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Choked me up.
I never met Rorian, hence have no first hand feeling for how he and Rickson got along, but, yeah, those that know them both have told me about issues back in the day. (Mostly concerning when Rickson first came to the states.) But they're older now, both their lives have changed, their careers are well established, it's good to see.
I understand Rickson's concerns about the time line, but I don't care. I'm just happy for him. I'll tell you what, though, there are a lot of guys who've trained the Arts for - let's pick a number, say ten years - who train a dedicated three or four times a week. Never miss, work hard, train hard, fight hard. Then you have the others, like Rickson and some of his family members, who work harder, longer and more in depth, every single day, all day. Day after day, month after month, year after year. It's kind of nuts, but hey, I salute it.
I've watched Rickson roll with a dozen guys too many times to remember, watched him roll with fifty guys, eighty guys, over a hundred guys - all after a two hour classes or seminars. (there is not one shred of exaggeration in that sentence, honest) And not just hacks like me, serious rollers, rollers of all ilk. He does it like he's watching TV and eating ice cream. And he never hurts anyone, doesn't even seem to move quickly. It's honestly a thing of incredible beauty. (And it's just fricken' nuts)
And he was always the mellowest and kindest of men, and a whole lot of fun.
This is my friend Willie. He's trained the Arts his whole life, since he was a little kid, wrestler, boxer, stick man, knife, some Karate, some other stuff. Grew up and lived in the most dangerous part of the city. Cop, too. But Willie is strong. Freakishly so. We used to call him QT, for quarter ton, because he benches 500 pounds like it's a sack of chickens. Functional strength, too, he was a nightmare to train with, especially with his training experience. One day, before our shift, I was messing with Willie. He grabbed my gunbelt with his hands and did a curl, lifting me like I was a loaf of bread and said, "You have a stain on your shirt, chump." I only weigh one fifty, but he didn't even strain, not even a little. Then he put me down, gently.
Anyway, Rickson came down the school one weekend and was rolling with everyone. Willie was there. I said to Rickson before we started, "The guy in blue is really, really strong, scary strong, wrestler, too." I wasn't worried about Willie taking advantage of Rickson's niceness, Willie is a true gentleman, I just didn't want Rickson to get sandbagged or surprised.
I'll never forget what he said as he patted me on the back, "Do not worry, my friend, I will not hurt him."
That day, Rickson was telling us what he would submit us with, and we were to defend against that particular submission. He told Willie, "Right arm armbar." That's all Willie had to defend against. They rolled five times in a row. You can figure how that went. This was just before the fifth roll. I forget exactly what Willie said, something about cutting off his right arm and burying it first. Rickson replied something about, "Do not worry, I will find it."
It was just so much fun training with him, especially in a relaxed setting, we laughed all day. And would scratch our heads all night, thinking, "wtf?"
View attachment 20872
I never met Rorian, hence have no first hand feeling for how he and Rickson got along, but, yeah, those that know them both have told me about issues back in the day. (Mostly concerning when Rickson first came to the states.) But they're older now, both their lives have changed, their careers are well established, it's good to see.
I understand Rickson's concerns about the time line, but I don't care. I'm just happy for him. I'll tell you what, though, there are a lot of guys who've trained the Arts for - let's pick a number, say ten years - who train a dedicated three or four times a week. Never miss, work hard, train hard, fight hard. Then you have the others, like Rickson and some of his family members, who work harder, longer and more in depth, every single day, all day. Day after day, month after month, year after year. It's kind of nuts, but hey, I salute it.
I've watched Rickson roll with a dozen guys too many times to remember, watched him roll with fifty guys, eighty guys, over a hundred guys - all after a two hour classes or seminars. (there is not one shred of exaggeration in that sentence, honest) And not just hacks like me, serious rollers, rollers of all ilk. He does it like he's watching TV and eating ice cream. And he never hurts anyone, doesn't even seem to move quickly. It's honestly a thing of incredible beauty. (And it's just fricken' nuts)
And he was always the mellowest and kindest of men, and a whole lot of fun.
This is my friend Willie. He's trained the Arts his whole life, since he was a little kid, wrestler, boxer, stick man, knife, some Karate, some other stuff. Grew up and lived in the most dangerous part of the city. Cop, too. But Willie is strong. Freakishly so. We used to call him QT, for quarter ton, because he benches 500 pounds like it's a sack of chickens. Functional strength, too, he was a nightmare to train with, especially with his training experience. One day, before our shift, I was messing with Willie. He grabbed my gunbelt with his hands and did a curl, lifting me like I was a loaf of bread and said, "You have a stain on your shirt, chump." I only weigh one fifty, but he didn't even strain, not even a little. Then he put me down, gently.
Anyway, Rickson came down the school one weekend and was rolling with everyone. Willie was there. I said to Rickson before we started, "The guy in blue is really, really strong, scary strong, wrestler, too." I wasn't worried about Willie taking advantage of Rickson's niceness, Willie is a true gentleman, I just didn't want Rickson to get sandbagged or surprised.
I'll never forget what he said as he patted me on the back, "Do not worry, my friend, I will not hurt him."
That day, Rickson was telling us what he would submit us with, and we were to defend against that particular submission. He told Willie, "Right arm armbar." That's all Willie had to defend against. They rolled five times in a row. You can figure how that went. This was just before the fifth roll. I forget exactly what Willie said, something about cutting off his right arm and burying it first. Rickson replied something about, "Do not worry, I will find it."
It was just so much fun training with him, especially in a relaxed setting, we laughed all day. And would scratch our heads all night, thinking, "wtf?"
View attachment 20872