Sunday, June 30, 2013

Antonino Rocca

I found this book in an old bookstore while I was in college.

I had to get it. A book about self defense written by a professional wrestler. I would never be able to live with myself if I'd passed it up.

Back in high school I wanted to become a pro wrestler when I grew up. My brother and I tried out for it at Regency Boxing. There was an independent wrestling group who trained there and they had a wrestling ring with the big turnbuckles and bouncy (it's not that bouncy) floor and everything. I was in pretty good shape at the time but this is going back at least 13 or 14 years and that summer included a lot more drinking and smoking weed than working out. That tryout was without a doubt the hardest workout I've ever done.

It started out with squats. Just bodyweight and flat-footed but an absolute shitload of them. And everybody's head had to be moving up and down at the same time. It was important to instill a team mentality. If one person fucked up, everybody had to freeze in the half-squat position for a period of time that felt like forever and then the whole group had to start over from the beginning. Then it was the same thing with push ups, then crunches, and then an assortment of other calisthenics. The whole time we were getting yelled at by a coach who acted like a drill instructor and he would ask you questions that he had told you the answers to before you started so if you couldn't answer him it meant everybody had to start over from the beginning. After that it was into the ring to learn "bumps" or falls. By the time you got into the ring you were exhausted but you were expected to pick up the breakfalling techniques right away. There was no time for anybody to be lagging behind, if you weren't up to par with everybody else right from the get-go you were out.

When all was said and done we were told that the actual tryout date had been a week before and they weren't looking for anybody else at that time. What the fuck?! They put us through all this bullshit for nothing! We even had to sign their fucking waivers that might as well have said they could throw us in traffic if they wanted to. We both ended up sick as dogs and more sore than I know I've ever been before or since for at least a week afterward.

Our tag team name was going to be The Steel City Slammers because we were from Hamilton and my name was going to be Redneck Rage. I can't remember what my brother was going to call himself but that was it anyway. The dream was over. Looking back on it now, there were other places we could have gone to. Other independent local federations that were nowhere near as strict and we still went to all the indy shows that would play around the area, but both of us had been crushed and neither of us ever tried out for any "rasslin'" federations again. Oh well. I got to act out some of that dream when I was on Wipeout anyway.

Back to the point though. Antonino Rocca's book up there is actually pretty good. It's definitely no worse than any other book of it's kind. The first half of it is devoted to different bodyweight exercises for the various parts of the body and they all range from easy to being pretty challenging. The second half is a lot like any of the Bruce Lee's Fighting Method books. Picture sequences featuring someone getting attacked and then effortlessly dispatching his or her assailant(s) using a variety of techniques. Some of them are Rocca beating up one or two guys. Some of them are a woman beating up Rocca. It's a fun book anyway and worth reading if you can find it anywhere cheap.

I might have paid $10 for it, I don't remember. I wouldn't pay much more than $20 though. Not unless you're an extreme old school wrestling or fitness buff and want it as a collector's item. As far as educational value goes, it's fun but it's not fantastic. That being said though, you would get what you put into it. A person with enough drive in them could definitely use the exercises in it to push themselves to an excellent level of fitness and strength. As far as the self defense stuff, well, if you want to try any of it go ahead.

Fuck, how could you not want to learn self defense from this guy?
That's a pretty serious neck and those are definitely not the ears of a man who has never been in a fight before.
The guy even kicked the shit out of Superman once. It doesn't get much tougher than that.
Guarantee she tried to get in his pants after this. It works every time.

There are plenty of his matches on Youtube but none of them will post for me right now. Fuckin' Youtube.

Horses are idiots

I'm glad nobody feels sorry for horses like so many people do for dolphins, whales or pandas. Horses are idiots. We humans have enslaved the horse. We make them carry us around, pull stuff for us, run really fast, it's great. And none of it is cruel because horses don't have feelings so they don't mind at all.

 I'll punch a horse right in the face.


Monday, June 24, 2013

My dad can beat up your dad!

"My dad can beat up your dad!"

Remember when kids used to taunt each other with sayings like that? I used to find the above statement absolutely hilarious. Maybe it's because my dad didn't live with me growing up so I just didn't have the same kind of pride projected on him that other kids had on their dads. Or maybe it's because my dad was so old that it just never occurred to me that he could beat up anybody.

