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  1. #101

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    Quote Originally Posted by Chris Herzog View Post
    I'm sure that sounded way funnier in your head before typing it out, it wasn't.
    I spit my drink out.

    You owe me a keyboard =(

  2. #102

    Array

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    10th Planet JJ Chicago
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    LaGrange Park, IL
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    I've had a couple fun ass-kickings:

    - I was doing leg kicking drills in a kickboxing class with a guy who'd just come back from Muay Thai training in Thailand about a month before. We were going "light", and still after about 15 minutes my leg just gave out and I fell over. The following Monday in a massage class I was taking I had bruises along both thighs from my hip to my knee bad enough that my massage instructor pulled me aside and asked "if everything was OK at home".

    - I went to a CSW training camp once where a 5x Savate kickboxing champion was one of the instructors. When we got to the point where we were doing rounds of sparring, I wound up without a partner for one round. He didn't like that I was alone, so he put on his gloves and said we could spar each other. At one point he managed to hit me in the face about 6 times before I realized I should side step. When it was over, he said I did "good", and I was left wondering what would've happened if I did bad. My only consolation was I stayed on my feet for the whole 5 minute ass whooping.

    - Practicing take downs one time with an old grappling training partner, who outweighed me by a good 50 pounds, he basically DDT'd me. I got tingly throughout my whole body for a second, and nearly KO'd. We called it a day after that.

    Good times.

  3. #103

    Array

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    10th Planet HQ, Gracie Academy HQ
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    LA via Chicago
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    There's also the time I got necktied by Boogie three times in about 2 minutes. That was a cathartic experience to say the least. I just sat back for a good minute after and was like "hmmm....ok.....let's reevaluate the situation here..."

  4. #104

    Array

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    Since I'm too lazy to write about the first time I sparred with Josh Barnett (i.e., I'm too psychologically traumatized by the events ever to feel comfortable revisiting them), I'll just repost this story I told awhile back about Matt Horwich:


    Not so very long ago, I stepped onto Eddie Bravo's mats at Legends MMA as a wee white belt, happy as a clam to be engaged in an activity both physically and mentally stimulating. I had wrestled, and Eddie didn't have any policies about new people live rolling back then, so I started sparring immediately from my very first class (generally inadvisable, btw). Combining the techniques we'd covered with my wrestling skills into some hideous bastard pidgin grappling language, I attempted some moves on my training partners; mostly they failed, but occasionally succeeded. After a few rolls, I had tapped less than a handful of times and this tiny idiot voice in my head told me, "Hey, you must be a natural at this jiujitsu stuff! Experienced people were barely able to do much to you! And you were able to do things!" For about 6 weeks or so, that was how it went. I'd try a slow, sloppy flyover pass or use a rubber guard looser than Jenna Jameson, and I might sweep a blue or purple belt! Awesome!

    Then one day Matt Horwich came in and asked me to roll; he was a blue belt and had been knocking people out in the IFL. We slapped hands and fist bumped and then I grabbed a single leg; he grabbed a guillotine and I tapped out. This sequence of events took about 1 second, literally less time than it takes to read the sentence describing them. "Nice!" I thought, "I'll have to watch out for that tricky guillotine." I pulled guard and he immediately passed and guillotined me again. And then again. And then again. And then he armbarred me. And then he kimura'ed me. And on and on. It was effortless, fluid, graceful as ballet, spiritual even. I felt like a 3-year-old getting his clothes put on by his parents. I felt like a cod fillet being flopped around in breading and then deep fried. My own pitiful floundering served solely to provide some colour and flavour to the methods of my destruction. We rolled for probably 5 minutes, and he tapped me at least 15 times; 8 of these were guillotines (I specifically remember this number). Awestruck, I profusely thanked this grappling demigod for deigning to descend from the clouds and allowing me the honor of tapping his arm as he choked me.

    I then sat out the rest of the night and watched him intently in his next rolls against my usual training partners; I hoped to gain some understanding of the game. He did alright. He got a few subs, but was subbed more. Against the purple belts, he was bested convincingly. This thoroughly confused me. How could he destroy me effortlessly and then be beaten by people I was competitive with?

