Come to my fight, he said...It will be fun, he said

My brother has taken up MMA fighting over then last year and a half or so and we bought tickets and went to his first fight.  My mom refused to go, it's not natural to watch your child beat someone up/get beaten up, she said.  She refused to go.  Fine.  We were all a little nervous but I was sure I would be fine and I wanted to be there to support my brother.  We walked into the bar (yeah, it's at a bar) and my brother was standing there in his regular clothes...his opponent hadn't shown up for weigh-in and was a no-show.  The guy had 30 minutes to show up before they called it a forfeit.  He never showed.  We got a rain check for the next fight.  Whew.

Next fight we get there and it's a new opponent and everything is good to go.  Except for some reason the show started almost an hour and a half late.  My dad came straight from work and he still wasn't scheduled to fight for another hour (it was already 9:30pm) and dad had one beer, got mad that they charged him $7 for a beer and decided to leave.  We stayed.  The fight starts and I went from zero to nervous wreck in 4.2 seconds.  Nervous wreck is the understatement of the year.  I was an absolute insane crying wildebeest.  I cried and screamed and caused a scene for the entire 9 minutes.  It was the longest 9 minutes of my life.  It was the first fight for both of them and they were both pretty timid.  There was a lot of ducking and weaving the first round; the second round Jason got knocked down a few times but kept the other guy away.  The third round was more timid-ness but towards the end the other guy accidentally kicked Jason in the nuts and then he got mad.  Neither of them got very many punches in and the judges had to decide on the winner and the other guy won by ONE point.  Booooooo.  They were the only fight of the night that didn't end in a KO, which I am grateful for; it was a nail-biter to say the least.  No amount of beers I chugged or shots I downed to calm my nerves were enough to keep me sane.  I agree with Mom; it's not natural.  I'll leave it to his friends to be his cheering squad from now on.

Here's Jason's mean-face:

 

 

Here's where I have the first of a few heart attacks:

 

 

This picture is kinda neat.  But not THAT neat:

 

  

Here's where the other guy won...BOOOO!  I'm pretty sure I screamed, "you stupid tattoo'd freak!!!" more than once.

 

 

And here's where they are supposed to hug it out and Jason's thinking, "Get off me mutherfucker"

 

 

 

You win some, you lose some.  He did GREAT and we've watched the Youtube video many times and have determined that he has the skill, he just needs to be more confident and the next fight will be a piece of cake.

 

Except that next fight is next Friday and his opponent is supposedly a brawler and instead of trying to convince Mom to go, he has actually advised her not to.  Guess what?  I will NOT be there either.  It's up to Dad to go and report back to us.

 

Good luck, young grasshopper.