Charles Bronson
old timey gentleman
i fought mma when it was a relatively "new thing"
when you could still kick people on the ground, small joint manipulations ( break holds by bending peoples thumbs)
anyway.. the cages back then were really just slapped the fuck together, chain link fence with galvanized post that had padding zip tied to them, mats might be canvas right over plywood , or god damn 2'' thick padding under weird indoor/ outdoor carpet
i was matched up with some guy that had wrestled in college, i just tee'd off on this guy and his defense was to put hit head down and swat his arms around. apparently he trained stand up for this fight by mimicking an orangutang fighting with a beehive
i wobbled his ass about a minute in, he was laying on the fence with his eyes rolling around in his head mouth breathing and i threw a hard right hand that started somewhere in texas and came through the florida panhandle on the way to his brains
when you throw a hard right hand from orthodox, think of a major league batter following through on his swing, hip rotation, that read driving foot pivots on the ground..
well my fucking foot had sunk into these squishy mushy fucking wrestling mats, and instead of my heel coming off the ground and pivoting - my foot was sucked into the mats and my god damn knee wrenched.. femur rotating on top of my tibia
i connected witht hat shot, and the ref jumped in and waved off the fight - tyrone was gone but i had torn my knee to shreds..
promoters insurance ws almost non existent, i had an intake where i was told i needed surgery.. a ligament from a fucking cadaver? no thanks
i went for physical therapy instead. wore an immobilizer until my right leg had atrophied nearly three inches, then was assigned a PT
my therapist told me id likely never run or box or participate in athletics at any kind of level i was used to without surgery. torn meniscus and no2 grade ACL tear.. i could forget coming back to fighting
i busted my ass in pt, the hardest part was NOT doing anything..
after 12 weeks, my visits were up.. i couldn't afford to pay out of pocket to continue therapy, but my PT told me she would see me , would come to my house or i could come to hers, once a week to continue therapy as long as i worked hard and was progressing
first week i went to her house, i met her boyfriend.. her high school sweet heart and fiancé. this guy was some ambercrombie and fitch model, had done commercials with old navy. mixed breed half white/ half native guy like 6'3 and 200 lbs.
zero charisma, zero fucking brains. i hated him immediately, in my head i nicknamed him " mr perfect"
my PT really was a good friend to me.. i really liked this girl. she was intelligent. classy..
i asked her - how in the fuck is someone so smart and driven with such a lame empty headed fuck? she blushed, visibly.. told me they'd met while modeling in high school , had been together 8 years
then i found out he was native american.. and so he went from "mr perfect" to " chief proud foot"
god how i hated him.
my PT had a swimming pool, had me climb into the pool and do lateral movement in the pool to strengthen the muscles around my knee.. here i was doing water aerobics like some old turd in a nursing home, while mr perfect/ chief proudfoot laid out and tanned..
forgot to mention, the first woman i had kids with took off, left me a single dad with two kids.. second week of my PT i couldn't find a baby sitter and my mother was working.. so i showed up for PT with my 2 yr old son and 4 yr old daughter.
mr perfect wasn't there. i really liked this girl.. was kind of worried what it might be like when i showed up with the kids, but man she just gushed about how cute they were.. and the kids loved her right away..
im in the pool doing my old fart water aerobics routine.. and the tall thin girl who'd been my PT comes out in a bikini and climbs into the pool with me, playing with my kids.
what a smoking fucking body. jesus harold christ on rubber fucking crutches, those scrubs she wore everyday was hiding everything about her body.
i was in shock, i mean she was a pretty girl.. but i had zero clue that this girl id gotten to be so close to, such good friends with, was a god damn victoria secrets model hiding under her fucking scrubs
she noticed me staring, pretty sure my jaw had dropped.. she blushed again.
and for the next two months she was teaching my daughter to swim, taught my 2 yr old son to float on his back while i was bouncing around on my fucked up knee..
the house visits stopped.. i had advanced from water aerobics to using nautilus equipment. her and i would talk on the phone, shed meet me at the gym every other week or so to check my progress, assess joint stability and other cool PT stuff or whatever..
i was never anything but a friend to this girl. she had a man shed been with for years, i wasn't going to disrespect her or take any chances with being dismissed for being inappropriate..
nothing like aching for someone you'll never ever have is there lads..
my phone rang at midnight one night, i heard a whisper coming through,
" you awake?"
yea.. i am now
" do you ever think of me?"
all the time. i was thinking of you when the phone rang.
" I'm off tomorrow.. you want to bring the kids over to go swimming? ill look at your knee.."
sounds good
we stayed all day. when it was time for her bf to come home, i asked her to take my children with her to buy something good for us all for dinner..
when chief proudfoot showed up and i told him to pack an overnight bag. he complied
i was wearing a knee brace hopping around on one leg still, and weighed a whole 165lbs.. chief proud foot was a head taller and had 40 lbs on me easy, i think at some point i had pulled a box knife out of my pocket and explained how easy it would be for me to unzip him like a bag of guts..
charley b isn't much of a politician, but being direct has its merits too i suppose..
anyway, he vacated.
she came home and made spaghetti and meatballs for me and the kiddies. very Scandinavian, i approved.
the four of us watched lion king sprawled out on blankets on the floor in her living room..
i stole a wife
whenever shit gets complicated, boring, or ugly in my marriage..
i think about the girl i met, got to know.. and how it felt to finally put arms around her
I've fucked up here and there.. but the old gods know, i love mrs Bronson
so yea..
chief proudfoot and me ended up going head to head later on, thats another story
lets just say,
somewhere, there is an indian crying..
