Chapter 2 - From spectator to enthusiast, the impact of seeing my first kickboxing gala.
It was the day after the big kickboxing gala in Amsterdam and I had enjoyed it. The atmosphere, the people, the fights, everything was great. While I was relaxing and thinking about the different kickboxing rules, it occurred to me that Muay Thai rules was the real game. I had learned that PKA allowed boxing and kicks to the body and head, WKA where rock hard low kicks to the legs were allowed and Muay Thai allowed all kicks, knees and clinches, all in shorts. I took a bite of my cheese sandwich and thought about the walk I would later take with Lisa and her father to walk their dog.
As I rode my moped to her house, I couldn't wait to see her and tell her all about the amazing gala. I greeted her with a kiss and her father joked that we shouldn't be too clingy. After talking with them for a while, we went to the woods to get some fresh air. I already knew about the next gala at the Jaap Eden hall and had become a big fan of Muay Thai Kickboxing and Amsterdam Pitbull Andre Brilleman.
In the evening I went to the youth center where I spent time with my friends. We discussed the kickboxing gala and also the future confrontation with the boys from the Rozenprieel in Haarlem, a notorious neighborhood with a gang that will stop at nothing. I also talked to Jack and Edwin, who had also had a good time. I went home early, walked with Lisa to her house and we stayed in the gate for a while, which was always exciting. Then I went home on my moped and went to sleep early because I was going to go running early the next day with my father in the dunes of Noordwijkerhout.
After an early morning dune run, I enjoyed a delicious breakfast with my father at the kitchen bar, consisting of fried egg, bacon and melted cheese. Over breakfast, we talked about the previous evening's gala, which I was excited about because of my experiences there. "Kickboxing is my sport, Dad," I said. My father looked at me with an interested look, which made me a little nervous. I continued, "It's a sport of the future, and I want to learn how to fight and teach later if possible." My father now looked at me with a surprised and pleased look, and said, "I'm going to think about what we can do this week." "Okay, Dad, see you later." Later that day, I visited my friend's soccer club, where she participated in a home game of the women's team. Lisa was a tough player with a big mouth that you could kick in half if necessary. Her team won 3-1, and she even scored a goal. It was a successful weekend.
This week went by quickly. I did an internship with my dad at the gym and worked at the flower auction. On Wednesday, I did a quick visit to see Lisa at her school, since her parents thought only the weekend was appropriate for a meeting. To spend an hour with her, I sneaked off on the moped to the home school. Thursday night, fortunately, I had no class hours and went to the shopping night. There we always gathered about forty people. It was always pleasant, but sometimes there were some fights, which usually didn't amount to much.
Saturday was "Boxing at Edwin's Day," where many friends and acquaintances had signed up. We were going to brawl again this afternoon. There were about twenty of us between the ages of sixteen and twenty five. Since we had been to kickboxing last week, I suggested we kick as well. Edwin, as a karateka, was fine with that, and I had experience with karate myself. The others were surprised, but not really excited. I started against Edwin and we basically just showed how to do it, it had little to do with kickboxing. Then the others also went wild with punching, kicking, boxing and knees. It was pretty intense and sometimes it looked like ordinary street fighting. There were lots of nosebleeds, black eyes, sore shins, sore thighs, sore elbows and Ronnie even broke his rib.
At the end of the day we were all satisfied and sat together. Most were positive, but thought it could be a little less hard. I found it fascinating and thought the gym should introduce this sport soon. We each went our separate ways after that, but had agreed to meet at Time Out in the evening. Later in the evening we would go to the main square downtown, where our local snack bar was and where Magnum would open that night, the new nightclub. We had everything we wanted: a close friend group, a youth center and a new nightclub that was opening for the first time tonight.
We went in one by one, because we had agreed not to all be at the door at the same time, otherwise we would surely be refused entry. At 12:30 in the morning, everyone was inside and we looked our eyes out: two bars, two lounges, a snack area, a dance floor and two big doormen. I sat with Lisa in the back and told her, "This is fun." She was worried that I was cheating, but I reassured her that she was the only one. We gave each other a kiss and she whispered in my ear, "I love you." At two o'clock Lisa had to go home and at a quarter to two we said goodbye to everyone. I took Lisa home and then I drove home. I briefly thought about going back, because you had to be in before two o'clock to stay until five, but I decided against it.
The next morning I had not gone to the dune run and was still in bed when I heard my father come home. I quickly got dressed, washed my face and went downstairs. My father said he had been thinking about kickboxing and that he had spoken to Jan Plas of Mejiro Gym on the phone on Friday and had an appointment with him in Amsterdam on Tuesday afternoon. My father told me that we would be teaching kickboxing classes at the gym and I would be promoting it, learning, gaining experience and teaching. I was so happy and thanked my father. We waited for Tuesday and after talking to Jan Plas we would know more. I mentioned Andre Brilleman as a possible trainer and my father smiled. I said goodbye and ran upstairs, overenthusiastic.
