PIX BY MICHAEL KLINKHAMER
Yellow wall merges with dirty white ceiling as my 60 kilos get swung over the shoulder of a beast of a man. This is the same guy I shook the hand of a couple of minutes ago, and while travelling mid-air I find myself not fully grasping what has just happened. The impact as my back hits the floor makes my eyes shut tight and when I open them again my newfound ‘friend’ is bent over me with a closed fist that promptly slams into my face.
I blink and almost fail to register the rapid blur of the kick to my head that follows. I stay down; sweat running down the side of my face, hair standing straight up. I can feel blood pumping through my veins like a double bass drum. I gather some strength to stand up, get into position and then launch myself towards my opponent with the sole purpose of strangling him with my bare hands. I don’t even remember his name.
And I used to be such a nice guy.
Fighting: I don’t care what colour you are, or what language you speak, or what country you live in, we’re all human beings and fighting’s in our DNA. We get it and we like it.” – Ultimate Fighting Championship President Dana White
We live in an age when newspapers are filled with terror, media consistently reporting freakish war crimes. Immersed in pop culture crammed with glorified violence, it is fair to ask: ‘What’s so appealing about fighting?’
The sport of mixed martial arts (MMA) is one of the fastest growing in the world and, like pimples before a date, gyms offering martial arts training are popping up everywhere.
Usually run by a highly skilled, professional trainer, this is where the real magic happens; far from the limelight, multimillion-dollar contracts and live-streamed events.
Ultimately, martial art means honestly expressing yourself.” – Bruce Lee
Rooted in the very cradle of martial arts, Cambodia is an opportunity to seize a piece of the action for yourself. There are three MMA gyms in Phnom Penh, in each of which you’ll find a motley crew of men and women – fat and skinny, tall and short – all rigorously grinding the different techniques. From Cambodia’s Pradal Serey to the Israeli military’s Krav Maga, classic boxing to Brazilian Ju-Jitsu, the Advisor steps into the ring – at great personal risk – to report on the finest fight clubs in the city.
WHY TO FIGHT:
To the untrained eye, cage fighting might seem an act of barbarism that only attracts the hyper-violent and ill of mind. The fact, however, is that MMA fighters are some of the most disciplined, athletic and well-conditioned professionals in the world of sports. But then what else would you expect? The consequence of coming second in a fight isn’t a silver medal. It’s a knee to the face.
It’s not too hard for me to stay motivated when I’m in a sport where everyone’s trying to knock me out.”
– Nick Diaz, professional fighter
MMA training is also an excellent cardio workout that demands a holistic view of your body’s functionality. You might think the buff guys at the gym are also good fighters – and they might be, but big muscles come with a price.
The heavier the weight you carry, the more energy you use; energy you might need when your opponent blocks your punches, throws you on the ground and wrestles you into an arm lock.
Training in MMA strips you of the non-essentials and places you firmly on the path of discipline. Like any sports, you’ll have a hard time reaching your potential if you don’t eat, sleep and train right. But embrace the life of martial arts and you begin building self-esteem that comes from deep within, rooted in the knowledge of your new skills and the hours of honing you’ve invested.
WHERE TO FIGHT:
Paddy’s Gym, #63 Street 294:
Boxing and Kun Khmer/Pradal Serey
4pm – 9pm Monday – Friday
9am – noon Saturday
As the sun sinks behind the huge buildings to the East, I try to dodge oncoming traffic that doesn’t seem to understand I’m late for my Kun Khmer class at Paddy’s. When I arrive, there’s a handful of men sitting on the floor, watching a fighter brutalise one of the punch bags with vicious kicks. The swinging bag looks handmade, free from the familiar brands that usually flood MMA gyms, and as I look around it seems obvious: Paddy’s Fight Club is more about the fighting than anything else.
Started by former bare-knuckle fighter Paddy Carson, it’s one of two locations in Cambodia where fighters local and foreign can train in either boxing or the traditional Pradal Serey, also known as Kun Khmer. Looking forward to having a chat with Paddy himself, I’m a bit disappointed when the cashier tells me he’s out of town, but when the clock closes in on 6pm, the garage-turned-fight-club begins to fill. Initial shadowboxing reveals a mixture of experience levels as round kicks and punches are thrown. The trainers then strap on punch pads and demonstrate the essential four techniques of Pradal Serey: the kick, the punch, the knee and the elbow.
It doesn’t take long to intellectualise the correlation between the lean bodies of the Kun Khmer fighters and the three-minute rounds during which you throw various combinations of lefts and rights, hooks and jabs. The training is exhausting and the friction between floor and foot is taking its toll. Until now, my feet have been comfortably strolling along Riverside with the occasional massage. Now they get put to the test as trainer Panna tells me to stand on my toes and swing my hip around while throwing a kick.
A loud noise. The Phnom Penh sky splits asunder and dumps its watery contents on the metal roof. As people rush to save their belongings from the rain seeping through small openings in the ceiling, I take a rest and curse the fact I didn’t bring tape to wrap the soles of my feet. I buy a big bottle of water and, when the trainer says it’s time for the next round, I shake my head and point to the dirty red blister on my foot.
The last round I spend watching a Russian fighter’s gnarly uppercut before re-joining the group for the final session: sit ups, crunches and pull ups. Afterwards, still willing the rain to stop, I hop on my bike, the sun long gone, and make my way through traffic that doesn’t seem to understand that priority number one is getting me home to rest my pulverised limbs.
