SLC - Day 4
It's my second and final day with Billy. I'm picked up at the same time as yesterday and we train for a little longer than we did the day before. Like I said previously, describing training is never fun, so instead I want to write about Billy, because he's a character and he made a lasting impression on him.
I must have talked his cauliflower ears off over the weekend. Asking him every question I could manage. "Do you have any stories about Verne Gagne, Billy?" "Have you ever met Danny Hodge?" "Do you still speak to the Destroyer?" Honestly I would've been happy listening to him talk for a weekend, I'm just not sure if he'd have the patience to answer every question a twenty year old could think up about All Japan Pro Wrestling, though. That doesn't mean to say he didn't have stories. He had plently and gladly indulged me in my curiosity. Although the thing that stands out most about Billy, is that he's funny. He can make you laugh with a story or a phrase, my favourite of the the whole weekend being "grab the bastard, I mean the opponent and..." It was nice to meet someone you look up to and actually find they don't ruin the image that's built up in your head. He was a gravelly voiced coach who knew so much about his sport and how to teach it. It's all I could've asked for. The fact he was so gracious in showing me his actual signature moves was move than I could've asked for.
It was only at the end of the day that everything really hit home for me. We were spending the last hour or so focusing on the double wrist lock. The first catch wrestling move I ever saw and the signature hold of my hero Kazushi Sakuraba. At one point Billy used me as a dumby to explain the finer points in the application and it was only as I was getting back to my feet I realised that a few years ago I was watching Billy Robinson teach that hold and mention how his "boy Sakuraba beat the Gracies with it," and now here I was having the same man apply that hold to me. It felt like a fitting end to the weekend and motivation for me to continue training hard.
Billy made sure we all had his email address and number incase we needed his advice or just wanted to contact him. He made sure I had a spare buisness card for me to hand to my coach, Roy, back in Wigan. Although as I write this I still haven't messaged him. I think I'm still looking for something meaningful to ask him (you never want to come across like the village idiot to someone you respect, do you?). I'm sure I'll think of something. If not, you can never say "thank you" too many times, can you?
Although this was a short one the next post will be much longer as it's the final one of the SLC series. We'll cover what I did after training that day, how I spent my final full day in America, and the trip back home. Amatuer food reviews aplenty.
Jack G.
Saturday 26 February 2011
Sunday 13 February 2011
SLC Volume 3: Jack Gallagher vs. The Double Underhook Suplex
SLC - Day 3
I wake up early because there's no chance in hell I'm waking up late today. Go through the motions of getting breakfast, mailing friends and family to keep them updated, and exercising, before I'm out infront of the hotel waiting to be picked up. I'm about half way through Hey Jude by the time the van rolls up.
"Jack?"
"Yeah."
"Hop on in."
From the videos I've seen online I know it's Jake. I jump into the backseat with two other guys who're planning on training this weekend. We get the introductions out of the way before settling into some wrestling related banter. We're only talking for a few minutes before the person in the passengers seat speaks and I nearly jump out of my skin when he does. It's Billy. He has a very distinctive voice so there was no mistaking him. I didn't even realise he was in the car because as I was picked up, I looked past him to speak to Jake. Luckily I didn't jump out of my skin, or in my seat. We make it to the gym shortly after, get changed, and wait for training to begin. The first day is going to be based around stand up wrestling. In other words, taking the opponent down to the floor as well as getting back to your feet from the ground. After one or two familiar moves, we get into some not so familiar territory. This training was worth the travel.
We break around the three hour mark to eat lunch and note down what we'd gone over (because the camp was more about introducing you to the moves and you drill them at a later date, that way we covered more ground with the same amount of time). It's during this time Billy comes up to me and tells me to grab a partner so he can teach me a move that might've been worth this whole trip alone, the double underhook suplex. For anyone not familiar with wrestling, why are you reading a blog entitled Grapple Days? (I'm kidding, please keep reading) No, for people who aren't so acquainted with wrestling, the double underhook suplex is Billy's signature move. His "finisher," to use the modern vernacular. Taught to him by an Greco-Roman wrestling gold medalist, who actually used the throw to win the gold medal. Needless to say, there's a pedigree to this move and I was so appreciative to be shown it because I'd mentioned it to Billy in passing, and never thought twice that he'd actually teach how to do it. I get my hands in the right position, step in, and over the guy goes. Okay, that felt too easy for me to be doing it right. Billy says that's it, but he got it as good as he did because he drilled it for a week, on all different body types, tall guys, short guys, wide guys, thin guys, etc. Just that move, over and over for a week straight, and if I want to get good at it, I'm going to have to practise it in a similar fashion. I make a mental note of that for when I get back to England, and ask "Billy, what's the heaviest I should be looking at to suplex?"
