Author: Anton Tabuena

In part two of this series, Bloody Elbow’s Managing Editor, Anton Tabuena faces off against his Thai opponent.

This is a follow up to From Writing to Fighting: Thailand, Part 1

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Music is blasting, and I hear some cheers as I make my walk through the crowd.

With my team around me, I kneel and bow down as I reach the steps of the famed Bangla Stadium ring. I’ve always wanted to fight Muay Thai in Thailand, and I’m taking a moment to really soak this all in.

I head up the stairs, and my coach, Topnoi, is already holding down the ropes for me.

I touch the top rope with both arms out wide, then bow into a prayer pose. I slide my gloves back out, then back into a prayer pose again. I do this three times—as Thai tradition typically dictates—before jumping over the top rope and finally entering the ring.

I take the center, look at the judges and officials, and slowly bow towards each of the four sides of the ring.

As my brother removes my kimono, I hear the ring announcer’s distinct voice.

In the red corner, from Bangtao Muay Thai and MMA, Anton!

A small group of musicians start playing traditional Muay Thai music from the bleachers, signaling the start of our Wai Kru.

My opponent and I both slowly circle the ropes as we seal the edges of the ring. I take my time, bowing and tapping on each corner post before putting my fist up towards the crowd.

I walk closer to the middle of the ring, ever so slowly circling the area three times, while shaking my arms and trying to loosen up. I kneel at the very center. I’ve lost sight of my opponent, but if we’re both going to do this now, I want to take the best spot.

Random gamesmanship, I guess.

Left hand down. Right hand down. Bow. Right hand up. Left hand up. Lean back up.

Two more times.

I want to make sure I give respect to Thailand’s traditions, so I’ve practiced this all a few days ago.

Left knee up. Lunge forward. Bounce the back leg. Lunge back down.

One more time on the other side.

I slowly stand, lifting and turning my right knee outwards—the same motion as checking a kick, but a lot slower and more deliberate. I do the same on my left leg. I repeat this with each step going closer towards my corner as the ritual nears its end.

I didn’t get to warm up, but at least I’m getting a decent stretch.

I look over to the blue corner. I’ve been so focused on doing my own thing, but it seems like my opponent ended his Wai Kru a lot earlier. He’s been waiting on me again.

Unintentional gamesmanship, I guess.

The referee calls us both to the center to give final instructions.

We’re face to face, up close for the first time. I calmly look into his eyes. I don’t care at all about any intimidation tactics, but I’m trying to get a read on his demeanor and use this opportunity to properly size him up.

My brother was right. We really are roughly the same height, and he seems to have a wider frame. This will probably be my first fight without a reach advantage, but it doesn’t really matter now.

I just have to be better, period.

My opponent offers to touch gloves. I oblige.

We walk back to our corners one last time.

“Hands together and close your eyes,” Kru Beer gives a final prayer, then removes the Monkol on my head.

He gives me a sip of water, my mouthpiece, and some final advice.

“Just stay relaxed, find your timing,” he tells me.

“Get respect, then find your flow state,” Paolo says.

“Be first,” Topnoi tells me.

It’s all abbreviated reminders of what we long discussed in training. We want to find a clean shot early, which could allow me to dictate the pace and get him biting on my feints more.

I enjoy setting traps, but I won’t be able to flow and be tricky unless I get that respect.

I rotate and stretch my arms one last time.

The bell rings, and we’re off.

I extend my arm and offer to touch gloves. He reaches out and taps it.

“Use this round to warm up,” I hear my brother say.

My opponent immediately fires a right head kick, which I dodge easily by leaning back. I smirk at him.

He aggressively throws a push kick. I parry it with my left and crack him with a right hook to the body.

That’ll make you hesitate to come in like that.

Nope. He just throws a right hand with all his weight, so I slip to the side and throw two counters.

He still doesn’t take a step back. He throws an even wilder right hand. I see it coming and try to roll with the punch, but it still lands. My back is on the ropes, and he just slings a flurry of punches!

I block most of them, but I feel a left hook connect on me clean. I pivot and crack him with a big right straight. I see sweat flying off his head.

Surely that shot will make him pause at least.

Nope. He’s right back to throwing flurries, trying to knock me out with each shot. I slip, stiff arm, and side step, exploding out of that corner with more urgency. He immediately presses forward and doesn’t let up.

Push kick, more bombs.

What the hell? I thought Thais normally start slow.

I clinch him up to try and slow his frantic pace, but I remain defensive from here. I’m observing what he wants to do, and how good he is on the inside. I really don’t want to get cut from elbows or concede points from throws.

The referee separates us, and my legs suddenly feel heavy, like I’m walking in sand and dragging around ankle weights. It’s the same feeling as the time I fought without warming up.

It’s fine. You’ve been here before.

“Elbows from there!” I hear my corner yell. I nod, but I’m still trying to observe his clinch game.

As we reset, I immediately fake a punch and crack him with a leg kick. It lands flush, and it turns his body.

That must’ve hurt.

He lands a punch during another flurry and I clinch up again. He lands a knee to my side, but I reverse and turn him to the ropes until the referee breaks us up.

No sweep or elbow attempts again.

