The Return

I have been involved in Muay Thai for 10+ years now. Whilst my training has been consistent, my fighting has been less so, with a break between 2017-2019, and a return at the end of 2019 cut short after just one bout due to the Covid lockdown. In that time, some of my priorities and motivations changed, leaving me with the feeling that maybe my days of competing were done and it was time to focus other interests, in particular coaching and strength training. At least that way, I wouldn’t have to cut weight again!!

And yet, on Saturday 18^th November 2023, at the age of 36 years old, I climbed over those ropes once more at the Sandee Ultimate Fight Night. After five tough rounds against a game opponent, my hand was raised in victory. The “Bearded Ninja” was back.

Why?

Why did I decide to do this? Why did I decide to get back in the ring in my mid-thirties, four years after my last bout?

And what did I learn along the way?

Perhaps most importantly, what comes next?

The Why

The vast majority of my time in Muay Thai was spent at the infamous Shor Chana gym, in Preston, under the tutelage of the legendary Master Chana.

This gym sadly closed, and Master Chana is enjoying a well-earned retirement. I have known Tommy and Alice Johnson for a long time, having trained with Tommy at Shor Chana for several years, and leapt at the opportunity to come onboard with the new gym they were opening, Johnson’s Muay Thai.

In all honesty, I had this idea of coming back to fighting but it never really became concrete, just an abstract notion and, as time went on, I felt myself drifting further and further away from the idea.

Eventually, I had all but concluded that I was done with fighting.

What changed?

I did.

I got stronger and healthier, mentally as much as physically. I improved my Muay Thai for the first time in a while – now that I was back training regularly and surrounded by a growing team of aspiring fighters.

The people around me gave me a push too, with lots of consistent, gentle (and some not so gentle) encouragement. And, when the right moment came, someone I respect called me out on an excuse I was making. I had convinced myself that I wouldn’t have the time to get enough training in with all my coaching, that my job wouldn’t allow me to take on the stress and fatigue I had experienced in previous fight camps and still perform at work. This person simply asked if that was really true. And then I had to actually think about it. I realised that maybe it wasn’t true because a fight camp now would not look like one did 4-5 years ago.

I had also enjoyed the privilege of being part of the corner team at numerous fight events, with an active and ever-growing fight team. After a good 12+ months of this, I suddenly realised I had the bug back. I loved going to the shows and being a part of it all, but I wanted more. I wanted to experience being in the middle of it all too, not just in the background.

The more I thought about it, the more and better reasons I found to make the comeback.

They say that the biggest deathbed regrets are always the “what if” questions, the regret of an action not taken. I didn’t want to look back and think “what if”. I knew that I hadn’t achieved what I wanted to through fighting and that this would be my last chance to fulfil those aims. I had to take this final opportunity to have a go.

Finally, I was also teaching classes full of fighters, almost none of whom had ever seen me fight. Sure, I sparred with them all regularly, but nothing would cement my position as a fight coach in the eyes of the team than actually seeing me perform in the ring. I always say that I’ll never ask you to do something in training that I wouldn’t do myself, and why shouldn’t this apply to fighting too?

So now I had my “why” – or several of them.

The next question was “how?”

The How

So here I was, 36 years old, with a busy full-time job in which my earnings were directly tied to my performance, alongside several hours a week of PTs and classes. I already felt busy, so how on earth was I meant to get enough training in to be in fight shape? And how could I do that without becoming so fatigued that my work suffered?

I thought back to previous fight camps, during which I would be training as hard as possible six, sometimes seven, days a week, operating on the mentality of making sure I was always “doing more” than my opponent. Early morning runs, 3-hour Muay Thai sessions every night, lots of strength and conditioning on top of it all, the training load on top of full-time employment was insane. This was one of the major obstacles to me making the decision to return.

What changed?

I got some good advice.

Someone pointed out to me that maybe I didn’t need to be training like that anymore. That maybe the 10+ years of training time I had already accumulated would allow me to reach peak condition without the same crazy volume. And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. One lesson I’ve really learned over the past couple years in the simple principle that “the optimum volume of training to achieve the best results is often less than the maximum volume of training that you can survive.” More is not always better.

Even still, I knew I would have to be creative to get enough training in. I already had three strength and conditioning sessions per week locked in, so that front was already sorted. We simply reduced some of the volume and changed the focus from Olympic lifting (in which I had been dabbling) to fight specific work. This was a benefit of having handed over my S&C programming to our dedicated S&C coach – if left to my own devices, I probably would have increased the volume in those sessions, not decreased. That objective and expert 3^rd person view can be incredibly valuable in determining the appropriate training load.

