Who recently visited an underground fight club, grossly violated it, not only talking about the club, but even showing its insides.
You can find out what and how members of the fight club in Moscow do from this report.
(Total 11 photos)
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1. 26-year-old office worker Evgeniy Nazarenko (left) organized an underground fight club. Twice a month, participants gather in a designated place and punch each other in the face. We don't learn to fight, we learn to suppress fear, says Nazarenko.
2. Before the fights, club members conduct a special exercise. Four people surround the fifth, shout obscenities at him and put pressure on him in every possible way. The point is for the fifth to feel fear and understand what to do with this fear. The exercise is very effective, even those who are just nearby begin to experience excitement. This is me about myself)))
5. If your nose is broken or your eyebrow is slightly cut, first aid will be provided by other club members; there is a first aid kit. There is no doctor at the club.
7. On this day, a girl took part in battles for the first time. 21-year-old Yana dressed as a guy and came to the gathering place. The fact that there was a woman in the club was already found out in the hall. They wanted to kick Yana out, but when they learned that she was involved in boxing, they left her.
8. Technically, she looked more confident than her opponent, but she lost the fight - she missed a difficult straight line and started bleeding. Yana says that in similar women's clubs, girls pull each other's hair and then hate each other. She doesn't like it.
There are those who know how to fight well. And there are those who are willing to pay money to see a good fight. When interests converge, underground fight clubs appear. The underground prefers to remain silent about these gladiatorial fights, although from time to time stories about fight clubs pop up on TV. Many films have also been made that tell the story of illegal fighters. Just remember “Fight Club” with Brad Pitt... But films mostly remain films, with a piece of truth and the lion’s share of a beautiful fairy tale. Those rare stories that supposedly present journalistic investigations in underground clubs also do not tell about what actually happens in the ring and in the audience. Everything is shown either too softly or too harshly and scary. That's why I decided to write this article. It so happened that in my hometown there is a real fight club, where my acquaintances and friends wave their fists every week. Some of them went to national “championships” and international “sports competitions”. In short, I am competent in the matter. Therefore, the information presented below can be considered reliable.
The fight club is an illegal commercial organization operating on the principle of betting. As a rule, rich people whose activities are related to crime stand above all this. The purpose of creating the underground Colosseum is to earn money while having an interesting pastime. It is a misconception that supposedly fight clubs are hobby groups where people come to let off steam. Even those establishments that initially had a non-profit basis eventually become betting shops. Thieves in law, bandits and local bigwigs flock to the underground battlefield to watch the brutal fight, and perhaps win money. Fighters join underground fight clubs to earn a living or a fix with their fists. Yes, that's not a typo. There are indeed a lot of junkies in fight clubs, but the bulk of the participants are athletes involved in martial arts in various sections of the city. They come to the fight club themselves or are invited. The invitation is banal and vividly illustrated in films. Champions are found by a representative of the club, or by six of some authority. This person makes an offer to the guy, and if the latter agrees, then the representative organizes a meeting for the fighter with the owner to discuss details and conditions. It is noteworthy that during such a conversation, the confidentiality of the dominant party is not mentioned. I'll explain why later. If you want to volunteer for a fight yourself, then everything is simple here too. We need to find those who will lead us to the representative. This is quite easy to do if you know where to look.
Fight clubs are illegal commercial organizations operating on the betting principle. Fighters come here to make money with their fists, and the rich and powerful flock to the underground Colosseums to place a decent bet on the champion or challenger.
Fight clubs can be located in a variety of places. For example, in my city this is an ordinary basement under a five-story building. It’s not remarkable, it’s not great how much free space there is, but nevertheless... There is no ring as such. In a square room there are mats on which the fight takes place. Spectators sit around the perimeter. In the next room, bets are made and vodka is drunk. The fight takes place once a week, sometimes less often. There are not many people: fighters, those who place bets, organizers, and a few “leftist” but trusted people. A doctor must be present. There is a guard at the entrance. This is approximately what the underground Colosseum looks like in a small town. In big cities everything is much more advanced. Underground fights are held in specially prepared rooms at nightclubs. There are much more spectators, people gather much more seriously, the level of fighters is higher, the stakes are higher... We can say that a big city is the center to which fighters and their patrons strive. Often in big cities “gatherings” are held where fighters from different parts of the country compete.
