Mixed martial arts: Amherst trainer teaches blood sport for the 21st century

By NOAH HOFFENBERG Staff Writer

Published on June 22, 2007

A presidential hopeful has called it "human cockfighting." Others are banking on its becoming the biggest sport in the country, if not the world.

Whether you're a fan or detractor, like U.S. Sen. John McCain, mixed martial arts, or MMA, has gotten its mitts on the Valley. A favored contender for the Ultimate Fighting Championship heavyweight title, Gabriel Gonzaga, trains in Ludlow.

Last Saturday, there was a lineup of fights at the Hippodrome in Springfield.

And right here in Amherst, New England Submission Fighting (www.nesf.tv) practitioners train intensely almost every day of the week.

Kirik Jenness, 46, is the school's director. He's been training in the martial arts since 1973 and in MMA - which blends boxing, kickboxing, jujitsu, wrestling, judo and other martial styles - for 14 years.

For the uninitiated, MMA matches consist of striking with hands, feet, elbows and knees, joint locks, chokes and throws. Fighters win matches by choking, submitting - called "tapping out" - or knocking out an opponent. Jenness said his MMA school was the first to train people how to do it in New England, starting in 1994.

For Jenness, nothing comes close to the satisfaction of using a mix of martial skills to defeat an opponent.

"It's physical chess. The more things you allow, the more complicated the game gets. If there's any hole in your game, your opponent will find it. ... It's a personal challenge, more than anything else," Jenness said.

"Other sports you play. You play golf, you play football, you play tennis, but this isn't playing. It's real. It's a fight," he said in a recent interview. "When you go out there, you have it in your mind to make the other guy quit."

Aside from teaching about 15 pupils at his training center inside the Amherst Athletic Club, Jenness also fights himself. He boasts a professional record of 3-0, having fought in a few locally promoted Mass Destruction bouts in eastern Massachusetts, most recently in September.

Come fight time, Jenness said most fighters are scared.

"You get butterflies, but you try to get them to fly in formation," said Jenness. "If you're not scared, you're burnt out and should get out of the game."

He said matches are a lot safer than they appear.

"The thing that lends safety to MMA is tapping out. In boxing, the whole ethos is Never quit.' In MMA, every single day in training, every person quits multiple times. You can't really quit in boxing," said Jenness.

Also unlike boxing, there is no count out, standing or otherwise. MMA fights are stopped at the first sign of unconsciousness should a combatant be choked or knocked out. However, it's still a "blood sport." Jenness has had to contend with broken hands, nose, ribs, toes and teeth. He said it's a tough sport, but that its injury rate is more akin to lacrosse than boxing.

Training at New England Submission Fighting occurs at five 11/2-hour sessions every week. Training consists of rolling around on mats to warm up; demonstration of two to six linked moves by the instructor; drills; and an open mat session, when practitioners can work on what they want, such as takedowns, reversals, kicks and punches. Most days, they train at 50 percent power to avoid unnecessary injury and to hone their techniques.

John Bachman, 26, of Amherst, is one of the lucky students who has been on the receiving end of Jenness' training regimen.

He's been practicing martial arts since age 15, beginning with Japanese jui-jitsu and then moving onto Brazilian jujitsu and MMA.

Bachman said he enjoys the "laid-back atmosphere" of practicing in Jenness' school. Bachman's idea of "laid-back" is "rolling" on the mat with three training partners - brothers Charles and Michael Bishop, and George Marchacos - for almost two hours straight.

He said both the ring and the training mat are no place for self-consciousness.

And to those who don't care for the prospect of being hit, in a ring or on the mat, Bachman said it's not so bad.

"Once you get hit a few times, it feels good," said Bachman.

Noah Hoffenberg can be reached at nhoffenberg@gazettenet.com.