A Fighter’s Gym, #27c Street 135
MMA, Kun Khmer, Bokator, grappling
7am to 7pm Monday – Friday
9am to 10:30am Saturday & Sunday
Arriving at A Fighter’s Gym, I immediately recognise the head trainer and owner, Chan Reach, from the recent OneFC Grand Prix tournament at Koh Pich Theatre. Just a couple of kids and his French Bokator trainer accomany him. I sit on the mat, leaning against a black fence just like the ones in cage fighting, while I wait for the MMA class to start. I hope this hour of training will show me some of the takedowns and headlocks I witnessed during the most recent UFC event in Stockholm, Sweden.
When the clock hits six, everyone grabs a skipping rope and starts warming up. The ropes are made of heavy plastic and great for improving coordination, plus they hurt like hell if you don’t jump high enough (always a good motivator). I’m starting to embrace the grind and, with my feet fully healed after the Paddy’s incident, keen to get rowdy with someone from the class (all young guys about the same height and weight as me).
We pair up and start practicing a looping overhand right to the guard of our sparring partner, stopping just before impact to avoid damaging our hands. That overhand is then combined with a wrestling technique: the body lock. Chan Reach explains how a thrown punch can also be used to trick an opponent into exposing himself to other attacks. The next step, he says, is to take your opponent to the ground. Still gripping the waist of his skinny sparring partner, whose only real job is to take a beating, Chan Reach sweeps the man’s legs from under him, sending him tumbling backwards with the help of his bodyweight and a push to the head. As the man slams into the ground, the trainer springs into position and secures side control: a dominant ground position that allows him to land elbows or knees or move in for an arm lock.
Asked about the rising popularity of MMA, Chan Reach, whose gym is favoured among the country’s established and emerging professional fighters, points to the intensely competitive nature of the sport and cites the pride of representing both country and gym.
Riding home, I start to connect the dots. There are so many different variables, both physical and mental, that go into creating a fighter. If you compete, those variables come together in just a few glorious minutes of victory or defeat. Hundreds, maybe thousands of hours, peaking the moment you enter the ring. Even if your opponent is a sworn enemy, you still have to respect the hours of discipline and training they’ve endured. But I’m about to find out that fight training isn’t something that prepares you solely for the ring; it also prepares you for potentially dangerous situations in life.
K1 Fitness & Fight Factory, #131 Street 199
MMA, Krav Maga
7am – 9pm Monday – Sunday
Arriving early to check things out before getting kicked, I’m immediately greeted with steady handshakes from trainers and trainees alike. A few expats are doing pad work on a well-lit floor covered with yellow mats. In the background, old-school rapper DMX asks loudly through the speakers “Where the hood at?”, but no-one answers. Flyers from UFC events hang on the walls alongside photos of one of the hand-shakers, K1 Fitness & Fight Factory Director Francois Xavier Leal de la Torre. Xavier, known as ‘FX’, met the gym’s boss, David Minetti, when he was a kid: FX’s father and Minetti share a background in the French Foreign Legion.
The schedule includes kids’ boxing, cardio conditioning and Krav Maga, a system of self-defence known for its effectiveness/brutality and the class I’ve signed up for. Developed to train the Israeli military for realistic fighting situations, Krav Maga encourages practitioners to avoid confrontation, but, as FX says: “Sometimes you don’t have that option, then what do you do?” He proceeds to answer his own question, demonstrating a slew of defensive-, offensive- and counter-attacks, and setting the standard before we – with extreme caution – practice eye gouging, throat strikes and kicks to the groin.
Where there’s an almost artistic element to the traditions of Kun Khmer, wrestling and Ju-Jitsu, Krav Maga focuses solely on survival. I’m thrown to the ground repeatedly by the smallest manipulation of my joints and finished off with kicks and punches to the head. Efficient and simple, this system. The techniques being taught are (mostly) forbidden in professional settings and I wouldn’t dream of kicking a sparring partner in the crown jewels, but someone threatening my family? That’s a different story.
We continue practicing real-life scenarios, including multiple attackers and how to get out of various locks, as the clock closes in on an MMA class. With energy still to spare, I goof around with FX and experience what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a Krav Maga fighter. A leg kick lands flat on my thigh and I collapse in pain, electing to take a time-out and watch from a safe distance as the next class warms up by crawling the length of the room – which looks both funny and gruelling. Breathing in gasps, I stand up and stagger towards my bike for the ride home.
As the wind starts to chill my body, I become aware of sharp pains in my neck, thigh and – strangely – my right ear. I reflect on the physical challenges of the past week and how well I’ve been sleeping (traditionally, I’m an insomniac). Confident despite having been kicked around and thrown to the ground with my limbs yanked in unnatural directions, I’ve gained valuable knowledge of my inner workings, in just a few days, through brutal trial-and-error.
The soundtrack from Into The Wild seeps into my headphones and the soothing voice of Eddie Vedder accompanies the somewhat wobbly ride home. I get stuck thinking about a quote from the movie that I’m convinced would fit this article, if only I could remember what it was. Just before I fall asleep, I look it up and experience feel a double win, because a) it sums up my Cambodian fight club experiences, and b) it means my memory is still functioning, which hopefully means no brain damage. Sweet!
It is important in life not to be strong, but to feel strong, to measure yourself at least once.” – Into The Wild