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Abstract

brain.Step down, no leg What’s happened to my knee? Don’t flinch, don’t blink Or my opponent will see.Eyes locked, poker face I must persevere. A moment is lost He steps up a gear.Finding my feet I reset my stance A kick to his ribs Connects . . .Damn! What was that? An explosion of pain A tsunami of shock Smashes into my brain.Lying on the canvas My knee has gone again What the fuck just happened? This fight is insane.Medics take a look Nothing looks broken Ref stands over me Words are spoken:“Do you want to fight on? No legs, hands only?” I nod in agreement This knee won’t own me!My opponent agrees I’m helped to my feet Gloves are touched And our eyes meet.I throw the first punch My knee goes again I manage to stay up But I know it’s the end.A tough pill to swallow That fight was mine God had other plans The end of the line.As I went to deliver that front kick, which started with me raising my left knee, my opponent aimed a low kick towards my left thigh. His knee made a direct strike to the outside of my left knee, causing catastrophic damage to the medial collateral and anterior collateral ligaments, and damaging my meniscus in the process.The meniscus keeps the bones in alignment, and the ligaments hold the structure together. Unfortunately for me, that structure got smashed up, and the impact was so severe that the pain drowned out any sensation of what had happened, so I had no clue why I was in so much pain or why when I tried to

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step down, my knee was bending unnaturally. I had lost all stability.ADDED note: After the initial impact, my opponent moved in on me as I was trying to figure out what had happened to my leg. I regained composure and threw a solid right roundhouse kick to his ribs. As soon as that connected, the left knee collapsed.I told the medics that it felt as though the knee had dislocated. It wasn’t the knee, however, that dislocated but the femur, which had fallen out of position temporarily. When the medics felt around, they couldn’t identify the problem. I agreed to box for the remainder of the fight, the medics took an arm each, and they lifted me up. As soon as I threw a punch, the knee collapsed again, and that was that. It was very upsetting, especially as I was doing this for and in front of my son who was fighting for his life against brain cancer.The road to recovery was slow and painful, but I was determined to make it. After the first year, it looked as though I was going to need an operation to repair the meniscus, which would have meant a lifetime of pain and a knee replacement within a decade. Jumping straight into the knee replacement was no better. I still wouldn’t be able to do the things I love doing. That was the situation in November last year.Six months later, the knee has made a near-miraculous recovery. I am back to full-on training, running, and kicking, and on Friday, I revisited my old kickboxing gym for some pad work.Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Believe in yourself and never give up!British writer</article></body>

Poetry | True Story

Fight On

Believe in yourself and never give up

Pre-fight photo of Martin Morrison taken in 2017

Before I share my poem, let me start by saying that it’s a true story. It was September 2021, and I was in the ring for a full-contact kickboxing fight at the grand age of fifty-one.

My opponent was an 18-year-old MMA fighter who wanted to gain experience as a kickboxer. We were fighting K1-rules, which allow headshots and low kicks.

In the run-up to the fight, my third one since getting into full-contact fighting in 2017, I had put in many hours of one-to-one training with a boxing coach. I’d brought my weight down to 79 kilograms, and I felt more than ready for the bout.

The first round was mine in every way possible. I set the pace, did all the attacking, and landed a variety of techniques. That said, he landed a superb punch that literally forced me backwards by a step.

The second round began pretty much as the first had ended. I opened the dialogue with a front kick to his gut, which I landed with my right foot. The front kick is a good set-up shot, and I should have followed through, but I paused for a moment.

I attempted to do another front kick, but as I tried to deliver the technique, well, I will let the poem tell you the rest:

Damn! What was that? An explosion of pain A tsunami of shock Smashes into my brain.

Step down, no leg What’s happened to my knee? Don’t flinch, don’t blink Or my opponent will see.

Eyes locked, poker face I must persevere. A moment is lost He steps up a gear.

Finding my feet I reset my stance A kick to his ribs Connects . . .

Damn! What was that? An explosion of pain A tsunami of shock Smashes into my brain.

Lying on the canvas My knee has gone again What the fuck just happened? This fight is insane.

Medics take a look Nothing looks broken Ref stands over me Words are spoken:

“Do you want to fight on? No legs, hands only?” I nod in agreement This knee won’t own me!

My opponent agrees I’m helped to my feet Gloves are touched And our eyes meet.

I throw the first punch My knee goes again I manage to stay up But I know it’s the end.

A tough pill to swallow That fight was mine God had other plans The end of the line.

As I went to deliver that front kick, which started with me raising my left knee, my opponent aimed a low kick towards my left thigh. His knee made a direct strike to the outside of my left knee, causing catastrophic damage to the medial collateral and anterior collateral ligaments, and damaging my meniscus in the process.

The meniscus keeps the bones in alignment, and the ligaments hold the structure together. Unfortunately for me, that structure got smashed up, and the impact was so severe that the pain drowned out any sensation of what had happened, so I had no clue why I was in so much pain or why when I tried to step down, my knee was bending unnaturally. I had lost all stability.

ADDED note: After the initial impact, my opponent moved in on me as I was trying to figure out what had happened to my leg. I regained composure and threw a solid right roundhouse kick to his ribs. As soon as that connected, the left knee collapsed.

I told the medics that it felt as though the knee had dislocated. It wasn’t the knee, however, that dislocated but the femur, which had fallen out of position temporarily. When the medics felt around, they couldn’t identify the problem. I agreed to box for the remainder of the fight, the medics took an arm each, and they lifted me up. As soon as I threw a punch, the knee collapsed again, and that was that. It was very upsetting, especially as I was doing this for and in front of my son who was fighting for his life against brain cancer.

The road to recovery was slow and painful, but I was determined to make it. After the first year, it looked as though I was going to need an operation to repair the meniscus, which would have meant a lifetime of pain and a knee replacement within a decade. Jumping straight into the knee replacement was no better. I still wouldn’t be able to do the things I love doing. That was the situation in November last year.

Six months later, the knee has made a near-miraculous recovery. I am back to full-on training, running, and kicking, and on Friday, I revisited my old kickboxing gym for some pad work.

Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Believe in yourself and never give up!

British writer