Even those underground clubs that were organized so that you could come and let off steam eventually become commercial. And “Fight Club” with Brad Pitt is just an exciting fairy tale.
Clandestine fight clubs are illegal, but, as practice shows, they are nevertheless legal. Those. Law enforcement agencies do not arrange visits and do not arrest anyone. Do you think it's a good conspiracy? Of course not. It's just that local police departments get their share each month. That is why during the “interview” with a fighter, they do not tell him that he cannot tell anyone about this, etc. If he passes, the club will not cease to exist, but the fighter has every chance of remaining disabled after such revelations with the police, or completely ceasing to function as a living organism.
Underground fighting is actually not that brutal. There are rules, there is a judge, there is fighting etiquette. Injuries and deaths are unnecessary hassle for the organizers.
In underground clubs, competitions are held taking into account weight categories. It’s rare to see a fight in which guys whose height and weight are very different are fighting (although this also happens). The battle can take place with or without elements of protection. This is already by agreement. But gloves or cue balls are almost never neglected. These are fairy tales where betting fighters fight with their bare hands. Sometimes, of course, such fights take place, but fighters receive much more prize money for participating in them. I have seen several films that featured underground fighting. In many of them, the plot developed approximately like this: there were two fighter friends. One decided to make money from fights without rules. He defeated countless opponents and became a contender for the title of champion. He had to fight with a huge brute with a terrifying nickname like “Bonebreaker” or “Buffalo”. In battle, the muzzle beat the challenger, and at the end of the fight, he broke his Adam’s apple, spine, or something else. In short, he killed. And the hero of the film sought revenge on the murderer of his friend. This is bullshit. Beautiful, heroic, somewhat epic, but delusional. It’s difficult to call something like this any other way. I don’t know of a single case of a fighter being killed in an underground club. Despite the fact that betting is well protected by law enforcement agencies and authorities, murder in the ring is a huge problem, unnecessary waste, and a huge risk of going to jail. As I already said, during battles there is always a doctor present who will provide emergency medical care to the victim. If the fighter’s injuries turn out to be too serious, he will be urgently taken to the hospital. But, as a rule, it doesn’t come to this. After all, underground battles are not massacres without rules, as many are accustomed to believe. There are clear regulations, there is basic etiquette, and a judge must be present. It is forbidden to strike the joints, groin, Adam's apple, or spine. Choking techniques cannot be used on the ground. Of course, it does not happen without injuries and fractures, but this is an accident and not a constant phenomenon. The fight goes on until the judge decides that one of the fighters has no chance left, or one of the participants is seriously injured. I have heard several times that in some underground clubs the fight goes to first blood. If you break someone's lip, consider yourself a winner. However, if your hand is taken for a break, then prepare for the worst, or hope for the compassion of the audience and the referee. Although I still think that these are pure fiction and rumors.
Does it seem to you that everything is rosy and wonderful, and you want to test your strength in the ring? Do not hurry….
Although there are rules, it still cannot be done without blood and injuries...
Perhaps in the ring in a normal club you are guaranteed relative safety. But no one can predict or guarantee anything about how the relationship between a fighter and his owner will develop. I know of a case where a fighter was seriously injured in the ring and decided to give up underground fighting. But since he won more than he lost, his “management” urged him to stay in business. They promised him money for treatment, high interest rates, but the guy’s decision was firm - to get involved in underground fighting, no matter what. The fighter’s decision greatly agitated the influential authority, and when the guy left the hospital, they found him and broke both of his arms. This act of authority was justified by the fact that he pulled the fighter out of the shit, gave him good interest, solved his problems several times, and he refused such an insignificant request. What am I talking about? Yes, that when a person joins an environment where people who are far from the law, people with their own specific concepts, rule, he becomes an integral and indivisible part of this world. And it is very difficult to break out of all this. Not because someone can forbid you to do this (as in the example above), but because this life drags on, the normal world ceases to be interesting.
