The Marlin
Photo by Josh Russell
“Friday Fucking Fight
Night is back!” yells the late-night instructor.
I had just gone seven
5-minute rounds, with each new partner starting from mount. I’ve been swimming
in deep water lately to work on escaping when I’m tired in a bad spot. My ears
fill to the rim with sweat from my partner’s top pressure. Now they’re being
pulled from the crossface he’s working.
Friday Fucking Fight
Night is exactly what it sounds like: rolling for an hour straight. Most of us
were at the previous class and have been on the mats for 40 minutes already. We
are all soaked with sweat, since there is no A/C. Most of us are pretty damn
tired; this is our third or fourth training session of the day.
It’s also common for
people to show up late just to spar, maybe after getting off work late. The
worst is when you’re lying in a puddle of sweat so large it would look like a
murder scene were it dyed red, and a fresh, hungry marlin asks for a roll. White
Belt Fury triggered.
The Marlin takes mount on
me, the timer sounds and my next round begins.
Instantly, he cracks me
in the face with a left hand. I feel my under-bite gash my lower lip open like
a serrated shark tooth. Iron from my blood is all I can taste.
I keep my elbows tight
and my chin tucked to my shoulder, slowly starting to work my escape. I’m not
looking to power my way out. The purpose of your opponent starting on mount is
to sharpen my escape techniques. He’s not having it, and I take an accidental
but still very hard shot to the top of my head from his right hand.
I hope you broke your
fucking hand this time, I think to myself.
I stay calm and find my
door to escape. His White Belt Fury is rising. I frame on his right knee
and scoot my hips out when I’m nailed with another hard crossface to my right
side. More blood fills my mouth.
By this point, I’m
definitely sick of letting him have his way with me. So I trap his left arm,
circle my right leg around to trap his left leg from posting and bridge my hips
to reverse the position.
Then my left calf and the
right side of my neck cramp up simultaneously. My elbows are tight to my body
while my hands control frame his hips. In one swift motion, my right knee finds
the middle of his backside, and I point my hips 40-degrees to line my left leg
up to step back. My right hand continues to control his hip so he can’t crunch
up. My left finds his right knee, where I crunch to my right to straighten my
left arm. His legs pop open instantly, and I pass his guard to side control
easily.
The fury is strong is
this one. I feel like I’m deep sea fishing, and I just got the marlin up on the
deck of the boat. He’s flopping and popping in side control trying to find his
way back into the ocean.
I slide my right knee to
his belly and control the back of his head. I’ve just gaffed the marlin. He
doesn’t like the pressure from my knee (my gaff) and makes the mistake of
trying to push it off of his belly. In one quick motion, I under-hook his
exposed elbow and bring it tight to my chest. I rotate my hips around his body,
secure my feet placement and slowly rise my hips toward the ceiling.
The Marlin tries his best
to wiggle free, to pop the line, but I have proper control. Gradually, I apply
enough pressure with my hips behind his elbow to secure a tap. We both sit up
and slap hands and thank each other. I glance up at the timer. We have just
under three minutes left in the round. I tap my chest. Mount me.
When you’re rolling with
you training partners, what type of grappler are you? Are you the partner who
deliberately works on a certain technique? Just looking for a flow roll?
Or are you the Marlin?
Let us know, comment
below.
Rome Lytton IV
Rome is a world traveler who thrives living a nomadic lifestyle. He spent the last eight years exploring southeast Asia and was promoted to black belt by Dan “Imal” Reid. If you see him on the side of the road with his thumb out, trust the good vibes.
