There's Only One Conor McGregor

Mayweather beat McGregor. Fact.

More facts: McGregor lasted longer than most educated boxing fans thought he would. He landed more shots than any other Mayweather opponent except for Canelo Alvarez ("But that's because Floyd changed his style..." SHUT UP! He changed his style because he had to.). And millions of self-proclaimed boxing fans won't bother watching Canelo Vs Triple G. Criminal.

And an opinion: McGregor brought more attention to boxing than anybody else who faced Mayweather in recent years. I'm not talking about the real boxing fans who know loads of facts and figures (yawn) about the sweet science. I'm not even talking about the fair (May)weather fans or the new McGregor UFC disciples. It's the people who were drawn into Mystic Mac's spell after a lifetime of not knowing a jab from a cross. Who did that? The one and only Conor McGregor.

Right, that last sentence, and the title of this post are both a bit misleading. As the Facebook group, Spide Pride, pointed out before the fight, his son is called Conor as well. But let's leave cute Conor Og (or Junior) alone for the sake of decency. If you want to be shitty, you can find a comments section somewhere else that'll welcome you with open arms.

Spide Pride were gently taking the piss out of Mick Konstantin's excellent song of the same name when they posted:

there's only one Conor McGregor🎶

Is BALLIX......sure his kids called Conor also?

That's cool. And the singer probably didn't even notice. He was busy. McGregor invited Konstantin to Vegas off the back of that, and in the candid videos that followed, I couldn't help but smile at the idea that Konstantin was a bard of sorts, leading an army of ne'er-do-wells in green football shirts through Vegas. Now, in reality, a lot of that army was probably felled by alcohol poisoning, sunburn, and beaten dockets by the time Mayweather stopped McGregor in the tenth round. BUT I doubt Konstantin and the pasty troops will think about their heat rashes and other unfortunate self-inflicted health issues when they tell their part of the story in years to come. They'll talk about taking over as one rather than taking part as individuals.

The lyrics of Konstantin's song include a reference to McGregor knocking out Mayweather. That didn't happen in this reality. But that still doesn't mean it was impossible.

I've read and heard plenty of arguments against that last statement. And I saw Mayweather school McGregor in boxing live; with bleary eyes; fuelled by black Irish coffees, and a promise to my kids that I'd wake them before dawn and heat up pizza for breakfast.

But I still believe McGregor could have knocked out Mayweather. He could have. Anything's possible.

In another version of this world, Conor said, 'Feck da money!' and wheel-kicked Floyd. Just for the craic. In yet another reality, Floyd agreed to step into a cage instead of the square circle. There's even a scenario in the infinite universes in which the fight won't happen until 2018, and people will still argue that Floyd isn't too old to outbox an MMA fighter. And they might be right in that timeline. Or wrong.

But that's not how it panned out here in this reality on the 26th of August 2017. The 27th, even, where I was sitting.

And yet, a short YouTube video in which my family paid homage to Mick Konstantin's song, is approaching 7,000 views at the time of writing this post. After the fight. The loss. The lack of knockout on Conor's part.* That's double the views from the week before, when McGregor's win was still a possibility.

There are also surprisingly few shitty comments on the video as well, considering it lives in YouTube, the spiritual home of the lowly shit-poster. Now, I'll admit, I deleted a couple of the first negative comments because I felt a responsibility towards my children and their feelings. I forgot for a minute that they're tough, and confident, and (unlike me) they don't read the comments. So now I just let them hang there. Trolls and keyboard warriors will do what trolls and keyboard warriors do. My eldest already knows that, and she's been stung a lot worse by sham friends than shit-posting strangers. Her brothers don't give a fuck about anything. The three of them will be fine.

So I'm relaxing on that hair-trigger of parental guilt and Irish temper. The safety is on.

And I welcome you to sample a wee bit of craic with the Brennans:

#DownWithTheMayweathers #CarefulNow #AndStillTeamMcGregor

*Technically, Mayweather didn't knock McGregor out either, but I'm glad the ref stopped it. That ref gifted McGregor a longer career. Love him or hate him, you know you want to see what McGregor does next.

No?

Just me, is it?

Aye. Dead on.

McDojo by Gerard Brennan

“Tony, mate, what the hell are you doing?”

“Just a second.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Shut up, I’m concentrating.”