I use the same setup. Fake right hand, then a hard low kick. He reacts the same way, so I pivot and slip out to dodge his right hand.

I tie him up. Before he can react, I crack him with a solid elbow that slams his head back.

He still just immediately charges forward, and I’m starting to get annoyed.

What will it take to get this guy to slow down?

As he charges in, I counter with a body shot.

If your chin is this strong, maybe you’re more vulnerable elsewhere.

We clinch again, and we each land a knee before we’re broken up.

I know he’s going to rush forward, so I throw a front kick to the body to stop his forward motion and follow up with a low kick. He still walks forward, so I crack him again with another leg kick that turns his body.

More of the same after, fake jab, hard leg kick. He throws a body kick and I catch and counter with two shots. That right hand sends his sweat flying again.

Are you still not going to stop?!

“Topic!” I hear my brother yell. That’s code Paolo and I have for a specific sweep we like from Muay Thai star Ognjen Topic.

I land a right hand then try to kick out his lead leg just as he steps forward. The move is perfect for ultra aggressive opponents like this, but it doesn’t quite land properly.

I set up another leg kick, then land an elbow as he clinches. The bell rings to end the first round.

He never stopped moving forward. This is really pissing me off.

Topnoi takes my mouthpiece and gives me a sip of water the moment I get to the corner.

“You see everything he’s doing, right? So why are you inside brawling?!” Paolo says. He clearly isn’t happy, and he knows I’m fighting out of character.

Topnoi asks me to take three long deep breaths. He then blows on my right ear. He does the same on my left.

Is he making sure all my airways are clear? I don’t really feel tired, but that was completely new to me.

“Fight hard and show me heart, okay?” With his tone, it’s clear Topnoi is trying to pump me up, before proceeding with technical advice. He asks me to throw more elbows.

“Hands up, watch, and counter hard!”

Topnoi makes me do three more deep breaths, before stretching both of my legs.

“He’s just trying to brawl. You don’t need to stay in there,” Paolo says. “There’s so many openings if you just watch him!”

The bell rings to start round two, and we meet in the center.

I start by feinting with a weak inside leg kick to draw out a reaction. As I see him start to move in, I counter with a big body shot. I put my weight on it and slam my fist on his midsection. We both land, but I know mine was far cleaner.

I see him grimace and he drops to the floor.

He quickly gets back up, and the referee motions us to continue.

Shouldn’t you count that as a knockdown?

It doesn’t matter. He’s tough, but I now know he’s human.

I feint again and see a brief sign of hesitation for the first time. I throw a hard leg kick that twists his body. He still isn’t in a position to defend, so I quickly double up with another leg kick. Another.

The third hard shot to his leg finally forces him to move, and he just rushes in with another flurry. One of them hits me in the face, but I smile after seeing some frustration as I circle out of danger. He’s still wildly chasing after me, so I stop and meet him with a straight right hand.

I clinch and crack him with a right elbow. I adjust my arms to get a full Thai plum, turn him to the ropes and land a knee to his side.

After what I’ve seen, I’m done being defensive in the clinch.

I see a straight right hand coming so I dip to the side and crack him to the body.

I clinch and try to toss him down to score points, but the ropes catch him. I throw a punch to the body and an elbow to the head.

He grabs on with all his might to prevent another elbow. It’s annoying that he’s just waiting for the referee to save him. I’m not in a position to strike, so I just shove my forearm to his neck and push his head backwards over the ropes. I keep him in this uncomfortable position until the referee gives him the reset he wanted.

That was petty, but if he wants an ugly fight, I’ll give it to him.

I immediately push forward after the restart, and throw a big superman punch.

It lands flush.

Sweat flies off as it turns his head, and I hear the crowd scream.

I can normally block everything out apart from my cornermen, but it’s my first time hearing cheers this loud. I catch myself mentally “taking pictures” and enjoying my work, missing a split second chance to follow up with a combination.

Instead, I just land in a clinch and get a Thai plum. I throw a knee to his head. Another. I shrug him off balance, turn him to the corner, then elbow his face hard.

I land a jab, then I see him charging forward, so I kick out his lead leg before he can put weight on it. It connects and he awkwardly drops to the mat.

TOPIC!!

I’m ecstatic after finally timing that sweep perfectly.

He stands back up and fires off another body kick. Instead of catching or blocking, I just take it and throw a heavy shot at the same time. I land flush on his chin, and I finally see him grimace and react differently.

After another short shot to the chin, I turn him to the corner. I swing and connect with a hard elbow. Another. And another!

These big shots are hurting him! I need to land more.

I fire a front kick to the body, land in a lefty southpaw stance, then hit him with a lead right hook.

He throws a wild punch, desperately looking to answer back big, but I slip out underneath and let him barrel through the ropes.

He comes forward again, so I land another hard front kick to the body, looking to deplete his gas tank. I miss with a big right hand and we end up in a clinch. I explode on another knee to his body, and the bell rings.

The round is over, and I’m irked at how tough this guy is.

As I’m walking to my corner, my body starts feeling weary.

I’m only just realizing now how exhausting it is to keep throwing all these big shots. I remember Muay Thai judging can include fighters’ demeanors though, so I put on my best poker face, and raise my fist to play to the crowd.

“How are you feeling? Are you tired?” Paolo asks.

