get home. You've made it in today so you won't be required to use annual leave for the rest of the day."

It was around 11:20 and my weekend had already started. I wished a safe journey to my friends and colleagues and began on my second snowy adventure of the day.

The door opened into the outside world and the blustery conditions intensified as I prepared to re walk the steps I had trodden only hours before. As I set out into the tundra I glanced back at the grey building that it felt like I'd just escaped from. The snow had given it a curious visage that attracted my glance but, not wanting to waste any time, I strode forward purposefully.

The traffic had stopped, thanks to a lorry that couldn't get up a hill, and I wondered about all the people this snow had disrupted.

I stopped off at the Co-op on my way to pick up some crumpets, crisps, milk and a few other snow day essentials but they soon grew heavy as I tackled the final hill across the canal.

This walk seemed longer than I remembered but my Ipod played a blinder by selecting some truly magical videogame classics. Link wouldn't get stuck up this hill, that was for sure.

Alison opened the front door as I made it up the steps. She immediately dipped into the bag to retrieve some Hula Hoops before ushering me into the warmth. That, as they say, was that.

The perfect start to the most perfect snow day I think I've ever had.

The last few days have been spent eating grilled bread products, making snowmen, shopping, playing videogames and drinking tea; everything a perfect snow day should contain really.

Usually there's a big point to writing whatever I'm writing but today, I just want to put this down so I never forget how much fun I had. I never want to take anything for granted but we live in a culture that promises us the world if we can wait another few days. We bypass the now in exchange for a brighter future but at what price?

Never forget the now.
You'll never relive it.

Take care
Ben



Friday, 11 January 2013

It was there. I was there. We were all there.

As I walked to work, accompanied by the rainy winter chill, I stared onwards for a bit longer than normal when I got to the end of the burned out road. 

The modern age affords us more and more luxuries on a daily basis but one that we take for granted is music.

What started as an intimate art form between groups of the like minded has quickly become yet another air bound currency. 

Why shouldn’t we be able to listen to the complete works of everything and anyone whilst traversing wastelands to our various 9-5 haunts?

There’s very little consequence to skipping eras that changed millions just to get what we want a little quicker. It’s hard to believe that anything could be more temporal than the throwaway culture that envelops us on a daily basis.

As the thought of strolling down another cold road became a grim reality I stopped for a brief second as warm sounding synthesiser bypassed my ears and swam straight into attention.

It was there. I was there. We were all there.
I stared up into the rain as beauty resonated and a voice negotiated me through empty rooms and corridors with an almost surgical clarity and precision.

I've got my life in a suitcase,
I'm ready to run, run, run away..
I've got no time, 'cause I'm always trying to run, run, run away
'Cause everyday in here feels like it's only a game.
I've got my life in a suitcase, a suitcase, a suitcase...
I could have stood there forever.

If you live at 100 miles an hour, you lose the sensation of speed that you craved all along.

For every time I drove across the country in the middle of the night, every story I listened to for the fourteenth time, every cliché I saw ticked and every heart I saw broken. Every shirt that was three sizes too small and every ego that was three hundred sizes too big. It all became worth it; every single second of it.

Saturday, 5 January 2013

Cage Warriors 51 - The Lost Vikings


29 shows.

That's unreal isn't it?

The crazy thing is that it's not even the most I've ever done in a year but it's undoubtedly the biggest. I did 34 shows in 2011 but I was writing a lot more. It's not that I don't write as much now but it's different.

I realised quite quickly that, when I started judging a lot more fights, there'd be a clear conflict of interest if I wrote in the way I loved writing. It's not to say I still don't have opinions but there's a time and a place for voicing them and a certain fashion.

Fighters Only is a perfect avenue for me to write about video gaming and other such things because of the angles I can take.

The 29th show this year was Cage Warriors 51 in Dublin on New Year's Eve. The last Dublin show was pretty nuts for several different reasons.

Fights were insane, venue was awesome but the crowd were some of the most passionate mma fans that I've seen for a very long time. Conor McGregor's sprint into the audience after he subbed Dave Hill was anarchy and I got another sense of that collective adrenaline from the moment the first bell rang for this show.

It was awesome to be back at the Helix and, after a day that involved watching War Games whilst falling asleep and eating Toblerone,  I was ready to judge some fights.