not because somebody threw a Mcdonalds bag out their car window..
when you could still kick people on the ground, small joint manipulations ( break holds by bending peoples thumbs)
anyway.. the cages back then were really just slapped the fuck together, chain link fence with galvanized post that had padding zip tied to them, mats might be canvas right over plywood , or god damn 2'' thick padding under weird indoor/ outdoor carpet
i was matched up with some guy that had wrestled in college, i just tee'd off on this guy and his defense was to put hit head down and swat his arms around. apparently he trained stand up for this fight by mimicking an orangutang fighting with a beehive
i wobbled his ass about a minute in, he was laying on the fence with his eyes rolling around in his head mouth breathing and i threw a hard right hand that started somewhere in texas and came through the florida panhandle on the way to his brains
when you throw a hard right hand from orthodox, think of a major league batter following through on his swing, hip rotation, that read driving foot pivots on the ground..
well my fucking foot had sunk into these squishy mushy fucking wrestling mats, and instead of my heel coming off the ground and pivoting - my foot was sucked into the mats and my god damn knee wrenched.. femur rotating on top of my tibia
i connected witht hat shot, and the ref jumped in and waved off the fight - tyrone was gone but i had torn my knee to shreds..
promoters insurance ws almost non existent, i had an intake where i was told i needed surgery.. a ligament from a fucking cadaver? no thanks
i went for physical therapy instead. wore an immobilizer until my right leg had atrophied nearly three inches, then was assigned a PT
my therapist told me id likely never run or box or participate in athletics at any kind of level i was used to without surgery. torn meniscus and no2 grade ACL tear.. i could forget coming back to fighting
i busted my ass in pt, the hardest part was NOT doing anything..
after 12 weeks, my visits were up.. i couldn't afford to pay out of pocket to continue therapy, but my PT told me she would see me , would come to my house or i could come to hers, once a week to continue therapy as long as i worked hard and was progressing
first week i went to her house, i met her boyfriend.. her high school sweet heart and fiancé. this guy was some ambercrombie and fitch model, had done commercials with old navy. mixed breed half white/ half native guy like 6'3 and 200 lbs.
zero charisma, zero fucking brains. i hated him immediately, in my head i nicknamed him " mr perfect"
my PT really was a good friend to me.. i really liked this girl. she was intelligent. classy..
i asked her - how in the fuck is someone so smart and driven with such a lame empty headed fuck? she blushed, visibly.. told me they'd met while modeling in high school , had been together 8 years
then i found out he was native american.. and so he went from "mr perfect" to " chief proud foot"
god how i hated him.
my PT had a swimming pool, had me climb into the pool and do lateral movement in the pool to strengthen the muscles around my knee.. here i was doing water aerobics like some old turd in a nursing home, while mr perfect/ chief proudfoot laid out and tanned..
forgot to mention, the first woman i had kids with took off, left me a single dad with two kids.. second week of my PT i couldn't find a baby sitter and my mother was working.. so i showed up for PT with my 2 yr old son and 4 yr old daughter.
mr perfect wasn't there. i really liked this girl.. was kind of worried what it might be like when i showed up with the kids, but man she just gushed about how cute they were.. and the kids loved her right away..
im in the pool doing my old fart water aerobics routine.. and the tall thin girl who'd been my PT comes out in a bikini and climbs into the pool with me, playing with my kids.
what a smoking fucking body. jesus harold christ on rubber fucking crutches, those scrubs she wore everyday was hiding everything about her body.
i was in shock, i mean she was a pretty girl.. but i had zero clue that this girl id gotten to be so close to, such good friends with, was a god damn victoria secrets model hiding under her fucking scrubs
she noticed me staring, pretty sure my jaw had dropped.. she blushed again.
and for the next two months she was teaching my daughter to swim, taught my 2 yr old son to float on his back while i was bouncing around on my fucked up knee..
the house visits stopped.. i had advanced from water aerobics to using nautilus equipment. her and i would talk on the phone, shed meet me at the gym every other week or so to check my progress, assess joint stability and other cool PT stuff or whatever..
i was never anything but a friend to this girl. she had a man shed been with for years, i wasn't going to disrespect her or take any chances with being dismissed for being inappropriate..
nothing like aching for someone you'll never ever have is there lads..
my phone rang at midnight one night, i heard a whisper coming through,
" you awake?"
yea.. i am now
" do you ever think of me?"
all the time. i was thinking of you when the phone rang.
" I'm off tomorrow.. you want to bring the kids over to go swimming? ill look at your knee.."
sounds good
we stayed all day. when it was time for her bf to come home, i asked her to take my children with her to buy something good for us all for dinner..
when chief proudfoot showed up and i told him to pack an overnight bag. he complied
i was wearing a knee brace hopping around on one leg still, and weighed a whole 165lbs.. chief proud foot was a head taller and had 40 lbs on me easy, i think at some point i had pulled a box knife out of my pocket and explained how easy it would be for me to unzip him like a bag of guts..
charley b isn't much of a politician, but being direct has its merits too i suppose..
anyway, he vacated.
she came home and made spaghetti and meatballs for me and the kiddies. very Scandinavian, i approved.
the four of us watched lion king sprawled out on blankets on the floor in her living room..
i stole a wife
whenever shit gets complicated, boring, or ugly in my marriage..
i think about the girl i met, got to know.. and how it felt to finally put arms around her
I've fucked up here and there.. but the old gods know, i love mrs Bronson
so yea..
chief proudfoot and me ended up going head to head later on, thats another story
lets just say,
somewhere, there is an indian crying..
not because somebody threw a Mcdonalds bag out their car window..