Friday Night Fights
And by “my first fight” I don’t mean that time, when I was 5, and I kneed a boy in the face for calling me a “chink”.
I meant my first experience at Friday Night Fights at the Broad Street Ballroom.
Thanks to my stunning friend Dana, who happens to be one of Friday Night Fights’ regular ring girls, I got press access for this monthly event, where opponents become rhythmically intimate with each others elbows and knees.
See how I made that sound sweet?
The event, which I had thought of as more of a secret affair, was definitely more popular than I had anticipated: There was line of people waiting in a line outside, freezing.
Now, when I see people waiting in line, especially in the cold New York streets, one of two things happens. Either I’m extremely annoyed: “Why are you waiting for brunch? Why? I don’t understand?” or, I become intrigued with the thing they are waiting to see.
This time, the latter occurred.
With a newly peaked curiosity, I entered the Broad Street Ballroom. Music was playing, people with badges were buzzing about, everyone was wearing wristbands…It sort of reminded me of the setting for an underground rave. Mind you, I’ve never been to one of those.
But I watch a lot of TV.
For my initiation to the event, I was seated between the commentators for the night, Pheonix Carnevale and Gavin Van Vlack, and one of the judges. And we were flush against the ring.
Not too shabby.
I’ve always been what my mom considers unladylike. I loved playing touch football in the rain, watching action movies. I love fighting video games and I kicked boys for calling me chink…
Furthermore, I’ve always had a deep appreciation for the relationship between athletes and their coaches. And I knew that the seating arrangement for the night would put me in earshot of coaches acting as their fighters stream of consciousness while they were in the ring.
All this to say, that I knew that no matter what, I was going to find some enjoyment in the night.
However, I also know that many people are turned off by these events. The hits, the potential for blood, it can be a lot to take: if that’s the only angle you’re looking at it from.
When I broached the “barbaric acts” angle with Phoenix, a well known face in the NYC Muay Thai scene and who herself, has been training in the sport for 6 years, she put it very simply:
“It’s just like any other sport, except instead of scoring a basket over your opponent, you punch him in the face. […] it’s an experiment. If you lose, you go back and figure out why it didn’t work, and find an equation to help you win next time.”
“People think because I train in Muay Thai that I’m an angry person. But the only thing that makes me angry is the Subway!”
Doesn’t sound so bad now does it?
I always love talking with people who practice different fighting forms. And no matter what style they practice, there seems to be a consensus on this fact: It’s not about the violence.
Sure, in essence, there is violence involved.
However, it’s more about discipline. The skill involved in training your brain and body to communicate with each other. The self awareness you need to calm your mind so you can see that opening that will help you win.
All things you can carry with you outside of a fight.
It takes a tremendous amount of perseverance and humility to put your body through the rigors of training, risk getting beat up in front of a crowd, and then bow (and hug) the person who just beat you.
And throughout the night, I saw over and over: as soon as that last bell rang, opponents hugged and bowed to each other’s coaches.
And to think that some people can’t even lose an argument gracefully!
So, if you’ve never tried attending fight because you are turned off by the violence part of it, or if you have gone to one, but didn’t understand the appeal, I’d suggest you try it with fresh lenses. You might come to appreciate it more than you thought you did.
And if you start to feel queasy about it, just calm your chi by likening it to a night out dancing at the bar:
There’s alcohol being served.
Lots of elbows and knees flying around.
Occasionally, a hot girl walks by.
A song by JT inevitably plays.
And hey, sometimes someone pukes, and sometimes someone falls.
But in the end, everybody hugs.