In principle, this is all I wanted to tell you about. Perhaps your image of fight clubs was more vivid and attractive, and what you read about is not comparable to what you imagined. But unfortunately, things in most betting shops are exactly as described above. I repeat - I am fully responsible for the accuracy of the information.
Four hundred dollars. We made it so that some people began to fight with us, others wanted to fight with us, and everyone around us started talking about us. It cost us four hundred dollars,” Greg Apinyan sounds proud in his voice.
Apinyan is a 29-year-old resident of St. Petersburg and organizer of the Strelka mixed martial arts championships. Everyone in St. Petersburg knows what an “arrow” is. There is the Spit of Vasilyevsky Island. You can also “score the arrow,” that is, challenge your opponent to a serious conversation. And now here comes the championship.
The name is excellent,” states Apinyan. - My brother came up with it.
Over the two years of its existence, its fighting tournaments have gone from a $400 get-together to one of the leading players in the domestic market of mixed martial arts (MMA - from the English Mixed Martial Arts). Eight million views of Strelka videos on YouTube, a victory in the World Press Photo competition in the category “Best Sports Story”, which in 2011 went to the organizers of the championship for filming their tournaments, fights on the football pitch of the Petrovsky stadium, the home field of Zenit , a sacred place for St. Petersburg residents - these are just some of the achievements of Apinyan and the company.
The secret of Strelka’s success is that ordinary amateurs can take part in it, including those who have never been involved in fighting at all. And second: “Strelka” is a street championship. Its participants fight in the open air, on sand, grass or bare ground.
This is what sets us apart from traditional MMA tournaments,” says Apinyan. “Their format scares off many viewers: an octagon, people in a cage, blood, everything is scary and gloomy. And our championships are a completely different matter. Sand, blue sky, sun. And the most ordinary people who sometimes show such strength of spirit that one can only be surprised.
At the first Strelka, held in the summer of 2011, a 40-year-old mustachioed man entered the fight. Compared to the others, he seemed like a grandfather. The man's name was Alexander Reze, he was an accountant. In the next ten minutes, the “grandfather” gave a real fight to an opponent half his age and in the end won. According to the regulations, fights at Strelka do not have a time limit: they go on until one of the fighters gives up or until the referee stops the fight. The record fight in the history of the championship lasted 40 minutes without a break. Everything else is like in classic MMA. The fighters have pads on their hands, they are allowed to throw punches and kicks and fight on the ground.
I worked with the M-1 company, filming Fedi Emelianenko’s fights. Then he brought equipment and T-shirts from fighting companies to Russia and had a store. At first we thought: we’ll organize our own tournament to sell T-shirts better. But very quickly the fighting pushed the store into the background,” says Apinyan.
Information about the first Strelka was distributed among mixed martial arts sections. Everyone was invited to participate. The location was chosen for the St. Petersburg factory "Red Banner" - it once supplied the country with women's stockings, but is now going through hard times. An agreement was signed with the factory management to rent land in the yard for a period of one day. Friends brought twelve bags of sand, poured them onto the ground and leveled them. Ship ropes were strung along the perimeter to create a ring. Members of city auto and motorcycle clubs were invited as spectators - free of charge; Strelka began charging money for tickets later. They arrived and created a beautiful background: expensive cars, roaring engines, girls in short shorts. It was just a small matter - film everything on camera and post it on the Internet. All this, according to Apinyan, cost the notorious $400. Moreover, almost half of this amount was promised as a reward to the fighters.
