We were all children once, in our fathers basement, in front of the big screen TV...
Our bottle, propped up on the coffee table, next to the roach clip with the feather attached. The odor was familiar but we were still too young to comprehend that Mary Jane wasn't actually a female. Enter the Dragon is on and as Bruce sounds the alarm in Han's underground lair, our mouths salivate for the upcoming ass whooping. There was a carnal flame buried deep within our chest. We had no clue that it would stay, awaiting that one day that it could be released upon the world. As we got a little older, we sat on moms lap, watching saturday morning kung fu cinema, grabbing the empty paper towel roll and jumping through the air, like a blind swordsman. In our teens we dreamed of Ha-Do-Kens, while we pumped quarters into the machine. We grew our hair out to match Ken or Ryu, then bought a Raiden rice cap. In 96 dad sold us on a pay per view event that he dubbed "a real life kumite". We tried hard to Van Damme split between 2 chairs as we awaited this one night tourney. And then... confused as to what just happened... a brazilian, in a gi, walks away with his hand held high. We thought it might be a fluke. Where was the asian? Where was the tiger claw? Then he did it again. Some of us despised this man and became anti-Gracie. Learning what we could from the Shamrock's and Sakuraba, we sought out to be our own heroes. And like most before, we failed. Would there ever be an answer? We payed closer attention to this world of jiu jitsu, hoping an anti-hero would emerge. In 2003, our prayers were answered. Was it a coincidence that our anti-hero would evolve into... us? The rock star hair and "Mary" make us feel like we are home again... Back in the basement. Breathe now, my friends. We are all heroes now... Or at least anti-heroes. And proud of it.
Our bottle, propped up on the coffee table, next to the roach clip with the feather attached. The odor was familiar but we were still too young to comprehend that Mary Jane wasn't actually a female. Enter the Dragon is on and as Bruce sounds the alarm in Han's underground lair, our mouths salivate for the upcoming ass whooping. There was a carnal flame buried deep within our chest. We had no clue that it would stay, awaiting that one day that it could be released upon the world. As we got a little older, we sat on moms lap, watching saturday morning kung fu cinema, grabbing the empty paper towel roll and jumping through the air, like a blind swordsman. In our teens we dreamed of Ha-Do-Kens, while we pumped quarters into the machine. We grew our hair out to match Ken or Ryu, then bought a Raiden rice cap. In 96 dad sold us on a pay per view event that he dubbed "a real life kumite". We tried hard to Van Damme split between 2 chairs as we awaited this one night tourney. And then... confused as to what just happened... a brazilian, in a gi, walks away with his hand held high. We thought it might be a fluke. Where was the asian? Where was the tiger claw? Then he did it again. Some of us despised this man and became anti-Gracie. Learning what we could from the Shamrock's and Sakuraba, we sought out to be our own heroes. And like most before, we failed. Would there ever be an answer? We payed closer attention to this world of jiu jitsu, hoping an anti-hero would emerge. In 2003, our prayers were answered. Was it a coincidence that our anti-hero would evolve into... us? The rock star hair and "Mary" make us feel like we are home again... Back in the basement. Breathe now, my friends. We are all heroes now... Or at least anti-heroes. And proud of it.