around. His muscle mass is incredibly impressive for someone his age. If it wasn’t for his baby face, that blonde hair, and bright baby blue eyes, you would never guess that he’s so young.
Although considering how many girls flock to him when he’s around, they seem to like that smooth skin of his. When he wears a collared shirt he looks more like a yuppy than someone who would ever step foot into a cage. That also probably has something to do with how well-mannered the kid is.
But that just goes to show that looks can be very deceiving.
“You got it Reaper.” He says automatically. All the guys still call me by my nickname. A nickname that I worked hard for and earned.
“Okay guys, show me what you got.” I tell them while standing on the side watching them fight. I watch as Jameson moves quicker and gets Edgar to the ground fairly quickly. Jameson is trying to get him in an arm bar, a move that usually gets your opponent to tap out pretty quickly, but not able to do it effectively.
The arm bar is one of the most used joint lock submissions in MMA. It’s performed by placing your legs across your opponent’s chest, with one of his arms between your thighs and with the elbow joint against your hips. From that position, your opponent’s arm is grabbed with your arms and his forearm is placed onto your chest. To lock up the arm, you lean back and arch your hips at the same time. This creates extreme pressure in the elbow joint and usually causes your opponents to tap out fairly quickly. If the person doesn’t tap out quickly enough, they risk serious damage to themselves.
“Jameson!” I yell, making both fighters stop. My arms are crossed against my chest and I’m shaking my head. “Come on man, what are you doing? You should have this by now. This shit is one of the very first moves that you learned. Do it again!” I growl out.
He has so much fucking potential, but can’t do a proper arm bar to save his life.
I stand here and watch as he fucks it up yet again. I scrub my hand down my face.
“Pick up your hips more!” I yell. “Make sure that his arm is by your shoulder.” For the love of God. I’m going to lose my shit in two seconds.
I can’t keep watching this. “Stop!” I call out. “Edgar out of the ring. Go take a break and get some water.” I say as I walk into the ring.
Both guys are panting hard and have sweat rolling down their faces. They’ve been at this for the last forty-five minutes. I should probably give Jameson a break too, but he needs to get this shit on lock already. He has a match coming up in a few months and can’t be screwing this up anymore.
“I don’t know man. I just don’t get why I’m not sticking it.” Jameson says to me from where he’s sitting on the mat catching his breath.
“Doesn’t matter. We gotta fix this shit. I’m not going to let you have a match when you can’t do a simple arm bar. You will get your ass lit up man.”
He groans and rubs his hands over his eyes. “I know.” He agrees.
“Okay, it’s just going to be me and you for now. I’m gonna help you get this shit down no matter what.” I tell the kid as I get down onto the mat. Might as well start off where we need to be. He’s good at getting his opponents to the ground. He doesn’t need my help with any of that.
“You sure?” He eyes me warily. This motherfu….
“What do you mean? Of course I’m sure. Why the hell wouldn’t I be?” I growl.
He lifts his hands in surrender. “No reason, Reaper. It was just a question, that’s all. I just haven’t seen you step into the ring in awhile, that’s all.”
I narrow my eyes and grit my teeth. “How about you just worry about yourself?”
“Okay, no problem.” He nods his head and swallows. For a fighter, he’s probably the most non-confrontational person that I’ve ever met. I swear this kid becomes more of an enigma every day.
We stare at each other for a few seconds before he averts his eyes.
“Just get set up. Think you can do that?” I grumble like an asshole.
I see his cheek twitch, but he just nods his head. We both know that