Falling off the map bluesDecember 28th, 2012 by Joshua Scott Beranis
Dimming the lights, turning up some Robert Johnson on the
stereo, and brewing a fine cup of coffee, I look to an empty
note-pad and an unsharpened pencil on the clean kitchen table. I
see my slight reflection in the window and consider the wet cold of
Washington winter outside. The coffee-maker crackles, and I
remember that I love that sound. I love that smell, like nothing
else on earth, that fresh coffee smell.
Then there is the smell of pencil-shavings, an extra dusty sawdust scent that tickles your lungs a bit. I push a steak-knife to the unexposed graphite tip with my thumb, careful to slant the knife edge back up as I widdle out a dull point.
For a year now, I have contemplated the conditions leading up to two men entering the sanctioned cage. I came into this field completely mesmorized and overwhelmed. Other things have also come to mind, not all of which can be put into a format comparible to that technical one we would approach MMA with.
Maturity, and what that means, a thought which even bothers me a bit now. We can’t all be mature, but it would be a good idea to at least appear somewhat sane or intelligent. This is especially the case with writing about MMA, following people around asking them questions, pestering them for information when half of them could kill you with their bare hands. Don’t be stupid.
Also, how to write about the people regardless of the sport, is something which has moved me deeply. I have realized that even those at the highest pinnacle of cage-fighting competition face many of the obstacles and traps the rest of us are so familiar with. There is an underlying drive not just to achieve temporary victory, but to achieve a longer standing position of honorability which we can take further comfort in. We want our name to be worthy of the objects it will be etched upon. We are forever planting seeds, hoping for favorable outcomes.
Following suit, I too, find myself flesh and bone, trying not to fall off the map.