“Yup,” I nod back.

I see his face change. I guess that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear.

Coaches Piak and Topnoi both start massaging my arms and neck. They pour ice water on my head. Topnoi blows on my ears again, the same way as earlier.

Kru Beer and Paolo are giving technical instructions, but I’m still just trying to catch my breath and I’m not sure if I’ll remember them all. I’m staring blankly outside the ring and towards the crowd for a second, when I feel a light slap on my cheek.

I didn’t even realize I was starting to space out, but Topnoi got me fully focused again.

“Deep breath!” he says firmly.

I inhale deep, exhale hard.

“Again!” Topnoi yells.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“Again!!”

“Do you have power?” he asks me.

I nod.

“Do you have power?!” he asks again, not quite satisfied with my response.

“Yes!”

Damn, that was good. I’m actually getting fired up again now.

“Just be careful of the first thirty seconds,” Paolo gives a final warning as the referee wipes down my face and gloves. “He’ll surely come out desperate to finish.”

I nod and the bell rings to start the third round.

My opponent immediately starts with a body kick. I catch it and look to counter, but he beats me to the punch and lands clean on my face. I try to clinch and answer back with a knee, but instead he lands a short right hand.

I throw a punch to his body hoping to slow him down, but he just tries to bully me inside. He throws a flurry of knees. One. Two. Three. They’re not very hard shots, but it’s still connecting to my side.

Four. Five. Six.

That last knee landed low. I’m furious.

Seven.

I crack him with a short shot to the chin. It lands hard, but I immediately clinch up to slow him down and take a breath.

I check a kick then land a right hand. He’s firing back with more punches, trying to force this into a slugfest. We clinch up and he’s back to throwing knees. One of them lands low again

This time the referee sees it and warns him for the low blow.

I’m fine. That metal cup held up, but f–k, this fight is getting so ugly.

As soon as the referee signals to fight, he immediately rushes forward again. I step back twice and fire an inside leg kick. I know he’ll just keep pressing on, so I meet him with a crushing elbow.

His forward momentum only increases the impact, and I hear a thud as my elbow slams on his temple. His demeanor completely changes.

I turn him to the ropes and throw another elbow. Another. Instead of bullishly pressing ahead, I see him turn away a little for the first time in this fight.

My eyes light up as I see him vulnerable. I throw another hard elbow.

I hear my corner banging on the apron, screaming at me to get after him. But he ties me up, holding on to get the referee to save him.

I walk to the center of the ring as the referee resets us. He’s still hurt! I see him gingerly walking forward, and I go for the same combo that’s been landing.

Front kick to the midsection makes him wince and drop his hands.

Right hand to the jaw lands flush.

He slowly drops to the mat.

The referee jumps down with him, trying to catch his head and brace it from impact.

Is it really over?

I slowly walk away as I see the referee waving the fight off.

I know I just won, but I’m angry with myself.

In the second it takes to walk away from my fallen opponent, several thoughts are already flooding my head.

I could’ve done so much better.

As I’m walking away, clouded in disappointment, I feel the referee suddenly pulling me back to the center of the ring.

He raises my hand. The audience cheers.

Wait, what? Why?

Could that have actually been an entertaining fight?

I’m still dumbfounded by the crowd’s reaction, but I raise my arms to acknowledge them and walk towards my corner.

My confusion mounts as I see my coaches, my friends and my girlfriend all beaming at me looking so proud and happy. Paolo goes up the ring and meets me with a high five and a light hug.

It’s at this moment where it all dawns on me.

You f–king idiot!

I catch myself, realizing this is just my usual emotional post-fight outburst. This has happened in each of my fights, regardless of outcome. I’m still overly critical of every single thing that went wrong. I still forget everything I did right.

Enough with your tantrum! Just appreciate what you achieved while you’re still here.

I get out of my head and snap back to reality, realizing that my opponent is still down. I head over to check on him.

I bow to each of his coaches, thanking them for the fight. They politely acknowledge me, before immediately going back to attending to my opponent.

As he’s slowly helped back to his feet, the crowd starts clapping.

I walk back to my corner and exit the ring to hug my coaches.

So many thoughts and emotions are coursing through, but I have to try and shelve all of that for later. Alex is already up next.

“You can’t stay ringside like that,” one of the organizers suddenly tells me.

I hate that I can’t be in Alex’s corner, but I didn’t even think about dress code or optics while I’m still shirtless and sweating all over the place.

By the time I tidy up and return, Alex is already spamming spinning backfists to the delight of the crowd. He’s clearly winning, and I guess he doesn’t need any of my help with the Bantao pit crew of violence around.

Soon enough, they announce a unanimous decision win. I’m so happy for him, knowing how hard we’ve worked for this moment.

2-0. We really pulled it off.

“Are those your friends?” My girlfriend asks, pointing to the top row of people watching the fights.

I look over, and they’re all waving at me.

I awkwardly wave back, before whispering, “I have no idea who they are.”

“That whole row was cheering hard and screaming your name the entire time,” she tells me. “I assumed you trained with them or something.”

They’re still waving me over, so I make my way up the bleachers to their top row. They all congratulate me and take a few photos, before one of them asks, “do you speak Filipino?”

