He trained two days a week for about 8 months. He’s a blue belt. He been kicking my ass since he moseyed on in the dojo. He’s reason numero uno, I started writing about little victories on my blog.
Getting crushed by super heavy weights I can handle. Outmaneuvered by college boy and his wrestling toolbox, is frustrating but I could cope with it intellectually, but the Tentacle? I couldn’t handle it. He’s a prodigy, forged from hot southern days of laying stucko. His grip is aquatic, you might as well be staring at a giant squid—and his guard?—inner thighs like iron…and then he’s stretchy again.
He’s a lanky guy, but his lank is low key, southern like his drawl, stretching his vowels through his lips. Hell, even his workman’s tan seems stretched out thinly over his skin. It has a mustard bbq quality you could only find in the bible belt. They just don’t make tans like this in
Most of the time when you think lanky, you think tall, b-baller height, since I started bjj I’ve been paying closer attention to bone structure—not merely physique I’ve always done that—analyzing bodies for functionality in the fighting arts, a habit inspired by The Tentacle.
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