Sam Sheridan

Bullfight critics, ranked in rows,

Crowd the enormous plaza full.

But only one is there who knows,

And he’s the man that fights the bull.

The prisoner and the fighter must give up some part of what is best in him (since what is best for any human is no more designed for prison—or training—than an animal for the zoo). Sooner or later the fighter recognizes that something in his psyche is paying too much for the training. Boredom is not only deadening his personality but killing his soul.

I could argue that the fear of fighting drove me to fight, but I’m not afraid of being hurt, and the thought of getting knocked out doesn’t faze me. What I am afraid of is being made a fool of, of dishonoring myself.

You have a specific responsibility to existence, to God if you like, to taste, touch, and smell what there is to experience. You have to do everything. If given an option between doing something and not doing it, you have to do it; because you’ve already done the “not do it” part.

Virgil was not interested in free weights and big muscles, he was interested in speed and power and core stability. Power, the grail of boxing, comes from speed, not muscles.

Andre’s training breathed this philosophy throughout. At the NovaCare rehab center in Castro Valley we did the Acceleration program, which was a lot of sprinting on a frighteningly steep treadmill. Amateur boxing goes for four two-minute rounds, so it’s very quick and explosive; a two-minute round can go by in a heartbeat. Sprinting builds up that short-term endurance and, most important, quick recovery time, that oxygen-debt relief between rounds. Afterward we did some medicine ball throwing for core strength and explosiveness, and shoulder stability drills. We didn’t even look at free weights, although Andre has done them in the past to build strength.

On alternate days there was Pilates in a clean, upscale gym on pretty wooden machines, again focusing on the core and shoulder strength and stability. Virgil discovered Pilates himself when he was rehabbing an injury, did some research, and found out that its creator had been a boxer. I was slightly skeptical, but Andre had been at it for eight weeks, and he said it had made a big difference in his strength and flexibility.

I thought about what Brandon and I had talked about at length on the drive home from Cincinnati, the meaning of clout. It’s not really about the admiration or respect of others; it’s about self-respect. We have an innate hatred of fear, and we climb into the cage and prove to ourselves that it is nothing to be afraid of. Even this extreme situation, this death match in a cage in front of screaming fans, is nothing to be afraid of.

The wrestling takedown is an essential ingredient of the ground game because it is a way to control the fight and end up on the ground in a better position, on top. A main reason American wrestlers have been so good at vale tudo is their powerful takedown ability, learned from a young age.

There is a Brazilian word, malandro, that conveys something of the essence of a crook but also of someone who turns a disadvantage, a potential setback, into an advantage.

I ask: What’s the most important aspect of the ground game? What’s the key to ground fighting? What should I focus on? The answer, when it comes from Zé or Murilo, is enlightening: humility. Always assume that your opponent is better than you, that he knows more—you have to work harder in training and learn more. You know only 5 percent of what there is to know. Fight your own pride and ego and be open-minded and always learning new techniques, new things from anyone.