"About twice your bodyweight," he says. Okay, that's over three hundred pounds... no wonder the suplex felt so easy on someone my own weight.
After being taught two more, equally nice, new suplexs, we're back in the full group and going over more moves. Honestly, me trying to describe and breakdown why this training was good, will become tedious and unreadable, so you'll have to take my word for it. It was very good training.
I'd done about 8 to 9 hours of training by the time we wrapped up the first day. I made an arrangement to hang out with a couple of the guys and got drove back to the hotel. I'm tired, primarily because I woke up earlier than usual and I'd been lacking a source of coffee all day. I flick the coffee maker in my room on and jump into a much needed shower. Clean and armed with caffine I sit at the table by the door and begin to write up notes from today. I fell asleep on the table after the first page.
I wake up to a knock at my door. Thank god I got dressed after my shower. It's the guys from training. We head out and look downtown for somewhere to eat, which ment we walked around looking for a place that does good ribs, quit, and went to the nearest place that sold something appealing. Over chinese food and sandwiches, I acted like the moron of a tourist I'd become these last few days and asked how much exactly is a dime (because there's no number on a dime to actually tell you how much it's worth. It's not like a quarter, where it's obviously a quarter of a dollar). My ignorance was not taunted but it did lead us onto all the other uses of dime in American slang, which brought us to British slang and swears too. I'd just like to state now, that cockney rhyming slang is hilarious when you have to explain the concept out loud.
"So, you rhyme what you mean with something else. Dog and bone becomes phone, right? But only dog and bone can mean phone, you can't just rhyme phone with anything."
What kind of country comes up with a concept like that?
In the next post it's back to the mats with Billy for some ground work.
Jack G.
I wake up early because there's no chance in hell I'm waking up late today. Go through the motions of getting breakfast, mailing friends and family to keep them updated, and exercising, before I'm out infront of the hotel waiting to be picked up. I'm about half way through Hey Jude by the time the van rolls up.
"Jack?"
"Yeah."
"Hop on in."
From the videos I've seen online I know it's Jake. I jump into the backseat with two other guys who're planning on training this weekend. We get the introductions out of the way before settling into some wrestling related banter. We're only talking for a few minutes before the person in the passengers seat speaks and I nearly jump out of my skin when he does. It's Billy. He has a very distinctive voice so there was no mistaking him. I didn't even realise he was in the car because as I was picked up, I looked past him to speak to Jake. Luckily I didn't jump out of my skin, or in my seat. We make it to the gym shortly after, get changed, and wait for training to begin. The first day is going to be based around stand up wrestling. In other words, taking the opponent down to the floor as well as getting back to your feet from the ground. After one or two familiar moves, we get into some not so familiar territory. This training was worth the travel.
We break around the three hour mark to eat lunch and note down what we'd gone over (because the camp was more about introducing you to the moves and you drill them at a later date, that way we covered more ground with the same amount of time). It's during this time Billy comes up to me and tells me to grab a partner so he can teach me a move that might've been worth this whole trip alone, the double underhook suplex. For anyone not familiar with wrestling, why are you reading a blog entitled Grapple Days? (I'm kidding, please keep reading) No, for people who aren't so acquainted with wrestling, the double underhook suplex is Billy's signature move. His "finisher," to use the modern vernacular. Taught to him by an Greco-Roman wrestling gold medalist, who actually used the throw to win the gold medal. Needless to say, there's a pedigree to this move and I was so appreciative to be shown it because I'd mentioned it to Billy in passing, and never thought twice that he'd actually teach how to do it. I get my hands in the right position, step in, and over the guy goes. Okay, that felt too easy for me to be doing it right. Billy says that's it, but he got it as good as he did because he drilled it for a week, on all different body types, tall guys, short guys, wide guys, thin guys, etc. Just that move, over and over for a week straight, and if I want to get good at it, I'm going to have to practise it in a similar fashion. I make a mental note of that for when I get back to England, and ask "Billy, what's the heaviest I should be looking at to suplex?"
"About twice your bodyweight," he says. Okay, that's over three hundred pounds... no wonder the suplex felt so easy on someone my own weight.
After being taught two more, equally nice, new suplexs, we're back in the full group and going over more moves. Honestly, me trying to describe and breakdown why this training was good, will become tedious and unreadable, so you'll have to take my word for it. It was very good training.
I'd done about 8 to 9 hours of training by the time we wrapped up the first day. I made an arrangement to hang out with a couple of the guys and got drove back to the hotel. I'm tired, primarily because I woke up earlier than usual and I'd been lacking a source of coffee all day. I flick the coffee maker in my room on and jump into a much needed shower. Clean and armed with caffine I sit at the table by the door and begin to write up notes from today. I fell asleep on the table after the first page.