“Oo naman!” I respond back in affirmation. They laugh and offer me high fives, before revealing that they’re all from a nearby province back home.

“We didn’t plan on watching Muay Thai fights, until we saw you on the poster,” he says, explaining that the Philippine flag was the clincher. “We thought it’d be fun to root for a countryman, and I’m glad we ended up attending.”

I honestly feel honored and touched to randomly find strong Filipino support all the way in Thailand. But I don’t exactly know how to say that, so I just make awkward jokes about how they wasted money on me.

“Sayang pera,” I tell them in Filipino, and laugh. “I could’ve ruined your trip.”

I thank them for coming out, and force my introverted self to socialize and continue with a little more small talk.

I buy a few beers and sodas to celebrate with the Bangtao Muay Thai crew, as we all decide to sit in the audience and watch the remaining fights together.

“Nice walk-off KO!” Alex says as I hand him a beer.

“I was just mad at myself. I wasn’t trying to look cool,” I say with a laugh.

“I wanted to land big to get respect, then I weirdly just wanted to keep landing big to hurt him,” I tell them. “I feel like I threw technique out the window.”

“That happens,” Topnoi responds. “First 10 fights, always like that. 20, still there but lesser. 30, 40, even less.”

Damn. Spoken like a guy with over a hundred fights.

“The most important thing is you trained hard and stepped in there, you understand? This win, everything right here, this is something you won’t ever forget,” Topnoi says.

He’s right.

I raise my beer and thank Topnoi and all the coaches for the sage advice.

“This is pretty much the best case scenario, but I can’t even walk straight,” I say with a laugh as I’m limping back to the hotel. There’s a gash on my shin, but it’s the muscles around it that feel a lot worse.

Damn, this is all just from kicking without shin guards.

I hear a motorcycle approaching, and realize it’s actually the tattooed tuk tuk guy from earlier. I didn’t think we’d run into him again, but I wave as he passes by.

It takes him a second, but as soon as he recognizes us, he slams on the brakes hard. I notice his passenger looking confused through all this.

He looks back and excitedly yells, “How was the fight??”

“He won! Knockout!” my girlfriend shouts back.

He suddenly makes a U-turn towards us, then gestures to his passenger to walk the rest of the way.

Shit. Sorry, bro.

His eyes light up as they show him short clips of the fight. Watching the actual video makes me see things more objectively as well.

It really wasn’t as bad as I thought.

“Oh my god,” he reacts to the finish. “They were worried, but I knew you could do it!!”

I’m going to miss all the nice people on this island.

“Did you know I was secretly hoping you’d pull out of the fight?” my girlfriend reveals after seeing me wince with each step.

“What?” I blurt out and laugh.

“I was never really going to get in the way of your dream though,” she says. “At least you’re okay, and this is all done now.”

She looks me in the eyes after not hearing a response.

“Wait. This is all done now, right?”

Previous ‘From Writing to Fighting’ editions:

[ Opening Round | Second Round ]

[ Brothers in Arms | Millennial Medals ]

[ Coaching a Colleague | Preparing for Pressure ]

[ Colleagues Competing | Bloody Debut ]

[ Thailand Part 1 | Thailand Part 2 ]

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About the author: Anton Tabuena is the Managing Editor for Bloody Elbow. He’s been covering MMA and combat sports since 2009, and has also fought in MMA, Muay Thai and kickboxing. (full bio)

A couple of fighters have mocked Dana White’s recent comments.

Since being caught on camera slapping his wife, Dana White made his first public appearance to the media on Wednesday night. The UFC President confirmed that he won’t really face any consequences, pretty much saying he’s rich enough not to get affected by any sanctions anyway.

“What should the repercussions be? I take 30 days off? How does that hurt me? I told you guys when we were going through COVID, COVID could last 10 years. I could sit it out.” White said. “Me leaving hurts the company, hurts my employees, hurts the fighters. It doesn’t hurt me. I could’ve left in 2016.

“Here’s my punishment: I have to walk around for however long I live… and this is how I’m labeled now,” he said. “The punishment is that I did it, and now I have to deal with it.”

While The UFC President will seemingly just continue business as usual, and not everyone has been too happy about it. UFC veterans Ramsey Nijem and Al Iaquinta took to twitter to mock White’s comments.

“When I was suspended for 9 months for weed I think the better punishment would have been known as a weed user,” Nijem wrote. “That’s the punishment commissioners being known as a weed user, I have to live with that the rest of my life.”

“When I was suspended from winning bonuses for 3 fights for cursing at the crowd and wrecking a hotel room, I think the better punishment would have been to be known as a crowd cursing hotel wrecker,” Iaquinta followed.

Apart from White’s latest statements, UFC’s parent company Endeavor and ESPN have remained silent about the incident.

While White will seem to avoid any real punishments, 17 State Senators and 32 Assemblywomen have recently called for his “immediate removal” as UFC President. Sports stars and Hollywood actors have also expressed frustration on the uneven treatment White has received compared to other public figures.

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About the author: Anton Tabuena is the Managing Editor for Bloody Elbow. He’s been covering MMA and combat sports since 2009, and has also fought in MMA, Muay Thai and kickboxing. (full bio)

Senators say Endeavor’s “silence speaks volumes.”

