Post by George Duke on Feb 17, 2007 22:44:46 GMT -6
With everything that's riding on this upcoming match, George has been working hard. He's read some books about anatomy and self-defense, he's been training a little bit harder - and today, he's called on a friend for some pointers. Bobby Doyle is an ex-kick boxer and martial arts trainer that works on the far side of Centre City. He's won some awards and done stunt work for movies. George called ahead and explained his situation to his friend. Bob owes George a few favors from over the years - he was more than happy to help out.
The two men stand, clad in sweatpants, on a large blue mat in an empty white room. Sam, the janitor watches on, eager to see someone get hurt. It's one of the perks for cleaning up in a Dojo. They've been going over a few things for about two hours, both men are covered in sweat and about ready to call it a day. Bob has one last thing in mind to show George. He's wisely waited until the end to bring it up.
"Alright, pretend I'm twice your size."
George looks at the 5'10" Krav Maga instructor.
"But you're not..."
"George, do you want to learn or not."
George shrugs.
"Alright, well let's pretend I'm Victor Bloodmoon. I'm like seven feet tall, okay? I charge out you and grab your shoulder..."
Bob grabs George's shoulder.
"I'm about to pick you up and throw you half-way across the Midwest. What do you do?"
"I ram my thumb in your eye and kick you in the balls."
Bob looks frustrated.
"Right... but that will get you disqualified, remember?"
George nods knowingly.
"OK, so what you do is this. reach over with your foot and jam it in the back of my leg. Reach around and pull toward you, kind of like the opposite of kicking."
George reaches around slowly with his foot and places it on the inside of Bob's knee.
"Great. Now - as soon as you do that, take your hand and push forward on my shoulder. Put all of your weight into it. You're going to have to do both at the same time. Bring him in close with your foot and push away with your hand. You'll bend him two different ways and you'll probably tear someone's knee out with it. It'll bring a man of any size right down - I know you have plenty of strength and weight to put into it. Try it real slow on me."
George does a 'dry run' of the hold on Bob, with less than half force. Bob quickly sinks to one knee.
"Alright. That's step one. Remember, when you do this - it's all one swift move. He'll sink right down. Now - once you have him down, you can do a few things. You could lurch forward, and push him right into the mat with you on top. That will do further knee damage and probably knock the wind right out of him, as well. Another thing you can do is ram your shoulder when you do it. Your foot and hand are still in place, so reach over with your free hand and pull his head back. You can do this by the hair, but that might be iffy as far as rules go. You can probably get away with it though. If you do this, you not only increase the knee damage and knock the wind out of his lungs - you might also crush his larynx. Usually, you can't do this - but in the rule book, it's OK. If you used your fist on the throat, it'd be illegal. For some reason, the shoulder is OK. Want to try it all at once?"
George nods. Bob gets to his feet and takes a few steps back. He comes at George. George quickly kicks the knee out from behind and pushes forward. Bob sinks down immediately and shouts with pain. George head butts him before slapping his free hand onto Bob's face. The impact makes a hell of a noise and splits the skin around the nose. George pushes Bob's head to the side and dives in with the shoulder. They crash to the mat. George gets up, but Bob doesn't. Bob lays there, gasping for breath, a small cascade of crimson running from his nose. Duke helps him up to a sitting position and squats down next to him. After a few minutes of gasping and wheezing, Bob calms down and looks at George. He cracks a half smile.
"You prick! You do that to Bloodmoon, you might kill him!"
George grins.
"That's the point, Bob."
"Hell, you should be alright. Do some stuff like that, you'll be fine. Might want to give that a name."
"Already got one. "South Philly Neck Breaker". A good set up for the piledriver and Duke Lock. But there probably won't be much of that with Bloodmoon - too god damn big! This'll cut him down to size, though. Hell, I said it before and I'll say it again. Making me play by the rules might make everyone even worse off than before!"
"Damn straight man. Now get the hell out of here, I think Sam's calling the cops."
