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Balls Deep - Mixed Martial Arts Episode 7 of 9 |
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MMA News Written by MMARR
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Wednesday, 28 November 2007 |
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Brought to you by the internet TV channel
VBS.tv ( www.vbs.tv )
After a month of training, Matt Ruskin and Baby Balls head down to Atlanta for the fight. The two have starved themselves almost to the point of actual starvation to make Matt’s weight class, but once they’ve been weighed they’ve got a full 24 hours to put all the lost pounds back on. What follows is a junk-food and burger binge the likes of which haven’t been seen since Belushi speedballed his way to glutton’s heaven.
BABY BALLS ON THE MENTAL RIGORS OF LOSING WEIGHT FOR A FIGHT
Not to sound like too much of a Garfield mug, but do you have any idea how rough dieting is? It’s murder. Or at least it’s murder when you’re also doing more exercise over the course of each day than you’ve done in the entire previous year. I’m right at the cutoff for flyweight, which is the lowest weight class in MMA, but I set a personal goal of 110 pounds to keep me roughly on track with Matt’s cut. I might as well have set it at Nope because that’s exactly how close I made it.
The first week of the cut wasn’t bad—all I was really doing was not stuffing my face at every meal. Walking around constantly half-full kind of felt like an accomplishment, like coming home all sweat-caked from the foundry. By the middle of week two the novelty of “counting carbs” and whatever had worn off and I kept accidentally eating things like bagels and full bowls of pasta. From the beginning of the fourth week up until downing that bottle of Pedialyte I was in a state of more or less permanent anger. This mixed with all the testosterone eking out of my long dormant muscles to severely cloud my judgment in terms of fights I should and should not pick. On the flight down to Georgia we had one of those “funny” stewards who try to riff with everybody in the cabin the whole trip—had I been just one seat over from the window, I would probably have spent the night in one of those airport holding tanks. Matt kept trying to get me to sign up for a match of my own just to see how I’d do, and at this point in the proceeding I started taking the idea really seriously, like maybe I’d actually surprise myself against some guy 20 pounds my senior. Luckily, the second that warm orange syrup hit my mouth, my mind was swept clean of all these delusions.
I guess this all says more about me being a p___y than what an ordeal cutting weight is, but Matt still deserves credit for somehow going through this every few months without turning into a monster. Same goes for JAPs.
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