I then leaned on some of my fellow fighters at the gym to have them hold pads for me before class on days where I was teaching. The benefit of a large fight team became so clear here, without them I would have struggled.

Rather than three-hour sessions every night, sometimes my training sessions lasted maybe 20-30 minutes. So, I had to focus on the high-impact, high-return, “big rocks” – the Pareto Principle teaching us that 80% of our results come from 20% of our efforts. So, I focused on getting as much as possible out of that 20%.

Looking back on previous fights, my first weight cut was the easiest, the weight just flying off. After that they got tougher, largely due to my own idiocy in not controlling my eating habits after fights (there’s a big lesson there for upcoming fighters!). But now I’d spent the last three years or so focusing on strength training, building muscle, and eating in a calorie surplus. So now when I dropped my calories a little bit, the weight started to fly off again just like the first time. This made things much easier for me, allowing me to fuel my training properly and eating over 2,000 calories a day throughout almost the entire fight camp.

I made weight pretty comfortably, although a spanner was thrown into the works when my opponent missed weight by almost 3kg! That fight couldn’t proceed but I managed to get a last-minute match up on another show the following week. Two weight cuts in two weeks were certainly not ideal, but I’d done the hard work and I knew I just had to stick to the plan for one extra week.

In the ring, I felt better than I ever have done before. I felt strong and confident. I knew that I was going to win. Not in an arrogant way, not dismissing my opponent, just filled with a quiet confidence that I believe was, at least in part, down to daily affirmations and journalling throughout fight camp. My emotional and psychological growth over the past few years really started to pay off!

What did I learn?

• Focus on the “big rocks” – this is hardly a revolutionary idea and is the go-to of almost any productivity guru or self-help writer but my journey in this fight camp really proved this principle. The Pareto Principle suggests that 80% of our results come from 20% of our efforts, so focusing on that 20% in order to maximise the 80% of results is key. That doesn’t mean that the other 80% of your efforts don’t matter – they do if you want to hit 100% of your potential, and 20% is still a lot – but it does mean that when crunched for time, focusing on a few key fundamentals can get you where you need to be.

• You DON’T have to kill yourself every day in the gym! Fighters work hard. We have to. We are driven to do so, both from natural inclination and the desire to win. A common refrain in combat sports is to assume that whatever you are doing, your opponent is doing more. This is intended to drive you to work harder and longer. In itself, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If you’re going to fight, you damn well better work hard. But this doesn’t mean that every session in fight camp needs to be 110%, especially when you are cutting weight and on a calorie deficit. This will lead only to overtraining, burnout, injury, illness and, paradoxically, less results. Everyone is an individual with different tolerance levels for work capacity, but as general rule, no more than 2-3 sessions a week should be full on, 100%, leave your soul on the gym floor kind of sessions. Most sessions should be around 90% of your capacity – leaving 10% in the tank for tomorrow.

• I mentioned this earlier, but another principle (similar to the above) is that “the optimum volume of training to elicit the desired results < the maximum volume of training you could survive”. Sure, you can survive those 3-hour sessions six days a week, but you might actually be limiting your progress whilst increasing your risk of injury. Training is to stimulate a physical adaptation in your body. Once you have achieved the minimum effective dose for eliciting that adaption, there is little benefit to going beyond it. Doing so will only lead to diminishing returns or even regression, whilst leaving less room for future adaptations

• The importance of the “mental game” – fighting is 90% mental, or so they say. This may seem odd at first, as it appears a distinctly physical activity. And yet, the mind is the greatest limiter on the physical body. The body will only do what the mind believes it can do. Many of us will have seen those fighters who look incredible in the gym but fall apart in the ring and bring a fraction of their ability into the fight. I know this type of fighter well because for a long time I WAS that fighter. Not anymore. Outside of fighting, over the Covid lockdown period, I spent a lot of time focusing on personal growth, psychological development and really working to understand myself. Over the past 12 months, my S&C programming has fed into this growth by merging the mental and the physical to a degree I had not previously considered possible. Altogether, I was able to climb into that ring in a much better mental place than any of my previous fights, feeling calm and confident, and able to display much more of my ability than I had previously.  

