How a drunken fight changed my life

Hey man

I hope you’re doing well.

The other week, I got into a fight with a big Russian guy.

Here’s what went down…

In case you weren’t aware, I’ve been travelling around Thailand since the start of the year.

And one night, I’m walking around slightly drunk on my 2nd rum bucket with a very good friend of mine.

We wander into a bar that’s shaped like an amphitheatre.

And to our amazement, in the centre of this bar was a big boxing ring.

…with two guys punching the shit out of each other in the middle.

The stench of cheap vodka hung in the air.

The drunken roar of the sunburnt tourist crowd reverberated against the sweat-dripping walls.

Thai locals frantically placed bets by the ring as the fights went on.

It was the most “Thailand” thing I’d ever seen.

But as the fight ended, nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

A big Russian guy gets into the ring.

The referee takes him by the hand and presents him to the crowd.

“Who wants to fight him?”

“Holy shit” I thought.

This wasn’t a professional organisation at all.

The fighters in the ring were drunk assholes from the fucking crowd!

And everyone fighting is a volunteer.

Before I could blink, my friend stood up and shouted

“OLLIE WILL FIGHT HIM! THIS GUY RIGHT HERE”

“Dianka, sit the fuck down” I said.

She didn’t listen.

But next thing you know, the Russian dude, the referee and the entire goddamn bar was looking in my direction.

Every now and then, life gives a man a challenge. How he responds says everything about who he is.

I couldn’t look myself in the face everyday if I knew, deep down, that I was a fucking pussy.

“Fuck it. I’ll fight him.” the words left my mouth as if spoken by somebody else.

The crowd cheers with anticipation.

“Dianka, you asshole” I said to her as she giggled at me like a mischievous girl.

I go to the corner of the ring where an ancient-looking old Thai guy gives me a pair of sweaty shorts to wear.

Gross.

Putting them on, I take a deep breath and get in the ring.

The crowd roared. I suddenly realised that I just agreed to fight a total stranger.

He could have been a boxing champion for all I know.

The creeping anxious thoughts invaded my mind.

The man across from me looks game to fight.

I started to panic.

Until I heard the noise.

DING DING!

The fight is on.

The guy comes at me. Pops me in the face with a jab.

I evade and throw a couple of my own.

Nothing lands.

We’re fighting 3 rounds. The first round is a feeling-out process.

Nothing wild. Just sizing each other up.

But in round two…that’s when it happens.

My mind goes quiet. And something takes it’s place.

I throw a right-hand fully intended to send him to the shadow realm.

Bang. It connects. I feel my knuckles pierce through the glove, connecting directly with his chin.

His legs go wobbly.

I follow up with a barrage of lefts and rights.

DING DING

Saved by the bell.

The round ends. I’m shocked at myself.

Because here’s something I’ve not told many people.

Since I was 14 I’ve had a recurring dream of being thrown into a boxing ring unprepared. I try to throw punches but they’re in super slow-motion. I get my ass kicked in front of everyone. Totally humiliated.

But the reality I was now experiencing was nothing like my dream.

And I’m watching some of my deepest fears dissolve before my eyes.

DING DING

Round three.

A quiet calm before the storm.

I can see he’s more timid than before.

After dancing around each other … I see an opening.

Then it happens.

I unleash a 3 punch combination. All of them land clean.

He hits the floor.

The crowd goes nuts. I walk back to my corner as my friend Dianka is screaming wildly.

She’s drunk. And Bulgarian. That says it all.

He gets up. This guy is tough. And he isn’t done yet.

He comes at me again.

I feel the air of his punches across my face as I evade by an inch.

I catch him with another right uppercut.

Following up with a left hook and a right straight.

He drops again.

DING DING

Fight over.

The crowd goes crazy. Beer rains into the ring like a monsoon.

People are losing their shit all over the place.

But as the chaos unfolded around me.

My internal world was as calm as a clear lake at 5 am.

Because I had just done something greater than any fight result.

I had overcome a fear that I’ve carried since I was a kid.

What was that fear?

The fear of not being good enough.

That fear has cost me more opportunities in life than I can count.

The businesses I didn’t start.

The women I didn’t approach.

The experiences I said NO to.

All because I was afraid of being exposed as “not being good enough”

Fuck … the amount of LIFE I haven’t lived.

All because of some stupid fucking fear that consists of 95% out-dated bullshit.

It makes me angry that this fear could worm it’s way into my brain like a parasite and sabotage my life.

And it makes me even more angry to think that this fear is currently killing the potential of countless men.

Maybe you’re one of them.

How much of your life have you avoided living … all because of fear?

How boring, predictable or dead has your life become … because of fear?

What could your life look like, if you finally decided to say YES to those things that scare you?

I invite you to meditate on these questions.

If they resonate with you, and you’re ready to make a change, then say yes to this next invitation.

Book a call with me. And let’s get to fucking work.

Power to you.

Big love,

Oliver