Only Love

By Michael Limner

When in East Asia I was exposed to Asian martial arts, fascinated by Muy Thai while on R&R in Bangkok. My father was a sport maven and I had spent many nights sitting on the floor in front of our black and white television set watching American style boxing. Prepubescent, my eldest brother, who claimed to be a golden gloves boxer, tried to teach me boxing techniques. I didn’t like being hit in the face, even with a padded glove. But this Thai fighting with feet, knees, and elbows was a totally different concept to pugilism as I had learned in early youth. My playground school chums would have dubbed it “dirty fighting” and I was enthralled by the concept. Several years after my return home I made the decision to engage in the study of these dirty fighting techniques. I was in the early throes of alcoholism and had no filter between brain and mouth when drunk. I grew tired of getting hit in the face in working men’s bars.

After examining the forms of martial arts available to me I settled on a grappling art. For one reason because every fight I had ever been in had resulted in less fist-to-cuffs and more a struggle to the ground. So joint locks and throws made more