Interesting odds. And I LOVE it. Good for anyone who bit when it was up to +150. You won’t regret the taste…
Maybe there’s a reason why I’ve stayed quiet during training. Maybe there’s a reason why a promo video featured solely throwing haymakers as hard as I can with zero defensive awareness and technique. Maybe there’s a reason we like being the underdog…
The Heartland Hype Machine has done its job, and done its job well. Hell, after all the pomp and circumstance around Chef’s nuts over the past month you’d think I’m fighting Ali in his prime and not some 39-year-old traveling comedian who lived on a bus for the past decade eating Taco Bell and spanking dank every day. Just because he’s training with professional fighters doesn’t make him a pro.
In fact, I’ll take the men who have been preparing me for war over anything he’s got. No free ads, but Mendez Boxing NY is a dingy, dirty, sweatbox of a boxing gym reminiscent of Mighty Mick’s on North Front St. in Philly (RIP). A spot that shapes boys into men, and men into killers. I’ve gotten my ass KICKED 5+ times a week over the past 6 weeks of training, and that’s at night after running 2+ miles of sprint intervals in the morning. I’ve been sparring with 6’4 amateur fighters who give me a concussion and black eye to sport all during Super Bowl week. All while working full days in the office, going to the Minnesota with nothing for 9 days (Shaun had his trainer brought with him), and dealing with Nate’s/Willie Colon’s/RapaFraud’s/Portnoy’s/Life’s absolute, unnecessary bullshit. Yeah, you’re a Internet bully who maliciously went after my job for clicks and fun while hiding behind social anxiety when something doesn’t go your way/Yeah, don’t fucking come after me because someone (very allegedly) threw batteries at your mother at a preseason football game in Philly/Yeah, you are a lying, fraud, hack, sack of shit – MUST READ/Yeah, you’re going to die alone/Yeah, everyone deals with shit, and I’m keeping my head down and plowing through it just like everyone else does. What exactly has Shaun had to deal with? Oh just living the life of luxury in the Heartland office where this happens:
The fucker hops on the radio for 2 hours a day and has free, professional training come to him in the morning and night. The dude lives a cushy, wimpy, Nerf life out there. Try mentally and physically walking a mile in my shit every single day in NYC and I guarantee he doesn’t make it out alive.
Am I a pro fighter? Hell no. Never claimed to be, and definitely am not one now. But I’m also just not some jabroni off the streets who started lacing ‘em up last night. Playing sports through college gave me the mental ability to be able to sack up 100% and fully dedicate myself to the ultimate goal. 6 weeks. Two a days 5x a week. No drinking (sans the Barstool party which hasn’t been talked about much in detail because it was the Super Bowl week and not apparently not everything is content). A diet as strict as Stalin. I was in pretty damn good shape before, but 6 weeks of pure, Rocky training in Siberian lands has only made me stronger.
In the end, it doesn’t matter what you think. Please, doubt me. I beg of you. After all, Chef is taking a private jet to Morgantown. I’m just sitting here delayed in the airport (h/t OMG) stewing internally to Mozart’s Requiem – A madman move only fit for a madman. We all we got. We all we need. An underdog is a hungry dog. And hungry dogs run faster. #SmittyVsEverybody
PS – I may need to fight Lou first just to calm him down. Dude is relentlessly off his gourd.