  • No Thin Lizzy? Really? I thought that was a law? I thought that, if you put on an mma show in Ireland, they did a draw backstage if nobody was planning to walk out to Thin Lizzy. 
  • You can't beat a bit of screaming Scandi metalcore to truly confuse an Irish crowd. 
  • Another flawless night from the men in charge inside the cage. Take a bow Messrs Mitchell, and Goddard. Consistently high level refereeing has been a hallmark of the show this year.

Take Care
Ben

Thursday, 13 December 2012

Cage Warriors 50 - Landmine

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.

Take Care
Ben

Friday, 30 November 2012

That night we'll never re-live


I think I need to stop writing these at work. You can't see what this office looks like but believe me it's hardly Club Tropicana.

Imagine the set of a terrible sitcom set in the 1970's featuring a load of belligerent and disgruntled factory workers and their out of touch boss. The walls are white woodchip and the shelves are full of nonsense.

I share it with a gentleman called Matt Spooner. He, like myself, is a cynical Samaritan.

We both want to help people but, in the modern workplace, that really isn't enough anymore. It's about ticking boxes and jumping through hoops to ensure that people I'll never meet make more money than I'll ever see in a lifetime.

I think that's the problem with teaching in this kind of training provider context.

Everything is done to make money, not to help people out. I'm pretty sure that my cynical side has flourished more in two years here than it did during six years teaching young offenders.

Anyhow what's the point of this one?

There isn't a point I don't think. Writing just stops me thinking. I think that's why I'm doing it. I've not got a point or a message but sometimes I wonder if there always has to be one.

When I first started writing I would ponder for hours over drafts of different text. I'm not saying I don't edit things now but I often find that when I switch off a little bit that the best stuff happens. It's hard to define best . I think I mean writing that's a more accurate reflection of where I currently am.

It's Friday and

As I was writing this my boss walked in and gave me something menial to do so I look busy. It's the inference that I'm somehow mutinous that I resent the most I think.

Anyhow I digress.

I hope you people have a great weekend.
Thanks for taking the time
Speak soon
Take Care
Ben








Tuesday, 30 October 2012

Cage Warriors 49 - King of the Monsters


Sucks to be back at work again.

Everyone says that on these things right?

Well we can't all be wrong. Unless you are lucky enough to do something you love for a living.

Maybe even then it starts becoming like work somehow like it did when I was writing more for a living. I guess it's the human condition.

We just find it really sad, we thought being in a band would be so brilliant and yet it just becomes a routine like anything else. 

You know, whatever you choose to do in life, even if you love it, within a few months of doing it it's just the same thing every day but now it's just - wake up, travel, sound check, gig, wake up, travel, sound check, gig. 

When we first started that was brilliant and now it's just the same. There's something about human nature that just reduces life down to a routine.
Richey Edwards

This week's bundle of shiny violence came courtesy of Cage Warriors. I've been lucky enough to judge 10 of their events this year and every single one has been special in some way or another.

There's been no shortage of great fights, awesome company and phenomenal tea to be had throughout 2012 but I already knew that this show in Wales was going to be an amazing experience.

Cage Warriors 49 marked the organizational judging debut of my long time mma comrade Mr. David Lethaby who, after slogging away judging fights for years just like myself, got the call to head to Wales and make sense of it all.

The trips would include a flask of tea, S-Express, a long discussion about the Eastern front of the Second World War and some shortbread. Our hotel was out of the way but luckily enough we jumped in a cab with the usual suspects to get to the venue.

The evening was a cacophony of local heartache and close fought battles which I shall attempt to recount.
  • Welsh fans love a bit of a singalong don't they. Yes that's obvious but it's a true spectacle to behold when you look up into the crowd to see hundreds of Welsh types singing "You Jack Bastard" as anyone from Swansea walks in.
  • If you're sitting at a table with sweets that are yours and somebody says "What's that up there?", it's always a trap. Always. Damn you people.
  • Once again a quick shout out to the likely lads who made the after show event such a civilised do. There's something magical about that first cup of tea after an mma event. That's some of my favourite stuff right there.
KING OF THE MONSTERS

It's obvious ain't it?

I'm off to for the first walk home in the dark of 2012 so, if I make it home, I'll speak to you good people very soon.



Take Care
Love Always
Ben