“Would that not be easier if you put out the joint?”

“Ach… this is impossible. The guy on the video told me to get loose and relaxed before attempting the moves.”

“He probably meant you should do some stretches, Tony.”

“Are you a martial artist, John?”

“If I was I wouldn’t be using YouTube as a point of reference, mate. I’d go to a class and learn.”

“That’s rich. My dope supplier advocates education.”

“Well, that’s the difference between me and a low level dealer like… whatever the fuck you’re like. I’m educated… Um, is that a Bruce Lee costume?”

“It’s an oriental suit made from the finest Chinese silk available.”

“You’re not Chinese, though.”

“What’s that got to do with it, John?”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about, Tony. You don’t put enough emphasis on education. You’re not Chinese, how can you know that you’ve got the finest Chinese silk?”

“A Chinese man told me.”

“Proper Chinese, like?”

“You think you can fake being Chinese, Mister Education?”

“I think that a very good salesman told you that you’re wearing the finest Chinese silk and that he or she may have been a salesman of Chinese descent. But whether or not that person of Chinese descent actually travelled from China with a fresh batch of guaranteed finest silk…? Let’s say I’m a little cynical, Tony.”

“Come to think of it, he did have an English accent.”

“Hmmm.”

“But, here, let me show you this move I learned.”

“Off YouTube?”

“Aye.”

“No thanks.”

“I’m going to teach it tonight, though. I have to practice.”

“You teach a martial arts class now?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever been to a martial arts class?”

“Did a bit of kung fu when I was younger. It’s piss easy. I could teach you this wee move… no? And I’ve combined them with my knowledge of drugs to help—”

“I have a degree in business studies.”

“Good for you. Where did it get you?”

“I’m a businessman.”

“You supply drugs.”

“Goods and services. Supply and demand.”

“And you’ve to deal with the likes of me.”

“You’re entertaining, though, Tony.”

“Ouch.”

“Get off the floor. You obviously can’t do that.”

“I could if you weren’t here judging me. You going to help me up or what?”

“Come here… God, look at the state of you. You need a shave, Tony. And that finest Chinese silk is a holy mess of hot-rock burns. Why would anybody take instruction off you?”

“Hold your arm out and I’ll show you.”

“So you can…?”

“Put it in an arm bar.”

“And that’ll hurt, right?”

“Only if you fight back.”

“What if I fight back before I let you put it in an arm bar?”

“I won’t be able to do it, then.”

“Has nobody called you on that?”

“On what?”

“Never mind, Tony. Never mind. Have you many students?”

“About fifteen. A couple of them are wing nuts but they’re mostly cool. They respect me. And they’re all kind of like customers too, if you know what I… yeah, you know. But having a studenty-customer-type-thing is so handy. They trust me. And they’re loyal and they give me money. I don’t have to stand on street corners and deal with the lowlifes. Just the kind of people who want to improve themselves.”

“So you sell these students drugs.”

“No, I don’t sell the drugs. They come free with the lesson. It helps them to loosen up and learn.”

“Learn the stuff that you’ve gleaned from YouTube?”

“And I don’t get arrested on a street corner. Genius, right?”

“I’m not sure if I recognise true genius, Tony. You know that saying about the thin line…? But here, about that money you owe me?”

“Um. Can you come back later? I’ve a class to prepare for.”

“Yeah, I’ll be back. And maybe you could try that arm bar thing on big Frank. Show all your students how good you really are.”

“Hmmm. Or… I have a box of suits out back. Chinese silk. The finest Chi—”

This story was first published by Shotgun Honey, January 2012.  

Welcome to the Octagon Kindle Freebie

For the first time ever, Welcome to the Octagon, a Fight Card MMA novella, is free to download on Kindle. And it's a UFC weekend! I mean, come on! Just because our hero, Conor McGregor, doesn't have a spot on UFC 179 doesn't mean you can't get your fill of Irish fighters. This Belfast set tale of underground MMA and predatory gangsters will rattle your dome worse than a well-placed roundhouse.

Don't believe me? Here's a little love from the great Peter Rozovsky of Detectives Beyond Borders:

"Brennan knows how to keep a story moving, planting narrative hooks toward the ends of his chapters and throwing in at least one character wrinkle unlikely to have shown up in an old-time boxing story. But what may have impressed me most is his engagement with MMA, a sport until now shoved somewhere back in my consciousness next to street luge, half-pipe, and bicycle motocross. MMA is compounded of styles and techniques taken from many fighting sports, and Welcome to the Octagon is full of observations about the resulting complexity and the demands it places on the fighters.