So that’s the why, and the how, and what I learned along the way. Only one question remains…what next?

What next?

So, there I was. I’d done it. I’d made my return, got in great shape, and won my fight. I’d proven myself, both to myself, and to my teammates and students. Now I had a choice to make.

I could say, “that’s it then”, rest on my laurels and return to what I was doing previously. Nobody would have judged me for it, I don’t think. And if they did, I wouldn’t care. If you’re going to fight, it better be for your own internal motivations not the approval or validation of others!

I wouldn’t need to worry too much about staying lean – indeed, I’d be back on a calorie surplus, building strength and muscle. Eating and lifting weights – two of the greatest joys in life!

I’d be able to focus on my PTs and coaching.

I’d have free time again for social events, something that always takes a hit when in fight camp.

I wouldn’t have to deal with the stress and anxiety that is an inevitable companion of preparing for a fight.

Seems like a pretty sweet deal, right?

Yet, I knew the moment I stepped out of that ring, flush with the emotions of victory, that I wasn’t done yet. I’d proven that I could fight. But that wasn’t the only aim I’d ever set myself in the ring.

My mind returned to that moment, years ago, when I stood in Shor Chana gym, still a relative beginner, looking up at the section of the wall holding photos of just a handful of Master Chana’s many champions over the years. I swore to myself that, one day, my picture would be on that wall too. This motivation carried me through many years of consistent training.

Alas, with Shor Chana gym no more, that dream can never be fulfilled. Yet, my fighting journey is not over, and neither is this dream. I truly believe that in 2024, I will be able to add another belt to the wall of Johnson’s Muay Thai.

To this end, the number one aim is to stay as active as possible. I’m 36 years old (did I mention that already?) and whilst I feel like I am in great shape, the simple fact is that I am no longer in my 20s and there is only so long I will be able to keep doing this. One or two fights a year would simply not be a worthwhile return on investment, nor would it get me much closer to fulfilling my aims.

That’s why, within mere days of my last fight, I was matched up for another show in February 2024. Whilst, of course, anything can happen and things change quickly, my aim is to fight every 2-3 months throughout 2024. If I can put in some solid performances and get a few consistent wins, there is no reason why I couldn’t be fighting for a legit title by the end of the year.

More than anything, though, I just want to enjoy this journey. Now that I’ve found myself back in the fighter’s life, knowing that my remaining time in that life is limited, I just want to appreciate every moment, all the highs and lows, all the lessons that I will learn. I want to be present and engaged in everything I do. Most of all, I want to ensure that, when I do finally come to the end of my life, of any regrets I may have, this is not one of them.

Why Teach?

The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery.

– Mark Van Doren

In traditional Thai culture, teachers are held in particular esteem and afforded significant levels of respect throughout all levels of society. Teachers pass down the knowledge and skills that younger people will require to make it in the world, knowledge and skills earned by one’s ancestors, and therefore their role is seen as incredibly important in maintaining civilisation. At the end of every school year, the students perform a wai kru (similar to that performed by fighters in the ring) to show their gratitude to their teachers.

Sadly, teachers here in the UK often do not appear to be afforded the same level of respect. However, I’m not going to go into the education system here as it is not what this article is about.

There are more ways to be a teacher than sitting in a classroom marking test papers. In Thailand, the respect shown to teachers extends beyond formal schooling, with your parents held up as your first and most important teachers. Older siblings and other family members can also pass on vital knowledge. Indeed, anyone who passes on some form of knowledge or skill becomes, at least for a moment, kru (teacher). A young nak muay’s first kru is often an older family member, suc h as father, brother or uncle.

In order to properly teach something, one must first understand it. Depending on the particular field, this understanding may be gained more or less through experience (you wouldn’t want to learn car mechanics from someone who has never worked on a vehicle; on the other hand, it’s not easy to get life experience as a sub-atomic particle in order to teach quantum physics!). If you have gained some degree of skill and experience in a field, you may be able to pass that on to others. But why should you even bother doing so?

I’ll talk from my own experience in (of course) Muay Thai.

My first experiences of teaching Muay Thai came at Shor Chana gym, when I started helping Master Chana with the children’s classes. Later on, I was left in charge of the gym whilst Master Chana was away, taking both kids and adults classes for a few months straight. I soon realised just how rewarding an experience this could be. Looking back, those nights were some of the most enjoyable and fulfilling I have had in the many, many nights I have spent at Shor Chana gym.

