Jorgefighter's blog

I miss destroying.
God, how much I miss it.
I need to squash someone before I get out of my mind.

Hello all

I am really sorry to inform that Domin8 passed away last week. Not the most active wrestler but he always had a smile and a joke to share, and was in general terms a great, funny guy and a very respected videodj.

I spoke with her sister and apparently it was due to a complication during a surgery.

The goal of this information is asking all of you who have his number, if you see this message in time, PLEASE NOT to write him about wrestling things. His family has now that number (I found that sad new after sending him a "how are you" sms) and Xavi was quite secret about the wrestling side of his life.

Thanks, and rest in peace.

Hola a todos:

Lamento informar de que Domin8 falleció la semana pasada. A pesar de no ser el luchador más activo, era un tío simpático y bromista y un videodj bastante afamado, y si tuvisteis trato con él seguro que os hizo reir con sus chorradas.

Parece ser que durante una operación surgió un problema.

Si notifico esto por esta vía, es para pedir a todos aquellos que tengais su número y que leais esto a tiempo que POR FAVOR NO LE ENVÍEIS MENSAJES REFERENTES A COSAS DE LUCHA. Hasta donde yo sé, era un parte que él no compartía con su familia. Sus familiares conservan su número (yo me enteré de esto tras enviarle un mensaje) y probablemente a él no le gustaría que descubriesen estas u otras aficiones de Xavi.

Gracias a todos por leer, y descansa en paz, Xavi.

As longs as his memories arrived, that feeling had always been on him. Maybe a doctor would have helped him to find it, as he didnt know where it came from or what caused it. He only knew it was there and it has always been.

He had always had that secret, dark attraction for strengh and pain, for struggling and domination. Whatever was happening around him, a struggle for domination always grabbed his attention. Perhaps he was reading while the family watched a boring and old western and, suddenly -with the foreseeing of a word pronunced louder than the other or a sudden silence- some alarm rang inside hs head. His body tensed, his eyes slowly slipped from the book and all his senses were centered on the upcoming fight the screen was offering to him. He felt something moving inside of him and a hard to avoid need of being alone. Not only his eyes and ears were anchored to the screen: somehow, he could felt the smell of the men -or women for that matter- struggling, he could savor the blood that splited from a mouth that had just received a punch, he could felt -even tough he had never experienced them... yet- the sweet agony of a well hit fist on the gut. And in these moments he felt more complete and real than when he was swimming in the pages of his books or when he was at the school's playground.

There was no way to share it with the others. The other kids at school most likely would have made fun of him. His family would have made a lots of questions or -even worst- there would no more westerns, no more peplums, no more martial arts movies. No more funny and "Oh, kids will be kids" remarks when he was playing war with his cousins. It was him and his passion. And, while being alone and silent saddened him, he also felt happy having only for him a secret that was such a source of pleasure. He began to think that he was not different, but special and, as the years went by, he began to search the loneliness that before hurted him. He was happier with his feeling and thougs than with the people.

He was going to leave his name in History and do many people happy, but he didnt know yet.

Hey all

My last two matches have been big disasters. One of them was a long match that I was really enjoying... until I found I had damaged my rival's rib. Not in purpose, the ones who know me can credit this, but still the injury was there. The other match took less than one minute. After the guy asked me to show him some moves and I explained how to do a sleeper, he decided to leave. It was non confortable and made me feel bad with myself. And yes: I feel guilty.

In both occassions they were rookies who had very few or none experience. I have been a rookie myself and due to my lack of skills and formal training, I still think of me as one. Problem is: I am not. Even if I never get stand a chance against guys with real training (YOU know who YOU are), I can handle myself in a fight with a medium experienced guy (one who, like me, has only experience in private matches). Not to mention against someone who is trying it for first time.

I still remember my first private match. Sicilia, 1915. I was hot and muscled and had confidence in giving a real match. I didnt. The guy gave me a total pounding, I had pain for a couple of days, and I never stood a chance against him. He simply keep on mandhandling me from one hold to another. And yes: he mocked my muscles saying if they were useful for anything. Any other person with some common sense would have rejected and decided that this was not his thing, but I am not any other person. I am Jorgefighter. (Once in a bar a guy turned to me and called me by this nickname and I started to think that I had gone too far with the wrestling thing, but this is another story).

First meeting is very important. Everybody is curious about fighting and everybody wants to try it. But OH, the reallity. Sweat never smells that good. Punches dont feel that nice in real life, and we often fantasy about being destroyed and dominated by a cruel fighter... until we are. I suspect that facing the reality of pain has made a good amount of potential wrestler leave our small community.

And I dont like that. We need to take more care of rookies. I, in particular, have failed on this, and I cant help but feeling guilty. They need to be introduced gently, and comunication is a must. They will harden themselves with the time, if they like it. I did. I think nowadays I can endure more pain than when I began and go further when it comes to aggressivity, endurance... and we cannot expect the same level from someone who barely sees it as a fetish that wants to try. Making two guys in a row abandon their desire of fighting makes me see a side of me I really dont like. I like taking care of people and being a good host. I think that even with my up and downs I can be considered a good boy. I like playing cars with my nephew, I like cooking for the loved ones. If I was a desperate housewife, I would be Bree van de Kamp. I enjoy taking a wine or beers after a fight and have a nice talk. Checking that I can scare someone is not something I enjoy.

Fighting should be fun, as any sane competition. Yeah, accidents happen sometimes. But when you are the one introducing some other, you are the one in control and you need to be able to handle the situation and make it comfortable and safe. Fight in not only controlling the other, but also controlling yourself.

What a shit that I need to go through experiences like this to learn something that easy.

Happy 2012, brothers in wrestling.

Hi, wrestlers,

To all these of you who make this possible, and to the great friends and rivals I've met thanks to this... And to all the people here, excluding fakes ;-) I wish that 2011 brings peace to your hearts and war to your fists. Have a year full of victories in the mats and in life.