Narrative on Muay Thai

Kevin Macmonigle

Dr. Hedgecock

English 1A

16 September 2015

Fear of Failure

        I was 15 years old, small and inexperienced at the time, getting ready to step in the ring for my first fight ever. Everything boiled down to this one moment. The months of training for the fight would only matter right now. As I walked into the ring, I could feel the energy of the crowd and all the mixed emotions building up. Looking back in my corner to see my coaches and friends I have made during my time training for the fight was an unexplainable feeling that I will never forget. Excitement and fear began to build up inside me. I wasn’t completely sure where my mind was, but I knew that there could only be one winner, and I always hated to lose. As I looked into the red corner to see my opponent, I saw a 36 year old man wearing red boxing gloves staring me down. It was all or nothing at this point. The bell rang, and it was on.

        Fighting was never really in my blood when I was young. I was always fascinated by martial arts but I never took part in any. Perhaps I was too insecure at the time to take action. So instead I fell into the comfort of following the same athletic road that my older brother created. This involved a lot of soccer. By following his footsteps, I didn’t feel unique. Being unique was something that appealed to me but I still never took action of my own life. This changed in my freshman year of high school where I encountered some people who would find it satisfying to ridicule anyone who seemed inferior just to inflate their egos. I was small for my age, and an easy target. Being one of their victims, I became sick of it. One day, a kid by the name of Daniel thought he could impress his buddies in the P.E class by taking me down and proceeding to choke me. This event sparked a flame in me that hasn’t died since. Something needed to change.

        In the desire for a change, I told myself that I wanted to create my own path and do something that no one I knew has done before me. This led to my conclusion in picking the most challenging sport that I knew of: Muay Thai. Muay Thai, literally translated as “the art of eight limbs,” is a combat sport that is characterized by its use of fists, knees, elbows and shins. It is a stand up striking style of fighting with the addition of various clinching techniques. It is considered one of the most dangerous martial arts due to its violent nature and high knock-out rate. That undying flame led to me finding the nearest Muay Thai gym and signing up. I began training toward the end of the school year, and when summer came around, I trained twice a day and 5 days a week. I didn’t have too many friends at the time, so I pretty much dedicated my whole summer to training. But I loved it, and the coaches saw that. About 3 months in to training, I was put into a fight camp. Fight camp was one of the hardest phases of training. It was really physically demanding as conditioning was the main focus. Eventually, one of the coaches asked me if I wanted to fight. I was up for the challenge, as I wasn’t training for nothing. But my mom was totally against it, she still is to this day. I still stuck with my plan, and I had my dad sign the waiver, who was a bit more supportive.

        As the harsh forms of training and conditioning continued, the day of my first fight was getting closer day by day. November 10th, 2012 was the day of my first fight, and I was preparing for it almost every day visualizing every possible scenario of winning the fight. I was telling myself that there was no way I was going to lose this fight because of all of the hard-work and sacrifices made to get to this point. The persona that I displayed showed confidence, but really there was some sort of anxiety, a fear of losing this match in front of everybody; something that I feel every fighter goes through.

        The next thing I know is that it is fight night. I felt confident as I was warming up in preparation to bring home a win. I’ve went through countless hours of rigorous training hitting pads, smashing the heavy bag, and sparring tough and experienced guys. I was not going to allow myself to lose. I’ve watched my diet carefully to make sure that I would make weight and feel healthy. After the warm ups in the back, I began to walk out as I hear my name announced on the speakers. The energy of the crowd fueled the fire, and at this point I saw my opponent in the other corner. What I saw was a 36 year old grown man with a beard and several tattoos all over his body. “Are you serious? This guy is old enough to be my dad.” I thought, “I’m actually going to be fighting him?” Although I started becoming a bit anxious, I despised the idea of quitting, so there was no backing out at this point. I continued and was ready to put on one good fight.

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