"Welcome to the Octagon has heart, humor, and respectful engagement with its subject. What's not to like?"

Read the entire blog post (and the fun debate in the comments section) right here.

And get your copy of Welcome to the Octagon at the relevant Amazon territory:

UK
US
CA
DE

If you want me to add your territory, just leave a comment and I'll edit the post.

Freebie offer ends 29th October 2014.

Here's a little more info on the wee book:

FIGHT CARD MMA: WELCOME TO THE OCTAGON

Belfast 2013

Mickey The Rage Rafferty has gone through some tough times, but he's not ready to tap-out just yet. The Belfast widower has to take care of his eight-year-old daughter, Lily. However, his main talent is fighting and the only way he can make enough money off it to support his girl is to take dodgy underground matches paying off in bloodstained cash. Mickey’s trainer, Eddie Smith, doesn't approve. He wants his most promising student to step into the cage as a real martial artist, not as a fool for thugs and gangsters.

With Eddie on the verge of cutting him loose, Mickey is up against the cage – crushed between fast cash and a legitimate career. Mickey has some big decisions to make and some even bigger opponents to face.

The MMA life can be harsh, and it’s never easy ... Welcome To The Octagon.

Detectives Beyond the Octagon

I was delighted to have Peter Rozovsky weigh in on my Fight Card title, WELCOME TO THE OCTAGON, the other day. Please do visit his blog, Detectives Beyond Borders and look beyond the Octagon post. Here's a taster of his opinion:

"Brennan knows how to keep a story moving, planting narrative hooks toward the ends of his chapters and throwing in at least one character wrinkle unlikely to have shown up in an old-time boxing story. But what may have impressed me most is his engagement with MMA, a sport until now shoved somewhere back in my consciousness next to street luge, half-pipe, and bicycle motocross. MMA is compounded of styles and techniques taken from many fighting sports, and Welcome to the Octagon is full of observations about the resulting complexity and the demands it places on the fighters."

Thank you, Peter!

The post kicked off an interesting comment thread that highlights two very opposite opinions of the sport. Swing by, check out the original post, and please do scan the comments section. It touches on architecture in Barcelona and in one of my comments, I showcase my HTML skills.

MMA. Something for everybody.

BTW - although the cover gives credit to Jack Tunney for writing this story, it's a co-op pen name. This is a Belfast-based novella written by yours truly. Check out the Fight Card website for more info on the team of authors writing in the series.

You're Welcome

Right folks, consider this a heads-up. UFC 166 is on tomorrow night. I'm going to watch it (until I fall asleep -- main event is meant to start at 3am GMT) and I'll enjoy it.

And since MMA is on my mind, I thought I'd push my novella, WELCOME TO THE OCTAGON.

It's a Belfast-set, modern-day, action-packed story about a man who dreams of fighting in the big leagues. And the PAPERBACK version (yes, an actual dead-tree book, all you non-electronic-readers) will be available for £3.99 on Amazon UK or $4.99 on Amazon US until Monday. Then I'm setting the prices at £7.99 and $9.99 for a long-long time.*

This weekend is your last chance to get WELCOME TO THE OCTAGON for half price, guys.

Read the first chapter for FREE by clicking on the cover image on Amazon.

Or take McDroll's word for it. I especially like the fact that this review was written by a non-MMA fan:

"If you enjoyed Fight Club, you'll love this. Life on the tough side of Belfast as illegal fights are held in the upstairs rooms of pubs. Guys pummel each other to near death as bets are taken in the shadows. What motivates these fighters? For Mickey, it's his eight year old daughter Lily he fights for; keeping the wolf from the door and taking care of her since her mother's death. But when Mickey tries to go 'legal' he discovers why his new manger Swifty's offer seems too good to be true. Great story, fight action well described and a good old fashioned goodies v baddies showdown. You don't need to be a fight fan to enjoy this - give it a go!"

*Kindle prices will also increase on Monday. Currently (typing this at 11:08 GMT 19/10/2013) £0.99 UK and $0.99 US. They will be £1.99 and $2.99 on Monday.