I PUNCHED A SWEDISH GIRL IN THE FACE

Kid on my shoulders

I've done a lot of Martial Arts in my life. I did Tae Kwon Do for 10 years, some Kung Fu (hated it, too complex), Karate at University (dated my instructor, did not end well) and even Yong Moo Do here in Korea. I'm not a violent person at all, but I enjoy the artistry and discipline involved. I'm not bad at it either. I have a few black belts, some legitimate and some (like the one given to me here) that I got for being a foreigner in an all-Korean gym! It even has my name on it in gold thread!

So with this background, I went to a Thai boxing (Muay Thai) bar in Thailand, where they give you a free bucket of alcohol if you fight in the ring. This classy establishment is called Reggae Bar, and is on Koh Phi Phi, in the middle of Tonsai town. Drinks are double the price of anywhere else, which is how they get people in the ring! "Don't buy booze, we'll give it to you for free if you make an ass of yourself! Even better if you're already drunk!"

The idea is basically that friends or challengers go into the ring, put on boxing shorts, gloves and head guards and do "Muay Thai". In reality, drunk/stupid people get in there and beat the crap out of each other for three one-minute rounds. Seriously, people go ape shit, swinging hard and kicking their friends until the bell goes. One guy hit his friend so hard that his eye immediately swelled shut. He carried on though, booze makes you brave.

Real fighters: pic from omaa.org

I wasn't planning on "fighting". It was our last night on vacation and I didn't want to injure myself, given my propensity for doctors and surgery in Korea. All I wanted to do was see a Muay Thai match, because I had dabbled in it in Cape Town and seen some real, pro fights and wanted to see if this was the same or better. More on that later!** Anyway, this bar said there would be real matches in between the drunkards, so we sat around the ring, slowly sipped our 100Baht Chang cans (should be 50B) and waited for the pros.

At one point, a guy came round with his camera, showing all the girls a photo of a petite little thing who wanted to fight someone. I was getting tempted, this didn't look too hard and no-one was doing anything remotely like real MT. It was brawling, pure and simple. So I went to meet with her, she took one look at me and said "hell no". She was tiny though, I would probably have been too scared to touch her in case she broke. But she later returned with another girl in tow, a Swedish (what else, in Thailand?) chickie in a leopard print bra.

Pre-match conversation:
Me: So, have you done this before? Do you have training?
Her: No, I did Tae Bo for a bit but that was long ago (basically aerobics with a bit of kicking).
Me: Ok, let's not go crazy. Just put on a show and get our free booze.
Her: I agree, everyone else looked ridiculous, we'll just do it for fun. Nothing crazy.

I should have bloody known.

So we stepped into the ring and I prepared my opening salvo in my head. "Don't hurt her, but get a few shots in to make it look good. Maybe a light front kick to the stomach". I looked at The Lovely Gen on the sidelines. She wasn't looking so sure as she had a while before. I was nervous, the gloves were too big and the head guard was sweaty and smelly. The bell rang for the start of the first round. DING!

Holy crap, she came running right at me! She swung and shoved and spun me around and punched me in the back of the head before I even had a chance to move! So much for not going crazy. I then realised that she was drunk off her face, I should have known something was up when she danced around the ring in her bra beforehand! She had no fear, no sensation of pain and no control, it was a shit show. I elbowed her in the stomach a few times because she kept spinning me around, and then the bell went. DING! And then BAM! Shot to the back of the head. The crowd did not like that bit of cheating and went BOOOOOO!

In between rounds I gained some supporters, including the little thing who had initially brought this Scandinavian Slapper to my attention. TLG came rushing up, she looked like she was going to cry, poor thing. I was still calm though. I still thought I could go about this in a technically correct, proper way. I should have realised that this would not be the case. In the first round, the first time she spun me around and punched me in the back, I stopped and waited. I expected the ref to pause the fight, but he didn't. I still wasn't clicking that no rules applied!

The second round bell went and it was much of the same. Charge, swing, spin, back punch. She never landed any punches that would score points, like to my torso or my head, she just kept hitting my shoulders and holding on to me. I got a few more elbows in and a punch or two, but then BAM! Another one to the back of the head! Bitch! End of round, DING!

At this point I got another coach, a tall Swedish guy who said, "You're hitting too straight, too correctly. You're being too nice, just swing and hit the bitch in the face! Or unhook her bra! Get nasty!" He was so right. I then decided, "Bugger this for a bunch of bananas," and when the bell rang for the final round I was ready. DING!

She was tiring, so I charged. Kick to the stomach, shoving her backwards. Her eyes wide, she dropped her hands. I went in with one, two, three jabs to the face. Take that, you dirty scrapper! She lunged, spun me around and held on, but I spun around again, six fast shots to the face and head. The crowd was shouting, I had them on my side completely. Everyone loves an underdog, everyone hates a cocky cheater. That third round felt so damn good, she didn't touch me once, and she kept getting blown up for holding on to me. By the end of the round she was hardly throwing a punch. DING DING DING!

