Slapping The Chicken
Just how bad-ass are you? Probably pretty tough, right? I mean, at least in theory, and when you’re telling tales among friends wherein you came that close to beating the holy hell out of some guy who cut you off in traffic, you’re not someone to be trifled with, not in the least. I hear a lot of people who talk a lot of game when there are no consequences, and I count myself among them. One area where you can’t get away with any of that noise is in the mixed marital arts field. As fate would have it, ThunderChicken, my favorite target of abuse at CrossFit Springfield, is not only a trainer of weaklings like me at the gym, he’s also some sort of chop-socky tough guy in his spare time.
One of his latest posts on Facebook was congratulating a co-fighter of his from the Springfield Fight Club who had recently been cast on the Ultimate Fighter (like number 47 or something) television show. When asked, ThunderClucker had nothing but high praise for his friend who, in his words, possesses “a game day mentality. (He) gets thru practice, then kicks ass on game day”. My game day mentality consists nervously puking before hockey games of any consequence and fighting the urge to urinate every second I’m on the ice.
This got me to thinking: if I could be in any sort of confrontational sport (outside of hockey) and be even mildly successful, I think it would have to be one of my own invention – The Ultimate Slapper. The entire sport/television show theme would involve some trash talk (in the same style as mentioned at the beginning of this post) and then the players just getting up and slapping the ever loving bejeezus out of their opponent. Old school style, with gloves off and in one hand, or just with the back of the hand like a pimp from Pomona, there are infinite variations on the theme you could employ.
I told Thunderchicken of this bold idea, and he immediately threatened me. After he condescendingly stated he might watch such a show, I told him no, you’d be on the show, my first opponent. He said I’d be his first victim. Trash talk right out of the box….kid’s gonna be a star. I informed him that despite the threats, there’s no way he could withstand my blistering backhands and cat-like clawing. I would slap with passion. With verve. With hysterical screaming and wild gestures.
It must’ve worked, because his status immediately went from “chat” to “offline”. Round 1: Slaphappy Uli TKO over Muscled Chicken.
Round 2 promises to be a doozy, since I’m supposed to attend his class at 5am tomorrow. I can only hope he abides by the rules. My rules.