My MMA journey begins
Hell no, I’m not fighting. Just joining the underground and trying to stay alive.
As I cautiously eased my way through the dimly lit streets of Newburgh, New York and got my first view of the Armory, it looked dark and only a handful of people were evident. I drove up the long driveway and encountered a large security guard directing traffic. I asked if there was an MMA event and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the darkness behind the building. “Back there”, he snapped. Probably should have assumed I wasn’t entering through the front door.
Note: This tale will be told as a bloggish update as I experience the MMA culture from the perspective of a 58 year old WASPy man. My friends and family have my contact information if something goes wrong.
