So, I had my very first tournament today, in grappling. I totally did not win anything, because I am a silly thing, but I got spirit, yes I do. Whoo! I fought twice, and got choked once. Didn’t get submitted in the first fight, and the lady I was fighting was way more advanced than me, so I’m pretty excited about that. I had a pretty clear goal going in: Get any points. And I did, in fact, get any points (in fact, I got 2). That’s actually not good or anything, but I am pretty happy nonetheless. Because I attained a goal. A really low goal. Yay me!
I was actually really nervous right before the fight. It was weirdly like exam anxiety. I was on YouTube in the morning, looking up submissions, like cramming for a test. “Fuck, fuck, is the Americana pulled upwards or downwards? Fuck!”
I will put up pictures of me getting my ass kicked (but not actually kicked because we don’t do kicking in grappling) as soon as I get them off other people’s cameras. That’s another things about grappling! I kickbox four times a week, and only grapple once! It’s really hard to compete in my less-dominant mindframe. Also, while waiting to fight, Michael was showing me pressure points, which only added to the confusion. Life is difficult with competing martial arts.
Oh yeah, I made a joke about how I abandoned my baby with my submachine gun because they both got too heavy, I should really go back and check on how they both are. Just to illustrate how every joke I make seems to go back to my fictitious abandoned baby. It lives at the mall, raised by the Orange Julius people, and now it has a submachine gun and is out for revenge. A few more jokes like this, and I’ll have a new Tale Of.