Since Dana White was caught on video slapping his wife, Endeavor, UFC, and their broadcast partners ESPN and TBS have all remained silent on the matter. Given their inaction, a group of legislators have now called for White’s “immediate removal” as UFC President following the appalling and “alarming” incident.

California State Senator Nancy Skinner has penned an open letter to Ari Emanuel on behalf of 17 State Senators and and 32 Assemblywomen, telling the Endeavor CEO and UFC owner that “it is time to remove Mr. White from his leadership role.”

The letter, which comes from the bipartisan organization California Legislative Women’s Caucus, also called out Emanuel’s “hypocrisy” as his previous strong views seemingly don’t apply now that it’s his bottomline that’s involved.

“In the days since the video was released, you have remained silent,” the letter reads. “Your continued silence speaks volumes. As you once wrote: “Silence and inaction are not an option.” We agree — and we are urging you to take immediate action.

“…The head of a major sporting organization cannot claim to be for the safety of women while a video of him striking his wife continues to circulate online without a response from you. The hypocrisy is astounding. Enough is enough. It is time to remove Mr. White from his leadership role, to allow him and his partner to get the help they need while reminding the world of what Endeavor stands for and that violence against women is not a conduct that you condone.”

As the letter referenced, Emanuel has been vocal about past controversies, with the Hollywood mogul recently penning two op-eds speaking out against antisemitism from the likes of Kanye West and Dave Chappelle. He called for a boycott of West, saying “it’s up to all of us to stop regarding silence as an acceptable option.”

He also previously called for Hollywood to shun Mel Gibson for his bigoted comments, “even if it means a sacrifice to their bottom line.”

The UFC is one of the main drivers of Endeavor’s business, with the MMA promotion now making over a billion dollars a year.

The open letter can be read in full below:

Dear Mr. Emanuel,

We write with deep concern about the recent violent video we have seen online from the Ultimate Fighting Championship (U.F.C.) President Dana White. Our caucus, which is both bicameral and bipartisan, is composed of women across the State of California who are committed to creating better lives for women and girls. We care deeply about intimate partner violence, and we have seen how partner violence affects the lives of children and families. Most importantly, we are deeply aware of how impactful our actions are on the minds of young people, who learn from what we tolerate and what we condemn.

Given Mr. White’s previous remarks against domestic partner violence, we believed that Endeavor and the U.F.C. shared this commitment to safety, respect, and accountability. You yourself have written extensively about the need to speak out and act when we see things that are not in line with our values.

And yet, we have seen the video of U.F.C. President Dana White, where he strikes his wife at a New Year’s Eve celebration with a closed fist. We were appalled. It was alarming to say the least.

In the days since the video was released, you have remained silent. Your continued silence speaks volumes. As you once wrote: “Silence and inaction are not an option.”

We agree — and we are urging you to take immediate action. Like you, we are people who live by our values.

We, too, are people of action. We are allies against violence, advocates for women, and we are parents like yourself. This is why it is clear to us: we are calling for the immediate removal of Mr. White as President of the U.F.C.

Every day that Mr. White’s actions go unaccounted for, your silence becomes more piercing and troubling. At this point, thousands of young men, women, and adults worldwide have seen the video of Mr. White striking his wife. We have also seen his apology. What we have not seen is any consequences for his actions.

As Chief Executive Officer of Endeavor, the U.F.C.’s parent company, you have the authority to decide who leads the U.F.C., which is one of the world’s most watched sporting leagues, with millions of fans across the globe. Mr. White is not only the external face of the U.F.C., he is the leader who sets the expectations for the athletes as well. He is the leader who has explained in years past that he stands firmly against domestic violence. If an athlete were to commit violence against their partner, Mr. White is the leader within U.F.C. who will have to determine the consequence. The eyes of the world are on him and on Endeavor.

The head of a major sporting organization cannot claim to be for the safety of women while a video of him striking his wife continues to circulate online without a response from you. The hypocrisy is astounding. Enough is enough. It is time to remove Mr. White from his leadership role, to allow him and his partner to get the help they need while reminding the world of what Endeavor stands for and that violence against women is not a conduct that you condone.

Sincerely,

Nancy Skinner, Chair
Senator, 7th District

Cecilia Aguiar-Curry, Vice Chair
Assemblymember, 4th District

Other Hollywood actors and sports stars have also recently spoken out about the uneven media coverage on the issue.

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About the author: Anton Tabuena is the Managing Editor for Bloody Elbow. He’s been covering MMA and combat sports since 2009, and has also fought in MMA, Muay Thai and kickboxing. (full bio)

Washington Wizards star Kyle Kuzma took shots at sports media for their lack of coverage on Dana White.

Dana White was caught on camera slapping his wife, and while the UFC President offered “no excuses” for this behavior, several fighters and even media alike still made ones for him. A lot of mainstream media outlets have either remained silent, or been particularly soft on White when discussing the issue.

This sort of thing would never be tolerated in other mainstream sports, and it’s exactly what NBA star and combat sports fan Kyle Kuzma pointed out on social media.

Kuzma, a one-time NBA champion with the Lakers and current top scorer for the Washington Wizards, took shots at ESPN and the general sports media for how they’ve handled White’s situation.

