hephaestion2014's blog

Broke it up a bit this time.  Still long. Feel free to skip. 

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Ber er hver að baki nema sér bróður eigi.

The Saga of Grettir, chapter 82

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6

Sitting on the bed in just my towel,I ran a hand through my hair. Still damp. 

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I want to think "not bad" but I notice little things about my body. 

 I wish I had visible abs, but besides being a fuck boys uniform, I know that with  fighting they really give no advantage. Body weight not strength. 

 Vanity. All is Vanity. 

Within half an hour, I'm dressed and walking towards the stones, I was surprised how even in the light of the Half Moon, how bright it was. 

 Certainly Victor couldn't have jumped me from the shadows in this light norw.. 

Nor could the both of us have hiid behind the stones and watch like we had years ago.

I looked up at the stars. I wasn't sure what I had wanted coming back here. But I knew I wanted to experience this place agajn  in the dark bur also watch the sun rise. 

 Good material is how I had rationalised this late night pilgrimage 

John Aubrey had mentioned Orhalder in some of his notes for his Monumenta Britannica.  William Harrison Ainsworth had wrote about attending a boxing match here. That was before all the Queensberry rules. 

 He'd been one of The Fancy to watch the match. 

He'd refereed to it as an evening of pugilistic entertainment- and whilst well attended, it hadn't been strictly legal. 

The contest had started a little before dusk but the entertainment had long continued into the dark.

I let my imagination work a little. 

I tried to conjure how it would have been. 

 The Fancy gathered outside the stone circle ring, looking in. A cross section of society, high and kpw with the same desire to watch two men fight.

 For money. For entertainment.

Being just a note in his writings, there were no records of who fought here or what they looked like. Nor the outcome. Did they fight fair or was there the gouging and kicking thar accompanied such fights at the time?

A fox barking. No. A deer. The sound brought me back to this place and now. I could see it's silhouette run across the fields towards the sea. 

It had been another bare knuckle fight that had brought me back to this place. But no notes in some old writing but a video on YouTube. Not 1800s but more recently.

7

There was a lot of hubbub. Voices drowning each other. Felt more like noise than communication. People talking at, threatening each other.  

The Cameraman. I say Cameraman. More filming mobile phone. His movements are as jerky and disorientating as the voices. But as he swept around taking in the space, I saw the stones. 

 Bod's Knife.

My breath caught in my chest in recognition. And my attention became more focused.

"Fucking end of the world,, " I heard a voice off camera say, " and it's cold as shit. Let's just do this." 

Two men standi facing each other. 

One in his mid twenties, the other early thirties, I'd reckon. The youngest is wearing black shorts and the older is in black trackies. Both shirtless.

Their chest and arms are both muscled but not too much. Its bodies that have been earnt doing physical work and a little gym. They've not been sitting in an office all day chowing down creatine and protein powder and swiping lanyards to get into gyms to replace the lack of honest work. 

There is no muffin top creeping over the waistbands, but there are no six-pack rippling against either. These are bodies used to fighting. 

And they are staring at each other. 

There's a lot of physical distance between them and they each have their own retinue dancing around them squawking like parrots. Chickens. 

But the two Roosters in their shared eye contact shrink the world to just them, psychologically nose to nose in that intense staredown.

There's a lot of noise again from the surrounding camps. So I mute the video. I can fill in my own blanks.

These two guys hate each other. This isn't about competition, or entertainment. This fight is going to be about violence. About doing damage to each other.

"Don't try to fucking take her!" 

Victor's voice came floating through the air. A memory disturbing a memory.. 

For a split second I'm confused as to where I am. No, when I am.

Orhalder is empty. Victor isn't here. Just me alone. And memories. I move further inside the circle to Bod's Knife.  

I touch it open palmed. I notice even in the moonlight, a sole black feather by its base.

***

They're meant to shake hands, bunp fists or something. 

 They don't. They just look at each other and move back a little to create space between them. 

They start to circle each other. 

The rest fall away except one guy in a Man United Football Shirt who seems to be the Referee 

There first few punches are thrown at each other. None connecting. All force and no finesse but keeps the space empty between them. 

Each man moves into that gap, throws a punch, doesn't connect and moves back. It's a frustrating dance for the men as well as the guys watching. 

Suddenly some blows land and they are close together in a clinch. 

Close contact denying the space to throw more powerful punches. 

A few body shots on the older on the younger. 

Younger puts his hand on the older faces. His hands cover the others face pressing hard against his nose and rhe fingers slipping down to the eye socket

Man United Top breaks in and physically pushes them apart. 

He's muted but I can tell from his mouth he's shouting at the younger guy. 

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A Crow caws angrily breaking my reveries. It's objecting to some new presence. I look at the woods separating me from the village. Hiding humanity behind its branches and leaves, which with no detectable breeze appear to be moving. 

I knew when I caught m this movement out of the corner of my eye coming from the woods that it's going to be Eric emerging onto the path and heading towards me and the ring of stones.

So, had my first BJJ lesson the other day. 

After rolling with a few guys who are learning bjj, I felt I could do with getting some knowledge so I can hammer them.

My mate was going so invited me along for an introductory thing. 

 And I hated it.  

But I probably hated it for a lot of the reasons that most of you would enjoy it.

Everyone was really friendly and there was a genuine sense of camaraderie about them all.   

My mate often says that not only does it give him moves, fitness and mental health benefits.  

He has also picked up  "new bros"

That really put me off. 

 And that damn fist bump before each roll gave me the ick.

I'm not a team player. Actually that's not fair. I'm often told that on work reviews that I'm not a team player. 

Which again isn't fair, I'll do whatever I'm asked, or even what is needed without being asked and if someone is struggling, I'll slot in there and help.  

But I don't do the work group chat, I don't socialise outside or inside work- and to be honest, it's lucky we wear name badges or I'd genuinely not know anyone's name. 

It's not that I'm not a team player. I guess I just am not a people person.  If the connection ain't there, I can't fake it.

I think I'm in my villain phase 

It's why I gave up on Rugby as a kid. A

ll that team building really annoyed me and having to be with people I wouldn't chose to be with.

It's why I like combat sports. 

 Because it's just me. 

On my own. 

No team behind me. 

Even the thought of being in a tag team makes me feel trapped.  

So yeah, that wasn't for me. Tried it. Done it.  

Think I'll have to find an unfriendly gym or just learn on my own.

Or if anyone wants to teach me one on one lol