In the end the ref had to give it a draw because of my third round comeback. I walked out of the ring and random tanned people came up to me to high five me. It was like I'd won a belt at Madison Square Garden. But god, I was so tired I couldn't even drink my free bucket. I went back to our bungalow and crashed, and the next day I could hardly move my arms. But I didn't lose!

*Here's the video (thanks Brandie!) of the third round. It doesn't look as good as it felt, but you can hear the crowd shouting. I'm the one not in a leopard-print bra (ie. red shorts). Near the end you can see all the face punches in a row (00:35), and you can see how she kept grabbing me from behind. Still, it wasn't pretty, and I'm so unfit!



Oh, the real fights? Imagine WWF-style Thai boxing. Stupid, fake bollocks. I was more pissed about that than anything else, but what did I really expect? It was free, where a real MT fight night costs 100,000W for a good ticket. Lame!

A TODDLER KICKED MY BUTT AT SKIING

People who know anything about South Africa will know that we don't really get snow in winter. Sure, sometimes the Drakensberg will get some fluff, or the mountains near Ceres in the Cape will go a bit white, but for the most part it's not a place where you'd take up skiing. So you can only imagine the hilarity when a bunch of Saffas (and an assortment of other nationalities) attempted to stay upright on skis and snowboards in -5 degree weather.

Muju, freezing cold!

We decided on a day trip and went to Muju, about 3 hours from Daegu. It's apparently not the fanciest of resorts in Korea, but given that most of us had never touched a ski pole, it was perfectly adequate for our meagre needs. I decided to ski rather than be 'cool' and snowboard, mainly because I didn't want to risk breaking my wrist a month before going to Thailand, as a friend of ours did last year. I think I made the right decision, after watching my boarding friends' attempts to stay upright!

We left on a tour bus at 6am and arrived at Muju just before 9. It snowed along the way, which was delightful as it meant there would be real snow on the slopes and not just fake stuff. We were given our very sexy rented ski gear (mine was all blue so I looked like a Smurf) as we got off the bus, and were sent to change, get boots and skis, and meet the instructors. The package we booked (through Daegu Tour for 110k per person for everything) included a lesson for 2 hours, which was a god-send!

Snowboarders went one way and we went another. They got a pretty and relaxed girl who spoke decent English, we got a drill sergeant man who shouted at us, made us stand in two lines and did most things through the dramatic method of mime. I'm exaggerating slightly, but not by much. He was a young guy but very serious about his duties, and made us do the same things over and over again. He taught us how to fall (cross your arms, fall sideways and land on your bum) and shouted if we put our hands out. "No! Nonononono!"

Fay and Teacher discuss standing up after falling.

The most amusing part of the lesson was learning the 'frog position'. We're not quite sure if that's really what it's called, but Megan was doing some vague translating and caught the word frog, and we just added 'position' to it. So anyone who learns from this guy in future and he says 'frog position,' think of me! Anyway, this technique involves putting your skis in a V shape, with the close ends in the front. But your skis can't touch, the tips must be 10cm apart. If they're 9cm or 11cm apart, you'll get a stern "No! Nonononono! 10 centimetah!" from Teacher! So we went down a tiny hill over and over, practising the Frog Position, and anything other than "No!" was taken as a compliment. In the video you can hear him giving detailed instructions, and then saying "No!" after Tim's attempt.

Preparing to go down a little hill.

There were a couple of falls, but none from me, thank the lord. I was terrified of getting hurt, so I concentrated hard all day and stayed on my feet even when doing down the bigger, faster slope. Well, to be fair, there were 4-year-olds going down this beginner hill faster than we were, but when you're on it, it feels like lightning! It's so smooth and slippery, and my skis kept going straight/parallel so I'd go even faster. I couldn't stay in Frog Position! I just breathed as if I were going into labour and focused on not letting my skis cross, and made it down to the bottom without incident.

The only time my bum touched the snow was when I was at the top of the slope, putting my skis back on after the lift to the top. The left one wouldn't go on, so I kept sliding down the hill on the attached right ski and eventually fell on my ass. The Lovely Gen found this hilarious, and only after regaining her breath after laughing did she check if I was ok. Nice, babe! Nice! Shame, she took an almighty tumble a few minutes later though, the poor little thing. Thank god for Myprodol!


Most of us continued to play in the snow for the rest of the afternoon, while others cut their loses and went for some apres-ski coffees at the bottom of the big slopes. The snowboarders joined the skiers in the afternoon and I was very grateful I chose the skis. I don't know how much I'd enjoy not being able to move my feet independently of each other... And they spent more time on their bums than standing upright, and my back isn't in the greatest condition at the best of times. I did try the snowboard near the end of the day, mind you. I sat on it and went down the hill as though on a toboggan!

