Whats up you freaky fucks? I am going to frequently tell funny, crazy and plain dumb stories from the "road". Realistically,  this will include stories from the gyms, fights and tales from traveling from show to show over the years. What a fucking doozie I have for you savages first.....

Circa 2011 and I am training in Canton Il at the infamous Silverbacks/ Central Illinois Combat Club. Over the years we had a lot of younger guys and girls come and go. Most of which never fought or fought 1 or 2 times and never showed back up again.. Many of them were nice people but they were delusional about who they were and what they were capable of. This story is about one of those kids. 

We had this younger guy ( maybe 18-20) and he was not very good. Great guy with a heart of gold but he sucked. He was not athletic or even in good shape. He really wanted to test himself and even competed 2 times I believe. It is middle/ late December and Christmas is fast approaching. It is a Monday night and Christmas is 2-3 days away. I look over and I see this younger, chubby, super nice kid drilling submissions on the ground and he has a cut off rash guard on. He has a huge ( golf ball sized) ringworm on his shoulder. So, being the dick I am. I start yelling to get the fuck off the mat now! He tells me he is not going to sweat and have any contact with anyone else. I have to explain to him it does not work like that and we go back and forth for a few minutes. It finally comes down to me yelling that if he doesn't get off the mats right now I was going to fuck him up. This finally got him off the mats and I went as far to tell him that if I got ring worm in the next few says I was going to beat him so badly he would never train again. He was clearly shook and I was super fucking serious as I had a fight in early January that I would not be able to fight in if I got ringworm that bad.

As you can probably guess, I got ringworm. Not only did I get ringworm but It showed on my skin first on Christmas morning. ON MY FUCKING FACE. HUGANTIC RED RINGS OF IM GOING TO KILL YOU MOTHER FUCKER.

Fast forward a few days and the first training session after Christmas as I have been scrambling to the Dr. for shots, using medicated creams and even scratching it open and pouring bleach on them rings, I am praying this kid shows up. He walks in the door. I am basically in the same mindset as the cage but I know this kid has nothing for me. I tell him to " suit up" meaning put on your sparring gear. I told him what happened and he was dumb enough to stay and spar me. I set the clock at 5 min. I then beat the shit out of this kid for 2- 5 min rounds really badly. I think I was pulled off by other guys in the gym 3 times in 2 rounds as he was TKO'D. I remember beating on him really bad and was not tryin to put him to sleep but make him take the beating for as long as he could. He would go down and I would pick him up and make him keep going. I was yelling at him the entire time and also telling him if he stopped he had to leave and never came back. He took it and took it. One of the worst I have ever beat anyone's ass in my life and the only thing that saved him was the shin guards and big gloves. 

I know I sound like a POS arrogant egomaniac. I was. That is not why I chose this story though. I chose this one because crazy gym stories happen every day all over the world. That gym bond you have with anyone you train hard with or go to war with is deep. The kid in the story works at the Walmart in my hometown and I still see and talk to him to this day. Its all part of the game. 

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