“Question to sports media why do you guys pick and choose when you blast ppl.. Dana white???? Hmmm,” Kuzma wrote on twitter.

“ESPN’s coverage on this Dana White situation is flat out embarrassing!!!!,” he followed up.

ESPN executives, who have a lucrative multi-year partnership with the UFC, have been largely silent about White hitting his wife. ESPN previously issued a statement to Bloody Elbow directing comment to the UFC, and seemingly washing their hands of the situation by saying they simply handle “distribution” for the MMA leader.

It’s not surprising to see an NBA star speak out against the uneven coverage, as compared to how basketball stars are treated, White has been clearly handled with kid gloves.

NBA controversies typically dominate headlines for long stretches, with calls for owners, coaches and players to get cut or fired being a norm in the media cycle.

When NBA star Kyrie Irving tweeted a link to a film based on an antisemitic book, it aptly garnered nationwide attention for months, costing him sponsors and getting him suspended without pay. His team called him “unfit to be associated with the Brooklyn Nets,” and media naturally called him worse after promoting dangerous and terrible beliefs associated with that book. Charlotte Hornets’ Miles Bridges is unsurprisingly still without a job after his domestic violence case, with teams not wanting to be associated with the player.

Team owners like Donald Sterling and Robert Sarver were both fined millions, then forced to vacate their position and sell their shares with their NBA teams after being caught saying controversial and racist comments.

Stephen A. Smith routinely trashes basketball players and makes personal attacks on their character for the most mundane things, like switching teams or taking (or not taking) bad shots. However, when dealing with the UFC’s most recent controversy, he instead just went to ESPN to say he loves and supports Dana White and only wishes him the best after this incident.

Yahoo! Sports’ Kevin Iole somehow felt the need to list “all the good White has done in this world” when talking about how the UFC President should only briefly take time away from the spotlight. TMZ also continued their UFC friendly coverage and seemingly tried to give the UFC President an out and an excuse after White granted them the one interview about the topic.

Sports media aren’t the only ones deserving of criticism, as massive companies where White holds influence and lucrative partnerships with have all been lacking in any proper response as well.

Even if they don’t plan on any taking action against White, it seems easy enough for organizations like Endeavor, UFC, ESPN and TBS to do the absolute bare minimum by condemning domestic violence and any violence towards women. Instead, they’re content to remain silent, seemingly hoping people just forget as they’re still all continuing as scheduled as if nothing happened.

Hector Garcia didn’t come out for the ninth round against Gervonta Davis.

Hector Garcia was more competitive in the ring than many people gave him credit for, but in the end, it was the hard hitting Gervonta Davis that still prevailed.

Ahead on the scorecards, “Tank” landed big shots at the eight round, where he badly hurt Garcia. The Dominican boxer showed a great chin and didn’t go down, but apparently the damage was already done.

In his corner, Garcia told his coaches that he couldn’t see. This prompted his team to throw in the towel and end the fight before the ninth round.

It was officially ruled a TKO via retirement, with the judges also had him ahead on points before the stoppage, with scores of 78-74, 79-73, 79-73.

Garcia noted in his post-fight interview that he was in no condition to continue fighting in the ninth round, but the vision on his right eye eventually returned soon after.

Tank improved his unbeaten record to 28-0, with 26 knockouts. After the fight, Davis confirmed plans to face the popular and undefeated Ryan Garcia next in April.

Official result: Gervonta Davis def. Hector Luis Garcia by TKO (Retirement), R9

Watch highlights from the WBA lightweight title clash between Davis and Garcia below.

In this two part series, Bloody Elbow’s Managing Editor, Anton Tabuena flies to Thailand to compete in Muay Thai.

“Hey!”

We’re heading back from the gym when I see a familiar face. It’s the tattooed guy we rented tuk tuks from earlier in the week, cheerfully waving me over.

“I saw you on the posters!” he excitedly yells. “I’ll try to watch on Sunday for you!”

I thank him and marvel at how genuinely nice and supportive the people here have all been whenever they find out I’m competing in Muay Thai. I haven’t really told anyone, but it’s no use hiding anything after posters went up in Bangtao and all over Phuket this week.

“You’re fighting?? Are you sure?” Another guy overhears our conversation and gives me this look of genuine concern. “You’re Filipino? If you’re as good as Manny Pacquiao, I’d be less worried!”

I laugh but before I can respond, he’s already sizing up my skinny frame and inspecting my body.

“Have you been training hard? Okay, I guess this is okay,” he says after suddenly pressing on my abs. He then looks at my thin calves. “This, hmm. Not so much. Thais kick legs a lot!”

The first guy looks almost proud that one of his clients is fighting, while the other just looks legitimately concerned about my well-being.

“I hope you do well, but be very careful of these, okay?” he says while pointing to his elbows and knees.

I laugh and say thanks, before trying to assure them I’ll be okay.

I’m in the back row of a van that the team rented, and we’re on the way to the stadium. It’s officially fight night, but for some reason, that conversation from a few days ago plays back into my head.

“Are you sure?”

It’s wild how even a simple and good intentioned question can push the right buttons and unleash doubts that I didn’t even know I had.

I’m three years older and rustier because of this pandemic, but I figured this impromptu trip was a good excuse to fight again before I get too old.