Duke is already on his feet and heading for his coat when Bob says this. He grins and waves goodbye before stepping outside into the cold. He pulls his hat down over his ears as he makes his way down the icy city streets back home a few dozen blocks away. A walk in the cold will do him well. When he gets home, he'll divide his time reading and training. George is adding a lot to his arsenal for this match. The sinister smile on his rugged face suggests that me might keep it all, too.
The two men stand, clad in sweatpants, on a large blue mat in an empty white room. Sam, the janitor watches on, eager to see someone get hurt. It's one of the perks for cleaning up in a Dojo. They've been going over a few things for about two hours, both men are covered in sweat and about ready to call it a day. Bob has one last thing in mind to show George. He's wisely waited until the end to bring it up.
"Alright, pretend I'm twice your size."
George looks at the 5'10" Krav Maga instructor.
"But you're not..."
"George, do you want to learn or not."
George shrugs.
"Alright, well let's pretend I'm Victor Bloodmoon. I'm like seven feet tall, okay? I charge out you and grab your shoulder..."
Bob grabs George's shoulder.
"I'm about to pick you up and throw you half-way across the Midwest. What do you do?"
"I ram my thumb in your eye and kick you in the balls."
Bob looks frustrated.
"Right... but that will get you disqualified, remember?"
George nods knowingly.
"OK, so what you do is this. reach over with your foot and jam it in the back of my leg. Reach around and pull toward you, kind of like the opposite of kicking."
George reaches around slowly with his foot and places it on the inside of Bob's knee.
"Great. Now - as soon as you do that, take your hand and push forward on my shoulder. Put all of your weight into it. You're going to have to do both at the same time. Bring him in close with your foot and push away with your hand. You'll bend him two different ways and you'll probably tear someone's knee out with it. It'll bring a man of any size right down - I know you have plenty of strength and weight to put into it. Try it real slow on me."
George does a 'dry run' of the hold on Bob, with less than half force. Bob quickly sinks to one knee.
"Alright. That's step one. Remember, when you do this - it's all one swift move. He'll sink right down. Now - once you have him down, you can do a few things. You could lurch forward, and push him right into the mat with you on top. That will do further knee damage and probably knock the wind right out of him, as well. Another thing you can do is ram your shoulder when you do it. Your foot and hand are still in place, so reach over with your free hand and pull his head back. You can do this by the hair, but that might be iffy as far as rules go. You can probably get away with it though. If you do this, you not only increase the knee damage and knock the wind out of his lungs - you might also crush his larynx. Usually, you can't do this - but in the rule book, it's OK. If you used your fist on the throat, it'd be illegal. For some reason, the shoulder is OK. Want to try it all at once?"
George nods. Bob gets to his feet and takes a few steps back. He comes at George. George quickly kicks the knee out from behind and pushes forward. Bob sinks down immediately and shouts with pain. George head butts him before slapping his free hand onto Bob's face. The impact makes a hell of a noise and splits the skin around the nose. George pushes Bob's head to the side and dives in with the shoulder. They crash to the mat. George gets up, but Bob doesn't. Bob lays there, gasping for breath, a small cascade of crimson running from his nose. Duke helps him up to a sitting position and squats down next to him. After a few minutes of gasping and wheezing, Bob calms down and looks at George. He cracks a half smile.
"You prick! You do that to Bloodmoon, you might kill him!"
George grins.
"That's the point, Bob."
"Hell, you should be alright. Do some stuff like that, you'll be fine. Might want to give that a name."
"Already got one. "South Philly Neck Breaker". A good set up for the piledriver and Duke Lock. But there probably won't be much of that with Bloodmoon - too god damn big! This'll cut him down to size, though. Hell, I said it before and I'll say it again. Making me play by the rules might make everyone even worse off than before!"
"Damn straight man. Now get the hell out of here, I think Sam's calling the cops."
Duke is already on his feet and heading for his coat when Bob says this. He grins and waves goodbye before stepping outside into the cold. He pulls his hat down over his ears as he makes his way down the icy city streets back home a few dozen blocks away. A walk in the cold will do him well. When he gets home, he'll divide his time reading and training. George is adding a lot to his arsenal for this match. The sinister smile on his rugged face suggests that me might keep it all, too.