That's him holding my oldest daughter (she's eight now) with my brother and me in the background. I think he was 79 at the time. He died shortly after his 80th birthday. My brother is, I believe, four years younger than I am and we're the youngest and second youngest of 11.

Apparently my dad was quite the scrapper in his day, growing up in various orphanages and foster homes in Nova Scotia and doing manual labour jobs most of his life. He actually had a lot of interesting stories that I may or may not save for another post someday. But you can deduce from the above picture that his fighting days were clearly well before my time. I do remember him hitting me with his cane once. He was like a fencer with that cane when he wanted to be.

Anyway, I was thinking earlier today that I wonder if kids even use that expression anymore, "My dad can beat up your dad." First of all, how many kids even have "dads" anymore? The survey I live in is mostly single moms who are on welfare. I could count on one hand the number of dads I've seen around here and I know I'm the only one with a job. Secondly, how many kids' dads these days even invoke the kind of manliness that would make their children think they can even fight, never mind beat anyone up?

What will become the equivalent of "My dad can beat up your dad" in the future?
A few possibilities might be:

My dad's watched more UFC than your dad!
My dad would P\/\/N3d your dad at Call Of Duty! (face to face conflict on the schoolyard will be a thing of the past. All arguments will most likely be texted)
My dad's meme posts get more Likes than your dad's!
My dad's vlog get's more hits than your dad's!
My dad has more Twitter followers than your dad!
My dad can memorise more song titles than your dad!
My dad's more of a geek than your dad!

Fuck all that. I might just start encouraging my kids to tell all their schoolmates that their dad can beat up anybody else' dad. What's the worst that can happen? Some drunk welfare bum shows up on my porch one night looking to get knocked out? Like I give a fuck.

The Dad Who Beats Up Other Dads
And his cardio is fucking solid too
The dad who buries women in the ground and then stands on them
The dad who will hook a goat right in the face
The dad who picks up barrels and carries them around in the bar
All other dads pale in comparison
Somebody else' dad

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Mudcat Festival Strongman Contest 2013

So yesterday I did the strongman contest at the Mudcat Festival in Dunnville. I've been doing this contest every year for more than 10 years now and I've managed to place in the top three every year. I'm always really nervous about it and have butterflies in my stomach for at least a week before. Because I've always done so well, I feel a lot of pressure to keep winning because I know that sooner or later that year is going to come when I'm not going to win. I'm always worried that I haven't trained enough or that I'm getting too old. I turned 35 just over a week ago. I tell myself that I do this for fun, and I do, but fuck if I don't love bringing home trophies.

First event yesterday was a deadlift lockout and hold for time.
The weight on the bar was only 275 for my weight class (I was a middleweight at 176 lbs). I was yelling at the crowd during this, trying to get some excitement going but to be honest, I can see how this is not exactly the most exciting event to watch. Especially with such a light weight on the bar. In any case my performance in this event was nothing short of abysmal. I was expecting to dominate it since I've been doing so much thick bar work recently but a little bit after a minute the index finger of my left hand gave out. Fuck. To say I was disappointed is a huge understatement. What bothers me even more is that I had considered using a hook grip but then decided against it at the last minute, thinking it unnecessary. The superheavyweights later on used 455, which I picked up easily using a hook grip and held onto for a pretty good time but it didn't count for shit. I just felt like I needed to redeem myself.

The next event was the overhead press, which I've always done fairly well at. I got 11 reps with 185 in 60 seconds.
I managed 15 reps with that same weight three years ago but, whatever. I was just happy I got any at all. The most I've gotten overhead on my fat bar this year is 170 for a single. I need to get serious about my overhead lifting again.

Again, I attempted the weights for the heavier weight classes just to see for myself if I could still do it. Doing this doesn't earn me any extra points or anything but it's fun and helps me keep my adrenaline going throughout the day.
The 225 was actually cleaned from the ground, which is why my hat fell off, but my wife didn't get the camera going in time to catch it. When I do shit like this I have to hurry in there quickly before they start stripping the weights off so there isn't time for me to say "Hey, honey, get ready to film this!" Felt pretty good though. But yeah, my overhead definitely needs work as it has clearly gone downhill in recent years. Not by much, mind you, but enough that I'm no longer happy with it where it is.