Five people volunteered to fight. And then I said: there are six thousand rubles left, we can divide them into three thousand and have two fights. When these fights ended, people really got excited. They threw a hat at the audience and collected another six thousand. New people immediately appeared who wanted to try themselves in battles.
Over the course of two years, eleven mixed martial arts tournaments were held under the auspices of Strelka. The impudent St. Petersburgers were noticed and taken under the wing by the American company Tron, which specializes in organizing MMA tournaments. Apinyan does not disclose the amount for which the Americans bought the right to manage the fighting tournament in Russia. But judging by his cheerful voice and Napoleonic plans, the deal was right. He continues to organize fights, but as a hired employee of the Americans.
Today Strelka offers franchises to regions. A person in any city in Russia can take advantage of its name, its marketing resources, including a sophisticated website, and host the championship at home. Two years of using the Strelki brand will cost him three million rubles. There have been no takers yet. But they plan to raise the price of the franchise even higher. Because, according to Apinyan, Strelka will continue to develop and become more famous:
There will be no more tournaments in St. Petersburg. We feel confident enough to storm Moscow. And then, if everything goes well, in two or three years we will enter intercontinental development.
Today there are 838 people in line to participate in Strelka battles. This is enough for seven or eight tournaments. Fighters in the championship still do not earn much money; fees for victory rarely exceed three to four thousand rubles. However, this does not at all confuse men who want to try their hand at fighting without rules. They come from different areas, with different fighting qualifications. Once, even a prisoner called from prison. He said: “I’ll be out in four months, I want to fight.”
Ali Baba and the robbers
Every week, at least a dozen mixed martial arts championships are held in Russia, in which amateurs can participate. Information about them is disseminated on social networks and on forums of Internet sites dedicated to martial arts, such as koicombat.org or mixfight.ru. The geography of these tournaments is extremely wide. This could be the Serednikovo estate near Moscow, the former estate of the Lermontovs-Stolypins, where in 2011 they held competitions in the toughest version of T-1 fighting. Or city sports complexes, as was the case in Makhachkala, Barnaul, Birobidzhan, Voronezh, Krasnodar and almost any other city in Russia with a population of fifty thousand or more.
Often, fighters are brought to restaurants and nightclubs, where patrons enjoy the fights in a snobbish, Great Gatsby manner, sitting at tables with drinks and food. This was the case, for example, in Kolomna near Moscow.
All together, this means that an impressive number of men for whom fighting is not a profession finish their work on Friday, say goodbye to their colleagues until Monday and go earn extra money with their fists. Or, if they don’t offer money, prove to themselves and the world everything that men usually prove.
Alexander Anisimov is a 30-year-old employee of a road construction company in Vladimir. For his debut in mixed martial arts, he chose the version that one authoritative sports publication called “cannibalistic” - T-1. The "T" stands for "total."
According to T-1 rules, competitors compete in shoes with hard soles. It is allowed to headbutt and finish off the opponent with legs if he does not give up. The organizers wanted the participants to fight with their bare hands, without gloves, but the fighters themselves objected. “Not everyone was ready to overcome the psychological barrier and fight with their bare fists,” says German Lvov, president of the T-1 league and popularizer of absolute fights. So in the end the fighters were allowed to fight in mixfight pads.
One of the participants in the weight category of Alexander Anisimov dropped out of the tournament, first receiving a blow to the nose with his forehead (his nose was broken), and then, while lying on the floor, a kick to the head. Alexander turned out to be more fortunate. He reached the final and only there, caught in a painful hold, lost.
At different times I was involved in hand-to-hand combat and wrestling,” he says. - And then I became interested in weightlifting.
When asked what made him leave his wife and one-and-a-half-year-old son in Vladimir and go to a foreign land to fight, he says: “It became interesting.” However, he immediately adds: “The interest was satisfied.” And, at least in the near future, there will be no more fights in his life.