After I showered and got dressed, I put on my nice green bomber jacket. I wore only a T-shirt underneath and the sun was shining. I started my Zundapp and to my surprise I realized I had forgotten my helmet when I was already on my way to Lisa. In my mirror I saw a motorcycle cop and I and my friends knew all the escape routes in the village, including the gates and small roads with poles. I accelerated and tried to reach the church and the adjacent residential area, because I would not make it on the road. The motorcycle cop was right behind me and I expected him to kick me off my moped before the left turn, but to my surprise that didn't happen.
I drove past the church in amazement, where cars were not allowed and where there was a gate at the end that led to a parking lot behind a block of houses. I didn't have to take that route because I drove between two stone bollards and shortly thereafter I heard a loud bang. The officer's motorcycle had cases on the side and didn't fit between the posts, so he drove right behind me at about sixty mph and was launched from his motorcycle. I stopped about fifty meters away, looked back and saw that the cop was getting up quickly. I thought it was okay and accelerated, went through the gate, into the parking lot, over the little bridge, through another gate and put the moped in the back of Jack's yard.
Jack was home and opened the back door. "Quick, put that thing in the shed," he said. He opened the shed with a key, we pushed the moped inside and went in quickly. At that moment a police car drove down the street. We sat on the bench and smiled at each other. "Stay here for now," Jack said. "In an hour you will walk home with a coat from me. Your moped will come tomorrow." I realized that I had gotten away well. I hadn't been caught and more importantly, I still had my fast moped. Another weekend passed; there was always something fun and exciting happening in my village.
On Tuesday there was something important on the agenda for my father: he had an appointment with the well known kickboxing trainer Jan Plas. He was he one of the most famous trainers in the Netherlands, along with Thom Harinck of Chakuriki, who also had a big name in the sports world. Together they were the founders of kickboxing in the Netherlands and that made this appointment extra special. I was quite nervous that day and that feeling did not disappear during the day. I had not seen my father that morning because he had left early to teach self defense to the police. If he had known what had happened last Sunday when I was chased by someone, they might have had something to talk about.
After class, he would go to Berkel en Rodenrijs to do some shopping at Matsuru, such as judo and karate suits, belts, diplomas and other martial arts supplies. It is the place to go for budo items at wholesale prices. At two o'clock he had an appointment at the dojo on the Lauriergracht in Amsterdam, where the top fighters were training at Mejiro Gym. It was unfortunate that I couldn't be there, but I understood. We had agreed that if he would be late, I would teach the youth judo class for the little ones for the first time at four o'clock. It was my first time alone, so that caused extra nerves. There was a room full of toddlers five, six, and seven years old running loose and their mothers looked on proudly. Just as I started, my father entered the dojo and quickly put on his judo suit. He smiled at me, raised his thumb, and took over the lesson. I felt relieved by his presence and that I could just give directions to the little ones again. A burden fell off my shoulders.
After teaching for three hours, my father had an hour break at seven o'clock and then taught the seniors for two more hours at eight, I was off for the day at seven o'clock. Together we walked to our house, which was next to the gym. When we entered, it smelled wonderful. Dinner was ready: my mother had fried a shoulder chop with boiled potatoes and lettuce. Delicious! "Well," my father began, "Jan is a nice guy, a purebred Amsterdammer." I listened intently and waited for more. "Guys from Mejiro Gym can teach under the auspices of him and the NKBB (Dutch Kick Boxing Union). That's awesome, Dad!" "That's kicking," my father continued. "I talked to Jan about Andre Brilleman. He was there, as were El Geubli, Flinkevleugel, Veltman, Kaman, Yamali and a few others. They had had bag training this afternoon.
My father had agreed with Jan that lessons could be taught from November 1 for a fee of twenty five guilders an hour. I was happy, this was totally awesome. The top guys were coming here to start teaching kickboxing. Brilleman was interested, but he was just starting to prepare for his fight that would take place in the Jaap Eden hall in the second week of 1984, on January 12. That would be another top gala with the best Dutch fighters against top fighters from Thailand such as Marcel Schwank, Green, Vierra, El Geubli against Sotcheun, Muzaffer Yamali against Virasak, Andre Brilleman against Somkuan, Rob Kaman against Payap Penchai. This would be Andre Brilleman's last match before he would be allowed to fight for the world title against Howard Jackson on April 21, 1984.
Andre could start teaching in the gym and if he was too busy training and preparing for his match, Rudy Flinkevleugel or Thijs Veltman would take over that day. It had also been agreed to start on Wednesday and Friday. I sat listening to everything with amazement and was surprised and very happy. "Thank you very much, Dad. I'm very happy," I stammered. I stood up and gave him a hug. "Three more weeks until the first Wednesday," my father said with an undertone that I could quickly start my homework. In other words, promoting the classes, finding people who wanted to participate and learn kickboxing, placing ads in the local newspapers and creating a flyer to be delivered to people's homes with the newspapers.
There was plenty to do. It would work out. I was excited and knew that if I put my all into something, it will work out. I am very curious about what is to come and how everything will turn out. It is really going to happen, there will be kickboxing classes at the gym and I will be the first and best student. What a great prospect!