I wake up to a knock at my door. Thank god I got dressed after my shower. It's the guys from training. We head out and look downtown for somewhere to eat, which ment we walked around looking for a place that does good ribs, quit, and went to the nearest place that sold something appealing. Over chinese food and sandwiches, I acted like the moron of a tourist I'd become these last few days and asked how much exactly is a dime (because there's no number on a dime to actually tell you how much it's worth. It's not like a quarter, where it's obviously a quarter of a dollar). My ignorance was not taunted but it did lead us onto all the other uses of dime in American slang, which brought us to British slang and swears too. I'd just like to state now, that cockney rhyming slang is hilarious when you have to explain the concept out loud.
"So, you rhyme what you mean with something else. Dog and bone becomes phone, right? But only dog and bone can mean phone, you can't just rhyme phone with anything."
What kind of country comes up with a concept like that?
In the next post it's back to the mats with Billy for some ground work.
Jack G.
SLC Volume 2: Jack Gallagher vs. The Sushi
SLC - Day 2
"This isn't my bed. Oh yeah, I'm in America. Weird."
It's about half seven in the morning and, as per usual, I'm hungry. I remember that the hotel did a free breakfast until eleven, so I swing myself out of bed, slip on my jeans and go out to see if anything decent was on offer. There was. The breakfast consisted of a humble range of breads, bagels, coffee, fruits, and juices. I grab abit of everything I pull out my mental to do list. First I had to contact my parents and let them know I'm safe (because my mobile doesn't work internationally and I couldn't figure out how to make the pay phones call Manchester either), second I had to get a general idea of what was within walking distance of my hotel i.e. food, and finally, I had to make a phone call to Jake Shannon, the guy who ran scientificwrestling.com, and double check all the details for training tomorrow.
After something whole grain, I slipped into the lobby to see if I could use the computer set up there. Somebody was already on it. Great. So rather than stand there, staring at the guy at the guy like a stalker, I figured I'd just head out and see what kind of food I'd be living on this week. My first impression was alot of fast food. I'd walked up the main road, for about twenty minutes, to see what shops there were and apart from the numberous fast food places there was a dollar store and everything else was car centric. Everything apart from one 7-11. Which ment there was one place I could use to stock my fridge (I made sure to get a room with a fridge). I grabbed some supplies and trekked back through the snow to the lobby to see if the computer had freed up. Oh yeah, snow. I'd traveled hundreds of miles from a land whose weather consisted of regular showers and cold temperatures, to one that I had assumed would be a little warmer. It turns out Salt Lake City was just as cold as England, but they have snow instead of rain. Anyway, I got back to the lobby and used the now free computer to tell everyone not to worry and to reframe from planning the funeral.
Back in my room to stock the fridge and finish my up with my to do list. Double check training is still happening (because I'm always paranoid of things being elaborate practical jokes) and how I'm getting there. "Yeah we'll pick you up from *such and such a time* in the morning. Your hotel is on the way to Billy's," says the voice down the phone. "That's cool," I think "I'll be able to meet the man himself before we have to train." Sorted. Actually a problem did develop. With my to do list done, I had nothing to do (obviously) until tomorrow and I had plenty of the day left. Then again I'd yet to look downtown. I'd walked up and down the main road but I hadn't ventured into downtown yet because the bridge, that would've ment it was a straight walk, wasn't there and I'm not the best at finding my own way. It's always best if I get directions first and a map. I got both and set off.
I won't bore you with the what essentially me browsing shops for a couple of hours, instead it's time to introduce a new section to these blogs:
The Adventures of Super Sushi Boy
Yeah, I like sushi. Scratch that. I love sushi. It's easily my favourite food on the planet. So when I saw there were a bunch of japanese restaurants in SLC I knew where I'd be eating every night.
In Manchester visited I've pretty much every japanese restaurant there is, so I'm a pretty decent judge of the stuff even if it is only in comparison to my hometown favourites. So let's get ready for:
Manchester vs. SLC *Round 1*
Representing the Salt Lake, in this round, will be the Happy Sumo. The contest will be fought with nine pieces of spicy tuna and a miso soup.
The first restaurant of the trip was a good one. You could sit and watch the food being prepared at the bar, or attempt to distract yourself with the sports channel. Since watching the sports would've been like attempting to understand japanese, I decided to focus more of the food infront of me.
First up was the miso soup, and it was in a very friendly sized bowl, meaning large, which automatically gained the place some points. That, and the soup being really good, ment the Happy Sumo was off to a good start. The problem was the tuna wasn't anything special. It tasted good, nay great, but then again all sushi tastes great to me, so the main meal didn't really stand out. Where Salt Lake fell short though, was in the lack of inarizushi and red bean mochi.