Interest is what attracts many people to amateur mixfight. However, participating in fights can also be a way to earn money. According to the Russian Pankration Federation (this organization seeks to give mixed martial arts Olympic status), the fee for first place in non-professional tournaments ranges from 30 to 50 thousand rubles across the country. The participants themselves name more modest amounts - 10–20 thousand.
The prize fund is collected from sponsorship money or contributions from the participants themselves. Athletes who fight regularly travel to two or three tournaments a month. If you win at least one of them, and take second place in the other (for which they often give half the amount), minus travel expenses, you will get a “salary” of about a thousand dollars. This is a lot for the province. And if you win more often, you can earn more. But there are no such obvious stars in amateur MMA: the rotation of winners occurs constantly.
The man whose nose was broken on T-1 is called Ali Baba. His real name is Vyacheslav Yurovskikh, he is 40 years old. Having no fixed place of residence and sometimes spending the night at Moscow train stations, Ali Baba wanders from one mixfight tournament to another. He searches for information about them on the Internet: he carries a laptop with him, maintains a page on the website mmablog.ru and often surfs social networks.
Ali Baba is lean, wears a beard, and his broken nose reveals him as a person who has had a hard time in life. A couple of months ago they wrote about him in a sports magazine. He gained a reputation among journalists as a difficult person: he refused interviews to many, including, in his own words, “many television people” and “some filmmakers.”
We have been corresponding on VKontakte for some time. Ali Baba writes from N-sk, his hometown, where he went to visit his parents. He hides the real name of N-sk and calls it “Zasransk”: “This is a black hole. It's all Groundhog Day."
In the 90s, he studied at the journalism department of Moscow State University. There he began to study sambo in the university section. And when life threw him, a provincial, to the sidelines - without a permanent job, without money - it was wrestling that became his main occupation. In mixfight, Ali Baba looks like a bearded spider. He rolls up to his opponent, knits, and tries to take the throw. “Fights are not a fountain,” - this is how he himself speaks about his fights.
VKontakte is one of the few ways to communicate with Ali Baba. “I threw away my phone last November. There is no Skype either,” he writes. He says he doesn't do interviews because he wants to remain himself. He has no sponsors. And in Moscow he is still homeless: “To be completely happy, you don’t have your own corner, or even a room.” I could write a book about myself, there have been proposals, but not yet. In the near future there are tournaments in Rostov-on-Don and Belgorod: “This year I fought almost every weekend.”
Very soon Ali Baba's character makes itself felt. Having learned that he will not be the only hero of the article, he curtails the correspondence. There will be “enough heroes without me,” his last message says.
25-year-old native of the Leningrad region Vyacheslav Kashuba is the complete opposite of Ali Baba. He willingly answers questions, and he is not embarrassed that they are going to write not only about him.
“Mom told me: intellectuals shouldn’t fight!” - Three years ago, Kashuba, an engineer with a specialty in navigation, went on voyages. Sailed to America, Canada, Europe. Then I found out that very close by, in St. Petersburg, they were holding strange sand fights - “Strelka”, and sent an application to participate. “They didn’t answer my first letter. The second time they called back, and so my adventure began.”
Today he is known in the world of amateur mixfight under the name Moryachok. Although the sea is long gone: Vyacheslav sports a daring mohawk on his head, trains every day and dreams of making a professional career in mixed fights. He has four fights at Strelka (three wins, one loss) and experience in other tournaments. So far, he says, mixfight does not generate income. But before his eyes is the glory of UFC tournaments, the main promotion company in MMA.
In the ranks of the UFC are all today's mixed-fight stars: black giants Jon Jones and Anderson Silva, curly-haired fighter with African-Korean roots Benson Henderson, light and hard as steel Chael Sonnen. They all receive five-figure salaries and live the life of real stars. They have broadcasts on cable channels, their own fan sites, and they are recognized in any city in the world. But in order to reach these heights, you need to give all of yourself, all your time. Is he ready for this? Vyacheslav Kashuba is not sure about this. So far he has accomplished the main thing: he overcame himself, went out to fight against opponents who were both more experienced and larger. What was the most difficult thing? He recalls street battles in St. Petersburg: “The most difficult thing was to shovel sand out of my whole body!”