Is it really, though? Will I react properly after being out for so long? Was it wise to just jump into my first professional fight like this?

No shin guards, no headgear, and a Thai opponent in Thailand. Will my body hold up for that? It barely even held up in training.

Did I spar and drill enough?

Am I even good enough?

“Are you sure?”

I catch myself and realize that if I need assurances, all I ever need to do is to just look around at the people sitting with me in this van.

I see my brother Paolo, my girlfriend, good friends, and supportive teammates like Alex, who will also be fighting tonight. It’s reassuring looking over to the front row and knowing that the three killers calmly sitting there all have my back.

Kru Beer, Topnoi Kiwram and Piak Mitsatit. These three decorated coaches from Bangtao Muay Thai & MMA are just cracking jokes without a worry in the world, and I suddenly don’t think my opponent is even worth stressing about anymore.

With championships and literally hundreds of wins between them, this trio brings a wealth of knowledge and experience that’s enough to coach even the best UFC stars, let alone some random guy like me.

Instead of worrying about what ifs in the near future, I’m just grateful I got to train with ninjas twice a day and have this all-star lineup in my corner tonight.

I recline my seat, lean back and put my earphones on to keep my head clear. I turn the volume up, and start blasting “Beach House” on repeat.

Yep. It works every time.

Big fight! Big fight! Tonight! Tonight! Bangla Boxing Stadium! Bangla Boxing Stadium!

The speaker blares loudly, constantly repeating a slogan that’ll surely get stuck in my head again. It’s the perfect signal that we have indeed arrived at the venue.

We all exit the van, and I immediately see my face and the Philippine flag on a pair of trucks parked nearby. It’s still weird seeing myself on a fight poster, and there’s a bunch of them all around this venue. Security just waves us through as they already know Topnoi and the other Bangtao Muay Thai coaches.

I go up the flight of stairs to enter the stadium, and I immediately see the huge ring to my left. Its black canvas has “Bangla Stadium” written in white, with the Yokkao logo at the center. Bright lights and blue bleachers surround the ring, giving Phuket’s most popular arena that distinct look it’s been known for.

We go up another set of stairs to the holding area for fighters. It’s still early, but the familiar smell of liniment already fills the air.

I’m so glad we watched fights here at the start of our trip.

Having been here to support other Bangtao fighters before has helped me visualize this very moment in the days prior. It’s paying dividends tonight as well.

Now that I have a decent idea on what to expect, it suddenly doesn’t feel like I’m experiencing too many things for the first time. While that can seem trivial to some, I think that’s the trick to dealing with high stress situations better.

I fill up a few forms, and look at tonight’s fight card for the first time. Half of it is in Thai, but I can at least understand that I’m fighting third.

“Antan. Philippines. Red Corner. 130 lbs.”

I chuckle at the typo on my name, and figure that there’s really no weigh-ins on these events.

I also notice that my opponent pictured on the poster is now fighting second, and he’s listed to be five pounds heavier. There’s a different name next to mine. So I guess I’m fighting a different guy now?

I don’t really care either way.

This is about me and trying to fight to the best of my ability. The game plan remains the same.

I stretch a little and wonder if I have enough time for my pre-fight power nap. There’s a bunch of metal beds here that seem perfect for it.

“Sit here, you need to get your hands wrapped now,” Kru Beer instead calls me over.

“Isn’t Alex second, and I’m third?” I ask.

“No, you’re second!” Kru Beer responds. “You’re fighting the same opponent.”

“Oh.”

No naps I guess.

I’m marveling at how different the wraps are being done by Kru Beer now compared to my previous fights. I’m trying to keep a mental note of everything he’s doing with the tape and gauze, but I give up halfway. There’s just no way I’ll remember how to do this all by myself.

Kru Beer pounds on my right knuckles as he finishes wrapping them. He asks if it feels good. I wiggle my fingers and tap on my fists, before nodding back. He starts to work on my left hand, and I feel my heart start beating faster.

This is really happening.

Tonight! Tonight! Thai Boxing. Muay Thai. The biggest fight of the month! Tonight! Tonight!

“I saw your opponent. He’s probably just an inch shorter than me,” my brother Paolo tells me. “I already sized him up for you.”

This entire time, we’ve been preparing to fight someone much shorter, planning to use my reach and control distance. After all, with my unusually tall and lanky frame, everyone in my weight will almost surely be wider but much shorter.

“I guess this really happens when there’s no actual weigh-ins,” I tell him. “It’s fine. I sparred with you a lot anyway.”

Paolo is roughly the same height as me but around 15 pounds heavier, so it’s nothing I haven’t really seen before. I sparred with far bigger pros in Bangtao too.

“Yup. You got this,” Paolo says. “His shadowboxing skills didn’t look that sharp either.”

I appreciate how he’s helping me know what to expect in there, but at the same time, I don’t really care much at this point. We knew there could be weight discrepancies or even opponent changes, so in my mind, I’m good to go no matter what they throw at me.

I’m actually more curious on how he got such a detailed scouting report.

“I went to the other side of the arena and literally stood right next to him like this,” Paolo says, demonstrating how he crossed his arms and stood tall, while not actually looking directly at him.