TLG and Smurf!

Rodney on his snowboard, waiting to go down the hill.

So much pretty in one picture should be illegal.

I BOWLED A TURKEY

This past weekend, The Lovely Gen and I joined some friends for a few frames of gay bowling. It's like regular bowling, except the ball doesn't go as straight. Ha! Sorry. We went bowling with some fellow gaymos and I had a great time! The others? Maybe not so much...

As mentioned before, I love me some bowling and will miss how cheap it is here when I go back to Cape Town. Also... I'm really competitive. Annoyingly so, I'll admit it. I go outside my body when I'm being obnoxious and tell myself to cut it out, but alas I cannot! I find going to bars without pool/darts/beer pong quite boring, and I take great pride in the fact that TLG and I are a pretty great beer pong team. Well, we were before our month-long no-drinking hiatus in November, but I'm sure our mojo will return during this month of December partying!

This competitive spirit carries over into bowling. I hate being bad at it and I get really annoyed when the ball goes into the gutter or hits less than 5 pins. I'll grab my thumb/wrist and make a face, claiming pain or that the ball 'slipped'. Well it did! Stupid lane oil! Everyone else, friends who are normal and don't treat bar sports as though they are life or death situations, smile and nod, scared to poke the bear. They're all, "Whoo hoo, I hit the pins and the ball didn't go in the gutter!" But I'm annoyed when this happens, it makes me sad. It's why I quit golf. My dad always told me, " Don't try and be Tiger Woods, just play the ball properly and stay calm." Yeah right. It didn't work when I was 10, it doesn't work now.

When I do get a strike I'm insufferable and smug. I bow, wave, high five everyone, and then shrug my shoulders as if to say, "Meh. No biggie. Happens all the time." Thank god my friends like me! Or maybe they just put up with me to spend time with TLG... So anyway, this weekend we were bowling with some new people from Busan, so I tried to behave a bit better so they wouldn't hate me and run away. It worked for a while, I was demure and humble after the first strike, but after that I was just too amazing to stay calm!

Seriously, I was on fire, it was like the pins and the ball were magnetically connected. In the final game, I got 154 points (I know that's not really a lot, but for most people I play with it is) which was a personal best and it included the elusive Turkey. A Turkey, according to Answers.com, is "bowling lingo for three strikes in a row. Probably, the most famous score for amateur and professional bowlers alike." Yes indeed! I got three in a row for the first time ever, and took a photo as evidence!

The fact that the next sentence is, "This is partly due to the fact it has an unusual name, and partly because even a beginner can get one," is immaterial. Whatever. Maybe I should invest in one of those fancy gloves that make your arm look robotic... Maybe I should join a league... Maybe I should get a shirt with my name on it...

I RANTED ABOUT CHEATING SPORTSMEN

It must be really difficult being an international sports star. All that money, fame and butt-kissing is tough to deal with, it's no wonder so many players find themselves seeking solace in the boobs of blonde women. I'm looking at you, Mike Tindall/Tiger Woods/Ryan Giggs/Joost van der Westhuizen.

I really don't understand. How hard is it to keep it in your pants, lads? I know you're away from home for long stretches, and that women throw themselves at you constantly, but do you not stop to think about the consequences? I'm not even talking about the moral issues (I'm not conservative about many things, but I do think monogamy is legit), but think about the shit that will hit the fan when you're found out. And you will be found out.

England rugby captain Mike Tindall

Have a good time seeing your wife again, Mike? I expect the next family dinner at the Queen's house is going to be rather awkward for Mikey, given that his wife, Zara Phillips, is the Queen's grandchild. Married 6 weeks, mate. Really? Is it that difficult? You're not exactly David Beckham, son. I'd recognise my good fortune and beg forgiveness, if I were you. Same to you, Peter Crouch and Wayne Rooney. If you weren't sportsmen/millionaires you'd still be virgins.

Though in the interests of balance, it hasn't been proven that Tindall did anything other than stick his head between the blonde woman's boobs and get hammered with some 'dwarves'… But he then went on to lie about going to another bar with her, and only this weekend admitted to doing so. Wow, that's a long time to have memory loss, I wonder what prompted the bout of honesty? Another CCTV video?

What sportspeople who think about 'playing away from home' need to remember is:

A)You are famous, which means it will not stay a secret forever. Someone, be it the person you shagged or a witness, will sell the story at some point. You live in a goldfish bowl, which sucks for you, but it's part of the deal.

B) Even if the missus does forgive you, or believes that nothing happened that time, you've dented the trust she has in you. Every time you go on tour, or go on a night out without her, she will wonder what you're doing and worry. You will never come home to a calm, unquestioning partner again.

C) So to make your life easier, don't be a douche. And if drinking turns you into one, don’t drink. Keep your hands to yourself and your dick in your pants. If you can't do that, leave your wife so she can find someone hotter (Hi Elin Nordegren!).