Underground
Illegal fights are a topic that comes up one way or another as soon as we talk about mixfight. When asked “underground fights in Moscow,” the Internet provides links to a series of journalistic reports. All of them are written extremely harshly, are replete with details and, most likely, do not contain a word of truth.
“In the twilight of a nightclub, guys with fists like sledgehammers gather. Losers often leave the arena on stretchers,” writes one author. Another paints an even more sinister atmosphere: “The Moscow police began to discover the corpses of young people. Obviously violent signs of death indicated that the guys were killed in a fight. But where, how and who remained a mystery<…>And after some time the terrible truth was revealed<…>Underground battles took place in Moscow. Real fights to the death."
In the Investigative Committee database, the only mention of fight victims dates back to 2008. And even then we are not talking about underground battles, but about a completely official championship. A 16-year-old participant in a karate tournament in Kemerovo died of cardiovascular failure after receiving a blow to the chest. The blow was within the rules; no violations were found in the actions of the doctors. Due to the lack of evidence of a crime, they did not initiate a criminal case.
The existence of bloody underground battles is also denied by the Arbat district police department in the capital. In the late 90s, there were legends about this area: supposedly the most terrible tournaments took place in gambling establishments on Arbat. “If this ever happened, it’s long gone,” says a department employee who asked not to use his last name. “Today we have no data on unofficial fighting tournaments.”
The President of the Russian Pankration Federation, Vladimir Klenshev, agrees with this assessment:
There is more noise around so-called street fighting games than real facts. Yes, we have information about such tournaments. But almost always this is the initiative of teenagers who have seen enough films. It ends with a couple of broken noses, and the next day the teenagers start doing parkour or something else they saw on TV. In other words, none of this is serious.
Main men's work
The boom around amateur mixfight is alarming official organizations.
All these fights lack the main component of the sport - children's sections, systematic, comprehensive work with young people. “All I see is the desire to make money,” Vladimir Klenshev laments. - Organizers of amateur tournaments want to protect themselves from liability as much as possible. To the point that they force fighters to sign contracts where they take on all possible risks. Does this sound like what sports should be?
Klenshev suggests following the example of Fedor Emelianenko, the legendary MMA fighter. Everything is right with him, the president believes: Fedor trains young people and, by his own example, guides them in the right sporting direction.
21-year-old Tolgat came to Moscow from Uzbekistan, and, unlike the president of the Pankration Federation, amateur fighting tournaments arouse only enthusiasm for him. Six days a week, Tolgat repairs the sidewalk on Leninsky Prospekt as part of a construction crew. Then, if there is strength left, he goes to the area with the horizontal bars in Neskuchny Garden. MMA fighters generally love horizontal bars. It is believed that they allow you to build muscles in moderation: so that they do not interfere with hand speed. Tolgat carefully folds his T-shirt with the logo of the M-1 promotion company and begins to practice his punches.
In his homeland, he practiced Thai boxing, not for long - only a year and a half. But in Moscow, he heard, this is enough to be recruited for fights and become a star.
Construction is not my life. This is the second,” Tolgat sums up. - And the main thing is the fight.
One hit. Second. Third. Fiftieth... When his time comes to step into the mixfight cage, he wants to be in shape.
Like Tolgat, other men also practice their blows. They do it in gyms. In parks. In the hallways while waiting for the elevator. In our own kitchens, while no one sees. They work as programmers, sales managers, freight forwarders, whatever. But the main thing - and even their relatives may not realize this - is not their job. The main thing is the fight.