    So that's when I realized that everyone had been taking it easy on me. It was like waking up from the Matrix; everything I had known about jiujitsu had been a lie. I sat there, stunned, on a disused punching bag in a sweaty gym, mentally replaying my matches of the past 6 weeks. Virtually every pass and sweep had been an allowance by my training partners. Looking at the details, I realized that it was obvious that the poor mechanics of my "known" techniques simply couldn't be effective. Up until that point, I had been complacently learning a silly pretend grappling.

    Having my ass kicked by Matt Horwich (thanks) marked the beginning of my first leap forward in the sport, and I can mark many other such notable times. Ricco Rodriguez used to show up and tap me (thanks) with just a claustrophobia-inducing control. Brent Littell would literally chuckle out loud (thanks) as he shrugged off my pitiful D'arce and rear-naked choke attempts. Einstein, 100 lbs smaller than me, would dance past my "guard" and freedom rock on my neck so bad that my Adam's apple would hurt for a week. And I still have nightmares about the first time Josh Barnett suplexed me (thanks?). By now probably hundreds of people have whipped my ass, providing me mental footage to review and improve upon.

  5. #105
    Tony "The Goods" Garcia's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Chris Herzog View Post
    I'm sure that sounded way funnier in your head before typing it out, it wasn't.
    I was truly hoping for a killer Zog meme out of it. Sadly none.

  6. #106
    Chris Herzog's Avatar
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    10th Planet Rochester
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    Quote Originally Posted by Tony "The Goods" Garcia View Post
    I was truly hoping for a killer Zog meme out of it. Sadly none.
    It wasn't meme worthy.
    Check out my instructional website:www.zogipedia.com



    Head Coach 10th Planet Jiu Jitsu Rochester www.10thplanetjiujitsurochester.com

  7. #107
    Brian Debes's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Amir Allam View Post
    Since I'm too lazy to write about the first time I sparred with Josh Barnett (i.e., I'm too psychologically traumatized by the events ever to feel comfortable revisiting them), I'll just repost this story I told awhile back about Matt Horwich:


    Not so very long ago, I stepped onto Eddie Bravo's mats at Legends MMA as a wee white belt, happy as a clam to be engaged in an activity both physically and mentally stimulating. I had wrestled, and Eddie didn't have any policies about new people live rolling back then, so I started sparring immediately from my very first class (generally inadvisable, btw). Combining the techniques we'd covered with my wrestling skills into some hideous bastard pidgin grappling language, I attempted some moves on my training partners; mostly they failed, but occasionally succeeded. After a few rolls, I had tapped less than a handful of times and this tiny idiot voice in my head told me, "Hey, you must be a natural at this jiujitsu stuff! Experienced people were barely able to do much to you! And you were able to do things!" For about 6 weeks or so, that was how it went. I'd try a slow, sloppy flyover pass or use a rubber guard looser than Jenna Jameson, and I might sweep a blue or purple belt! Awesome!

    Then one day Matt Horwich came in and asked me to roll; he was a blue belt and had been knocking people out in the IFL. We slapped hands and fist bumped and then I grabbed a single leg; he grabbed a guillotine and I tapped out. This sequence of events took about 1 second, literally less time than it takes to read the sentence describing them. "Nice!" I thought, "I'll have to watch out for that tricky guillotine." I pulled guard and he immediately passed and guillotined me again. And then again. And then again. And then he armbarred me. And then he kimura'ed me. And on and on. It was effortless, fluid, graceful as ballet, spiritual even. I felt like a 3-year-old getting his clothes put on by his parents. I felt like a cod fillet being flopped around in breading and then deep fried. My own pitiful floundering served solely to provide some colour and flavour to the methods of my destruction. We rolled for probably 5 minutes, and he tapped me at least 15 times; 8 of these were guillotines (I specifically remember this number). Awestruck, I profusely thanked this grappling demigod for deigning to descend from the clouds and allowing me the honor of tapping his arm as he choked me.

