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Cursed Brazilian Ju Jutsu!! And like a vise that squeezed my neck ...... nerves. With ten days' notice I could not be at full form, but I was there and wanted to make a good match. The opponent, Cristian Rodrigues "Irma" Brazilian black belt in Gracie Barra Nice. I knew that I had to go to the ground, it inevitably ended up in a minute there. After an avalanche of percussion hammer in his face smeared with blood and after my brand new white Sprawl opponent found a way to take me to the ground and directed in a very short time. A total disappointment for my part I have not had the opportunity to to express myself better, but even more sorry to have disappointed my friends come from afar to support me ..... and worst of all .... I have not even a scratch ....

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5 Golden League Golden League 3


was all right, everything seemed to turn the right way the preparation was good and wanted to make a good match. Unfortunately, something has gone as it should. Lovely my opponent, a good boxer, did the only thing he had to do not go to the ground. For my part I was not able to conclude two attempts to throw. Result: reserved a right but the left soon after arriving on time and accurate and opens the eyebrow arch. I feel that the eye is not as it should be and I go to the ground trying to surrender. The left I had created a deep wound and saw that I could no longer maintain the preferred or possible. All this is nothing to add.

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Portrait Survival FC post match


This photo was taken by a photographer after the match against Watford in the UK bangmbala. I was a little dizzy if I won would definitely come better. That night a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions pervaded me, still shudder at the very thought. This is really my sport, my passion. Here the photographer's site
http://www.marcburden.com/

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Golden League Genoa 13/12/2008


was the right night at the end of a wrong time. Microfractures in the hands, tendonitis in his left foot and to make matters worse renal colic 4 days before the match, but I wanted to be there, I had to be there. Two consecutive defeats had dragged my poor morale in the ground. I felt unprepared and have little incentive not satisfied with what I was. Physically, full of infirmities. But the passion, the one that kept me awake night after the gym because every where the pain was felt, acute and disturbing. On the evening of the match for no apparent reason the pain disappeared, I was incredulous and ready to maximum. In a growing feeling of adrenaline approach my time, the last match. My opponent in a French still do not know the name. Luke rubbed me expertly before heating and Pylades with his advice to me from what I was missing is a real motivation. They say my name and feel my music. is the moment, it's my time. The match begins and lasts a few seconds, seconds in which my body did not think it has acted as never before. an animal instinct, pure and aggressive, has reinforced my hand, pouring on my opponent's anger for me until now unknown.