There are still those times when my back pain will sneak up on me and I’ll suddenly realize how much pain I’m actually in. As luck would have it this time around the realization hits me at Club Lido in Revere amidst a sea of seething mixed martial arts fans eager for the start of T.K. O’Riley’s Fight Night. This isn’t boxing, this is No Holds Barred Ultimate Fighting. Of all the places to feel brittle and vulnerable, this is not a top choice. In my current physical state I could easily be toppled by two girls scouts who felt I did not buy the minimum acceptable amount of thin mints. I polish off my vodka tonic and go to the bar for a second one thinking that it may at least soften the ground when I take my eventual fall.
I knew what an event like this would potentially be like though. Hell that was part of the appeal, right? Midway through the first fight the guy to my right starts crowding me, our shoulders often touching for extended periods of time seasoned with an occasional bump. Expecting something like this might happen I’ve come prepared; intentionally wearing my glasses to the event. You know what they say: “You can’t hit a guy with glasses.” Right? Well, that’s what they say. Something tells me this guy doesn’t care what “they” have to say. He probably had a dinner with no vegetables, went swimming immediately afterwards, picked up a tiny stone from the bottom of the pool and threw it at the glass house next door, and then drove over to the fights without using his blinkers.
As tempting as it is to stand my ground, especially since I was there an hour before he was, I’m smart enough to know my audience and I give him as much room as he wants. The result is me shifting inch by inch until 15 minutes later he has effectively moved me 2-3 feet to the left as he roams his new domain proudly. But my leniency pays off as it causes him to wander away uninterested like a lion who lets the injured gazelle go free simply because he’s not as hungry as he originally thought he was.
The fights are fast, almost all of them ending in the first round. Someone wins by triangle hold. Someone wins by knockout. Someone wins by rear naked choke hold. I don’t think anything with the words rear or naked should be anywhere near this sport but I keep that thought to myself. Trina’s husband wins in impressive fashion and she releases a big sigh of relief that it’s over. We high-five. One fighter comes out to “It’s Raining Men” which I think is just great. I decide that my entrance song would be “Why Can’t We Be Friends.”
After the main event ends the crowd spills out into the club parking lot. It’s literally minutes before ambulances and cops arrive in response to all the post-fight fights. It’s like the Jets and the Sharks and the Cobra Kai are all fighting each other at the same time. Ma-ri-aaaa, I just met a girl named Ma-ri-aaaaa… and Johnny swept her leg.
Meanwhile I’m safe inside in the fighters’ back room where Trina’s husband packs up his stuff and collects his prize money. I meet a few of the other fighters from his school and to my embarrassment each conversation is the same. Where do you live? “I wrestled in high school.” So Andy, you work with Trina? “You know I wrestled in high school.”
I notice they have a small table set up with bottled water and snacks. I start towards it…. I wonder if they have any thin mints.