One hit. Second. Fiftieth…
Broken faces, swollen lips, stains of chocolate, plum and red currant flowers on the faces of gloomy men leaving the arena... Fights without rules are no longer exotic. Television regularly regales viewers with clippings from the famous “octagon” and “circus performances” of American Wrestling Federation wrestlers. But true fights without rules are a spectacle for few, and not everyone can afford access to them. Having met in Moscow with one of my friends, who once earned his living by participating in Rostov illegal fights without rules, I learned that he had not betrayed himself in the mother throne. A friend agreed to take me to the “kitchen” of the capital’s gladiator fights.Fight club
Late evening. Outskirts of Moscow. Our jeep drives up to a settlement of new “palace-type” buildings. The beam of headlights snatches out of the darkness an unfinished two-story cottage with several foreign cars near the huge iron gates. Loud voices, laughter and the clapping of beer cans being opened can be heard from the house. We go through the garage into the house. The forty-watt light bulbs are barely enough to see faces.
On the ground floor I run into a huge guy in a bright red tracksuit, punching an imaginary bag. A little further away, two men in tights exchange warm-up blows. The eyes get used to the semi-darkness. In the corner of the room, a big guy in a purple wrestling tight, the kind worn by grappling and throwing specialists, is meditating on a wooden bench. Opposite, his potential opponent in the same tights is flexing his shoulders. He warms up, without taking his eyes off his meditating colleague. At the exit from the room, with his arms crossed over his chest and the back of his head leaning against the door frame, a shaven-headed brute in a racer T-shirt and torn shorts is quietly talking with a guy in a kimono. All these people are the famous Moscow gladiators - underground fighters without rules.
We go up to the second floor, into a bright and spacious hall for fights. It's smoky and smells of beer and fresh grilled chicken. In the corner of the room there is a large round table; on it, on the pages of scattered porn magazines, are delicious-smelling, somehow broken hot chicken carcasses. There are cans of beer nearby. In the center of the room are several old worn sports mats - a gladiatorial arena. Along the walls, on low benches, there were spectators chewing and sipping beer. A thick, even hum of voices: swearing jokes, teasing, laughter. The audience doesn't look like respectable bosses at all. Everywhere you look there are broad shoulders dressed in stretched T-shirts, bull necks with thick gold chains. Their faces were flushed from ingestion and excitement. Judging by snatches of phrases, they themselves do not miss the opportunity to take part in fights without rules. That’s right: I’m at the internal tournament of the Moscow Federation of Infinite Fights. And I get to see the newbies fight.
Bet on a couple
Finally, to the roar of the assembled company, the first fighter appears on the carpet - the thug in a red tracksuit whom I encountered on the first floor. He looks about thirty-five years old. From under furrowed eyebrows he shoots a sharp look at the audience. The big man strips down to his swimming trunks (in fights without rules, participants leave on a minimum of clothing so as not to stain it with blood), impatiently shifts from foot to foot, waiting for the enemy to come out. The second fighter did not keep himself waiting: the figure of one of those warming up in sparring appears in the doorway. Having undressed, he begins to slowly approach the first one and, having caught up with him, simply stands next to him. I'm starting to wonder. My bewilderment is aggravated by the calmness of the public. But the next few seconds make everything clear. From another door, a big shaven-headed guy in a wrestling shirt, whom I met in the training room below, enters the room, followed by his interlocutor in a kimono. Both undressed and stood at the other end of the carpet, gazing at the first couple. It's clear: this will be a two-on-two fight.
At internal competitions, spectator gladiators also bet on their colleagues. But these amounts, naturally, are much lower than what real spectators make. Fighters can bet no more than $300-700 on each other. It happens even less. That evening I was lucky: I watched the “twos” fight. Each colleague's victory was valued at an average of $500.