Third event was the Medley. Now this was fun!

While I was doing it, that car felt really slow, particularly at the end when it was stuck up on its side there. I wondered if it was actually going to go over. Thankfully it did. I would have felt like shit giving up on it at that point.

And the final event was the Truck Pull. This year's truck was the heaviest I've ever pulled. I think somebody said 48,000 lbs but I have no idea what it actually weighed. It was fucking heavy though. I told my brother that I would do pushups after diving for the line. I was hoping to get 100 but got nowhere even close. This truck was really hard to get moving and I think I let go of the rope a bit too early. Truck pulling is always a fun event though.

So all in all, despite a few personal disappointments and realisations that certain areas need a shitload of work (grip and overhead) I had an awesome time and can't wait to do it again.

I won First Place in the middleweight division and my brother won First Place in the heavyweight division. It might not look like it but yes, he's quite a bit heavier than me. I'm a lot lighter than most people think though. People tend to assume that I'm over 200 lbs but I never have been. Not even with my work boots on.

And I'm going to admit that posting this one is just purely self-indulgence. To be perfectly honest, unless I'm looking at pictures like this I have no idea that I'm that ripped. When I look in the mirror, the guy in this picture is not who I see so, yeah, I think it's fucking cool that I actually look like that. I won't forever so I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

So there it is. Another trophy for the shelf and now it's time to start training for the next one.

Thursday, June 6, 2013


This is Blue Lucas. Blue Lucas is a goof.

Here's a link to his facebook profile:

And here's a link to the news report about him crawling into the bedroom window of a 12-year-old girl and sexually molesting her:

Sentenced to 18 months. 12 of those months suspended. That meant only six months left for him to serve which he probably did in protective custody the whole time because that's where they keeps goofs inside. With "good behavior" he'd have only done a third of that which would have seen him back on the streets in just two months.

In any case, the news story is from August of 2012 so he's out now. Hiding somewhere. Once a goof always a goof. This piece of shit could attack anyone else' daughter at any time. Now you know who he is. Hopefully soon everybody knows.

Sunday, June 2, 2013


I like this video. My guess is that no one will show up though. Pussies need to believe that everyone bigger than them is on steroids. It's funny that the "Steroid Standard" keeps getting lower and lower too. Back in the 90s it was accepted that anyone (ANYONE!) who worked hard enough could acheive a 405 squat, 315 bench press and 495 deadlift without needing to use steroids. Now you're lucky to half squat three plates without some potbellied toothpick couch potato whining about how he could do it too if only he had your genetics and drugs.

 Do couch potatos even exist anymore? They're more likely to be hunched over a laptop than laying on a couch nowadays. We need to come up with a more modernised term.

 I weighed 135 lbs when I first started lifting weights. I've been getting accused of being on steroids ever since I made it to 140. That's how fuckin' awesome I am!

 Here's something I can't stand and don't even begin to understand. Why the fuck do modern barbell plates have handles molded into them? All it does is fuck everything up. If you can't lift 45 lbs fuck off. This is not the right hobby for you. Weight lifting is the one and only athletic endeavor that caters to the people who suck at it. And what's worse, these pieces of shit don't even enjoy it and they're the majority. Bitch all the time about how much they hate the gym, how hard it is and how everybody else must be on steroids and have superhuman genetics.

 There's a whole other line of stupid right there. I used to get beat up because of my "genetics." Now everybody wishes they had them because apparently I was just born ridiculously awesome. Fuck you!

 And fuck Planet Fitness too. That's not even a gym, it's a social support group for the physically retarded. Have you ever felt like you were being watched in the gym? Like everybody there was looking at you and judging you? There's a good 99.9% chance you were wrong. Nobody else gives a flying fuck what you're doing in there. Nobody but me. I was watching you and you suck! You should be ashamed of yourself. You're lucky I didn't skewer you with a barbell and lunge you around. I am the villian Planet Fitness was made for.
Here's me during my visit to Planet Fitness.
I wonder if I'll set off the Lunk Alarm.