Am I more Mickey or Rockey?

Hands are being wrapped, mouth pieces are being rinsed, gloves are put on, and Vaseline is being applied as well as the many other pre fight preparations that are standard prior to going into a cage to face another human in a fisted joust. I make note to say "pre fight", as sparring at the Lab is generally a fast paced hard sparring session that more resembles a fight than any practice situation. I've seen people lose their breakfast, stitches needed, and knockouts occurring (generally issued by Benson Henderson and his vicious body blows to those who need more ab excercises).

And after nearly an hour drive, one would think that I, being a fighter myself, would be engaging in such activity as well. Not today. When sparring is going on at the Lab, my paternal instincts take over and I turn into a cantankerous old fellow. All I need is a walker to fit the mold completely. I have every intention of sparring and training during the drive down there, but when I get there, a need for order and structure takes over and I find myself delegating out tasks and telling the other fighters what order they will be sparring in and with whom they will be sparring with. On top of that, I am coaching my fighters as well as anyone else I see in need of some old man MMA knowledge. Sometimes I feel as though I have more in common with Mickey than Rocky.

It was especially important today to have order in the gym as the stellar cast of characters in the room included; Benson Henderson, Efrain Escudero, Demarques Johnson, Shannon Gugerty, Danny Martinez, Mark Vujovic, Vic and Yaotzin Meza, and many many more.

Efrain is finishing up his camp as he readies himself for a tussle with Cole Miller while Benson is waiting to buck the Cowboy from his high horse.

I wish I could say that either of them warranted the most attention, but it would be a lie to squawk such nonsense.

It's an odd thing when you are watching two UFC vets sparring in Efrain and Shannon, and for some reason you find yourself looking at a maniacal midget screaming "sa, sa, sa" as he is throwing combination's to the body, then head followed by a knee with no intended mark, just hoping it his some sort of flesh along the way. Shortly after the Mortal Kombat-esque combo Danny is shooting a takedown not even remotely caring that he is running in to people on the side as well as Thai bags, water bottles and anything else in his way. After he has gone through everything in his path I finally intervene and restart them in the center of the room. Thankfully, Danny acquiesced to my request and restarted without any further damage to the room.

Blood was spilled, hands and legs were bruised and hurt and at the end of the day the battlefield was left with semi alive carcasses with ice wrapped around most of the body parts that were left in tact. All in all it was a good day, but I had to get home early as I needed to watch the evening news, soak my dentures and be in bed by 9pm. You know, there is a Sunday paper filled with coupons in it that won't read itself.