A cry of “Come on!” was heard from the crowd of spectators, followed by a flurry of screams and shouts, encouraging and pitting the fighters against each other. Couples began to converge. Apparently, who would fight with whom in each of the “twos” was determined by the gladiators themselves in advance. The big guy, who entered the arena in a wrestling T-shirt, chose as his opponent a fighter of similar size to him (before the fight he was dressed in red), and his colleague (the one in a kimono) was a sparring player. The fight was started by “red”, who tried to strike his opponent with a direct blow to the head. He deftly avoided the blow, responding with an equally unsuccessful attempt at a right hook, but did not avoid the next one - a knee to the side. This test of combat tore the opponents apart for a few seconds, but with even greater passion they rushed at each other again.
Another pair of gladiators, who initially unsuccessfully tried to reach each other with their hands, attracted the attention of the audience with elements of Thai boxing - a hail of powerful kicks to the body. Having danced in this cockfight, they collided with the second fighting couple, aggravating the blow to the chest missed by the “red”, and he almost lost his balance. Angered by the missed blow and the collision, he rushed with a roar at his opponent and, grabbing him by the legs, jerked him onto his back, completing the move with a lightning-fast blow to the nose: the first blood that splashed out simply blew up the audience - it seemed that they themselves were ready to rush into battle. Meanwhile, he was knocked down to the mats, dodging the second blow, with a left hook he demolished the opponent who was perched on top and, as if nothing had happened, jumped to his feet. Shaking his head, his opponent also stood up from a crouch.
Masters of golden seams
Broken noses and broken arms in underground fights without rules are not at all uncommon, but are probably the only rule. But often fights end with much more serious injuries for opponents, requiring surgical intervention. Self-respecting organizers of fight betting have one or two doctors on their staff who are present at every fight. The pay for these fast suturing specialists varies depending on the level of competition, ranging from $300 to $1,000 per month. But, frankly, such field doctors are just an element of window dressing, adding seriousness to a street fight transferred to the underground rings of elite nightclubs.
It is simply impossible to carry out a fight and come out of it without a single scratch in true fights without rules. And recently, the places of the underground lists are marked by one or two ambulances on duty near them. The services of a team of doctors on wheels hired for the whole night cost an average of $300 plus a bonus, a double privilege - the opportunity to watch the fights along with the rest of the spectators and, moreover, for free. Usually, the capital's nightlife establishments, which specialize in gladiator performances, are closed for special services during fighting hours. Do we need to be members. And here doctors are in favor. But only until the first serious injury.
If the victim requires hospitalization, he is taken to the nearest hospital, where he is registered as having simply been picked up on the street, beaten, “obviously by a gang of hooligans.” As a rule, these are hospitals where gladiators’ personal doctors practice during “hot” times. One overnight delivery of a wounded person to a medical facility leaves $250 or more in the doctor’s pocket.
Show must go on
When, in the tenth minute of the battle, having missed a direct kick, one of the fighters folded and fell on the blood-splattered mats and three remained in the ring, the sweaty, bloody-faced “red” who had defeated the opponent, breathing heavily, did not go far - he squatted down in corner of the carpet. The tired second couple, who by that time were fighting on the ground and now and then exchanging blows to the head, tried to use Greco-Roman wrestling techniques against each other. But these techniques turned out to be ineffective, and the direct blow to the nose from his opponent became fatal for the gladiator left alone. Victory was won. Today there were no particular injuries, perhaps because the gladiators fought for their own, or perhaps because of the equality of partners. No special joyful congratulations or hugs. Leaving the carpet, the partners only slightly butted heads with swollen eyebrows caked with brown blood. Well, tomorrow the lot may pit them against each other in battle.
Meanwhile, the wrestlers entered the arena amid general shouts and hooting. The performance continued.
Some experts argue that in terms of relative profitability, ultimate fighting is among the top ten businesses, behind only the trade in weapons, drugs, oil, and prostitutes, but already ahead of the production of “scorched” vodka and pirated book publishing. Therefore, as the unforgettable Freddie Mercury sang, the show must - and will - go on, like any show with a taste of human blood...
DMITRY NAZARKIN
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