    I then sat out the rest of the night and watched him intently in his next rolls against my usual training partners; I hoped to gain some understanding of the game. He did alright. He got a few subs, but was subbed more. Against the purple belts, he was bested convincingly. This thoroughly confused me. How could he destroy me effortlessly and then be beaten by people I was competitive with?

    So that's when I realized that everyone had been taking it easy on me. It was like waking up from the Matrix; everything I had known about jiujitsu had been a lie. I sat there, stunned, on a disused punching bag in a sweaty gym, mentally replaying my matches of the past 6 weeks. Virtually every pass and sweep had been an allowance by my training partners. Looking at the details, I realized that it was obvious that the poor mechanics of my "known" techniques simply couldn't be effective. Up until that point, I had been complacently learning a silly pretend grappling.

    Having my ass kicked by Matt Horwich (thanks) marked the beginning of my first leap forward in the sport, and I can mark many other such notable times. Ricco Rodriguez used to show up and tap me (thanks) with just a claustrophobia-inducing control. Brent Littell would literally chuckle out loud (thanks) as he shrugged off my pitiful D'arce and rear-naked choke attempts. Einstein, 100 lbs smaller than me, would dance past my "guard" and freedom rock on my neck so bad that my Adam's apple would hurt for a week. And I still have nightmares about the first time Josh Barnett suplexed me (thanks?). By now probably hundreds of people have whipped my ass, providing me mental footage to review and improve upon.
    This is great as is most of your stuff Amir

    This happens ALLOT But... people took it THAT easy on YOU? I would think the whole super giant athlete thing would sober people up a little, but no?

  8. #108

    Array

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    Carlson Gracie Miami/10P Miami/Ft. Laud Hotbox remnant
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    Miami
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    Quote Originally Posted by Amir Allam View Post
    Then one day Matt Horwich came in and asked me to roll; he was a blue belt and had been knocking people out in the IFL. We slapped hands and fist bumped and then I grabbed a single leg; he grabbed a guillotine and I tapped out. This sequence of events took about 1 second, literally less time than it takes to read the sentence describing them. "Nice!" I thought, "I'll have to watch out for that tricky guillotine." I pulled guard and he immediately passed and guillotined me again. And then again. And then again. And then he armbarred me. And then he kimura'ed me. And on and on. It was effortless, fluid, graceful as ballet, spiritual even. I felt like a 3-year-old getting his clothes put on by his parents. I felt like a cod fillet being flopped around in breading and then deep fried. My own pitiful floundering served solely to provide some colour and flavour to the methods of my destruction. We rolled for probably 5 minutes, and he tapped me at least 15 times; 8 of these were guillotines (I specifically remember this number). Awestruck, I profusely thanked this grappling demigod for deigning to descend from the clouds and allowing me the honor of tapping his arm as he choked me.

    I then sat out the rest of the night and watched him intently in his next rolls against my usual training partners; I hoped to gain some understanding of the game. He did alright. He got a few subs, but was subbed more. Against the purple belts, he was bested convincingly. This thoroughly confused me. How could he destroy me effortlessly and then be beaten by people I was competitive with?

    So that's when I realized that everyone had been taking it easy on me. It was like waking up from the Matrix; everything I had known about jiujitsu had been a lie. I sat there, stunned, on a disused punching bag in a sweaty gym, mentally replaying my matches of the past 6 weeks. Virtually every pass and sweep had been an allowance by my training partners. Looking at the details, I realized that it was obvious that the poor mechanics of my "known" techniques simply couldn't be effective. Up until that point, I had been complacently learning a silly pretend grappling.
    Thanks for sharing Amir. And that might be the most poetic "My Worst Ass Whooping Received" story ever.

  9. #109
    Josh Passini's Avatar
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    Every time I roll with one of our Black Belts is the worst ass beating I have received. All are savages no matter who big or small! I love every minutes of it.
    www.10thplanetchicago.com
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    The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday - Jeff Mirabella

  10. #110

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    10th planet Barranquilla
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    Barranquilla/ Colombia
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    freakzoid kicked my ass pretty crazy

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