Inarizushi is sushi rice wrapped in fried tofu and it's a must for any sushi place because it is nothing short of amazing. Something else that equals amazing is mochi. Mochi is a rice cake that can be filled with numberous things to add flavour, red bean paste being the best. With both of these key components of anyones sushi experience missing, I'm giving this round to Manchester.
I pay my bill and head back to what had quickly become a home for me. I'd decided the best way to spend the rest of my day was reading and day dreaming about double underhook suplexs.
In the next post I finally meet the man himself, Billy Robinson
Jack G.
"This isn't my bed. Oh yeah, I'm in America. Weird."
It's about half seven in the morning and, as per usual, I'm hungry. I remember that the hotel did a free breakfast until eleven, so I swing myself out of bed, slip on my jeans and go out to see if anything decent was on offer. There was. The breakfast consisted of a humble range of breads, bagels, coffee, fruits, and juices. I grab abit of everything I pull out my mental to do list. First I had to contact my parents and let them know I'm safe (because my mobile doesn't work internationally and I couldn't figure out how to make the pay phones call Manchester either), second I had to get a general idea of what was within walking distance of my hotel i.e. food, and finally, I had to make a phone call to Jake Shannon, the guy who ran scientificwrestling.com, and double check all the details for training tomorrow.
After something whole grain, I slipped into the lobby to see if I could use the computer set up there. Somebody was already on it. Great. So rather than stand there, staring at the guy at the guy like a stalker, I figured I'd just head out and see what kind of food I'd be living on this week. My first impression was alot of fast food. I'd walked up the main road, for about twenty minutes, to see what shops there were and apart from the numberous fast food places there was a dollar store and everything else was car centric. Everything apart from one 7-11. Which ment there was one place I could use to stock my fridge (I made sure to get a room with a fridge). I grabbed some supplies and trekked back through the snow to the lobby to see if the computer had freed up. Oh yeah, snow. I'd traveled hundreds of miles from a land whose weather consisted of regular showers and cold temperatures, to one that I had assumed would be a little warmer. It turns out Salt Lake City was just as cold as England, but they have snow instead of rain. Anyway, I got back to the lobby and used the now free computer to tell everyone not to worry and to reframe from planning the funeral.
Back in my room to stock the fridge and finish my up with my to do list. Double check training is still happening (because I'm always paranoid of things being elaborate practical jokes) and how I'm getting there. "Yeah we'll pick you up from *such and such a time* in the morning. Your hotel is on the way to Billy's," says the voice down the phone. "That's cool," I think "I'll be able to meet the man himself before we have to train." Sorted. Actually a problem did develop. With my to do list done, I had nothing to do (obviously) until tomorrow and I had plenty of the day left. Then again I'd yet to look downtown. I'd walked up and down the main road but I hadn't ventured into downtown yet because the bridge, that would've ment it was a straight walk, wasn't there and I'm not the best at finding my own way. It's always best if I get directions first and a map. I got both and set off.
I won't bore you with the what essentially me browsing shops for a couple of hours, instead it's time to introduce a new section to these blogs:
The Adventures of Super Sushi Boy
Yeah, I like sushi. Scratch that. I love sushi. It's easily my favourite food on the planet. So when I saw there were a bunch of japanese restaurants in SLC I knew where I'd be eating every night.
In Manchester visited I've pretty much every japanese restaurant there is, so I'm a pretty decent judge of the stuff even if it is only in comparison to my hometown favourites. So let's get ready for:
Manchester vs. SLC *Round 1*
Representing the Salt Lake, in this round, will be the Happy Sumo. The contest will be fought with nine pieces of spicy tuna and a miso soup.
The first restaurant of the trip was a good one. You could sit and watch the food being prepared at the bar, or attempt to distract yourself with the sports channel. Since watching the sports would've been like attempting to understand japanese, I decided to focus more of the food infront of me.
First up was the miso soup, and it was in a very friendly sized bowl, meaning large, which automatically gained the place some points. That, and the soup being really good, ment the Happy Sumo was off to a good start. The problem was the tuna wasn't anything special. It tasted good, nay great, but then again all sushi tastes great to me, so the main meal didn't really stand out. Where Salt Lake fell short though, was in the lack of inarizushi and red bean mochi.
Inarizushi is sushi rice wrapped in fried tofu and it's a must for any sushi place because it is nothing short of amazing. Something else that equals amazing is mochi. Mochi is a rice cake that can be filled with numberous things to add flavour, red bean paste being the best. With both of these key components of anyones sushi experience missing, I'm giving this round to Manchester.
I pay my bill and head back to what had quickly become a home for me. I'd decided the best way to spend the rest of my day was reading and day dreaming about double underhook suplexs.
In the next post I finally meet the man himself, Billy Robinson
Jack G.
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