“Seriously?”

I start laughing at the image of him pretending to be some random fan that’s just standing there, casually invading his personal space.

Big fight! Big fight! Tonight! Tonight!

Kru Beer is behind me, helping tie the strings to this metal Thai cup that goes over my underwear. It’s my first time wearing this kind of groin guard for a fight, and it’s every bit as uncomfortable as everyone warned me.

“Like a g-string, but tied tightly right up to your a–hole,” Alex quips.

I put on one more layer of compression shorts on top of it to make sure it doesn’t shift much, and I put on these bright and colorful Bangtao fight shorts over them. I try to tug on the string downwards to make it feel a little more comfortable, but it’s not really helping.

I knock on the metal cup twice. I guess it does feel safer than the normal plastic ones I’ve been used to. At least there’s that.

Yes, just focus on that, and not any possible chafing. Positive thinking, or whatever.

“Remove your shirt and lie down here,” Piak motions me over, and opens a bottle of Thai liniment. I’m not sure why it dawned on me late, but I finally understand what all these metal beds are for specifically.

“Cover your face with your shirt,” Piak says as all three coaches apply liniment and start massaging my entire body. “I don’t want this to get in your eyes.”

They ask me to turn around, and they start massaging the rest of my body. Everything feels nice and warm from the liniment, but a few sensitive parts are starting to have this burning sensation.

My coaches make me stand to help stretch my legs, but at the same time, I’m lowkey trying to wipe off some of the oil that’s burning my armpits.

Ooof.

Sarama, the traditional Muay Thai music, is playing in the arena.

I look over and Kru Beer has already picked the gloves I’ll be wearing from the set they have for everyone in the Red corner.

These clearly aren’t the pillows I’ve used in my older amateur bouts, and they’re also really soft and broken in.

“People have fought in these already,” I say the moment I put on these red Yokkao boxing gloves. “They’re small too. Nice.”

I can’t wait to hit pads and test these out better before the fight.

Kru Beer laces up my right glove, making sure the knot goes above my wrist, just over where some of the padding starts. He starts taping it when I hear the crowd go crazy.

I don’t really understand what they’re saying, but with the way the ringside announcer is screaming, it seems like the first fight just ended with a shocking knockout. One of those two women I saw earlier must have been finished very early in the first round.

That ended a lot sooner than I expected.

I’m next.

I won’t have time to warm up. I don’t even have my second glove on yet.

Topnoi quickly starts lacing up my left glove. It’s the same technique, with the knot sliding down the padding up to the exact spot Kru Beer just did for my other glove. He quickly tapes it, and mere seconds later, I’m good to go.

Wraps, liniment, massage, stretching, and now gloves.

The three Bangtao Muay Thai coaches have all been working quickly and in sync with each task, like a Formula One pit crew built for violence. They’ve obviously done this countless times, and I can’t even imagine how I’d handle all these sudden changes if not for them.

I’m really not going to get to warm up, on my pro debut no less.

That thought briefly crosses my mind, but I squash it as quickly as it entered.

It’s done. I can’t waste energy dwelling on the past, when I still have a big task ahead of me.

I’m about to have a Muay Thai fight in Thailand. After these last couple of years, I didn’t even think this would be possible anymore.

I’m excited.

F–k warm ups. I’m here now. It’s time.

Gloves. Cup. Mouthpiece. Pink ankle supports. Pink and yellow fight shorts.

I do a really quick mental check of what I’ll need as I’m about to head downstairs for this fight.

“Do you have my outfit?” I ask my girlfriend.

It isn’t just all technique and game plans, I prepared my walkout attire really early too.

She throws it over to my brother Paolo, who helps me wear this bright yellow and orange kimono, with a pattern of white triangles all over. I laugh as I see a puzzled reaction from Kru Beer, who’s seemingly wondering why I’d even want to wear such a thing.

It’s from this anime called Demon Slayer. It’s Zenitsu’s kimono, a character that’s hilarious for being scared all the time, when he can literally destroy people in his sleep without even knowing it.

I’m sure there’s a metaphor here somewhere about facing your fears or being better than you give yourself credit for, but in reality, I just thought it’d be a silly inside joke.

Fighters on big events walk out wearing boxing robes, looking all serious and intimidating. I thought it’d be funny to go out there wearing an anime kimono instead.

I’m not sure if anyone in this arena will even get the reference, but this is my moment and I’m going to have fun with this.

I head down the stairs and make my walk as the music plays. There’s a crowd around me, but there’s only one thing that catches my eyes. All the way through the ropes, on the other side of the ring, I see my opponent for the very first time.

It looks like he really got here much earlier than I did.

I open my arms wide and bounce around a few times as I slowly approach the red corner.

I’m going to take my time and enjoy this moment.

Continued on Part 2.

Previous ‘From Writing to Fighting’ editions:
[ Opening Round | Second Round ]
[ Brothers in Arms | Millennial Medals ]
[ Coaching a Colleague | Preparing for Pressure ]
[ Colleagues Competing | Bloody Debut ]

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About the author: Anton Tabuena is the Managing Editor for Bloody Elbow. He’s been covering MMA and combat sports since 2009, and has also fought in MMA, Muay Thai and kickboxing. (full bio)