From a personal point of view, teaching will level up your game. Breaking down techniques for beginners will really force you to understand the techniques from the ground up, perhaps highlighting details you now simply do unconsciously or perhaps never even had to be taught. Finding different ways to explain the same technique or concept so that everyone can understand it will deepen your own understanding immensely. It is something of a cliché for a teacher to say that they learned as much from their students as they had taught them, but there is some real truth to it.

You will deepen your understanding not only of the field in which you are teaching, but your understanding of people and life itself. Communication skills and the ability to understand others are vital life skills that teaching will hone. Teaching will also make you a better student, as you begin to understand the challenges, reasoning and methods of your own teachers better.

Furthermore, teaching is an incredibly rewarding experience. No matter what frustrations and obstacles faced along the way, when you see someone grow and develop and you know that you played a fundamental role within it, you will feel a sense of accomplishment that might even outstrip what you would feel if you had achieved it yourself. I have long said and believed that if I could help even just one person derive a fraction of the benefits from Muay Thai that I have enjoyed, it would be a worthwhile thing to do.

Teaching is a selfless act, no matter how rewarding you find it (or if you’re getting paid for it), and it is within such selfless acts of service that meaning and purpose can best be found. It is all well and good, and necessary, to have your own personal goals to achieve. Yet the importance of those goals is swiftly overshadowed by the desire to help your students attain their own goals.

Does this mean that everyone should teach?

No, but also in some way, yes.

Why not?

Well, not everyone is suited to teaching. Not everyone has the requisite personality traits to make a good teacher and may find the experience frustrating and disheartening, and also fail to bring any real value to their students.

It is a common misconception that the most talented people are best placed to teach what they know. Natural talents, whilst no doubt still having to work hard to achieve real success, tend to just get things without much explanation required. Without ever having to break things down to the simple details, they might become frustrated when other students are unable to just get it like they did.   

One should always take care, when teaching, not to step outside of the boundaries of one’s current competence. I have seen relative beginners trying to “teach” things to other beginners that are just plain wrong. Bad habits instilled early on take a lot of work to address. Sometimes, this happens with the best intentions. Sometimes, it happens in order to stroke the ego and assert a level of superiority that is utterly unfitting. You will do no favours to yourself or to anyone else by trying to teach something that is outside of your area of competence. Even if you have some level of competence in something, that doesn’t mean you are competent to teach. I can drive a car, that doesn’t mean I would feel comfortable teaching someone else to drive.

If another student is struggling with something and you are not absolutely sure what is correct, ask a coach to help. That’s what we are here for, and you will save hours of working to undo bad habits once they have been ingrained.

So, what makes a good teacher? I will list a few thoughts below, but this is not an exhaustive list:

• Patience
• Competence in the field being taught
• Understanding of people – the better you understand your students as individuals, the better you will be able to teach them
• A genuine desire to see others succeed
• Control over one’s ego – if the student surpasses the teacher, would you be happy for them? Or secretly resentful?

Why, in some way at least, yes?

We all have our own unique set of skills, competencies, and life experiences. I am a firm believer in the idea that you can learn something from almost anyone. It may not be what you think you want or need to learn. It may not be exactly what that person wishes (or thinks they wish) to teach. It may be something so small and seemingly insignificant that you have to actively look to see it. But assuming that there might be something worth learning from every single person that you encounter is a decent rule of thumb.

Not everyone is built to be a teacher, but we can all learn something from almost anyone. Maybe you’re not in a position to impart a particular skill or knowledge base. You can still teach a thing or two to those around by the way you live your life, the manner in which you comport yourself, how you treat others. Be the example to others around you.

Most of all, stay humble and willing to learn from whatever sources might open to you.

The unwritten rules of Muay Thai

The purpose of this article is to highlight and explain some of the “unwritten rules” that usually apply within a Muay Thai gym. Of course, gyms vary, and there are obvious differences between gyms in Thailand (especially high-level Bangkok fight gyms) and those in the UK and elsewhere, where the majority of students are not fighters. However, there are aspects of Muay Thai culture (and Thai culture in general) that remain infused into the sport beyond the mother country.

There’s no reason to feel anxious or nervous about these “unwritten rules”, you won’t be punished for being unaware of them, but if you want to make the most of your training and contribute to a positive gym culture, it is worth trying to keep these in mind.

A Thai gym isn’t like a Karate Dojo – you won’t need to bow continuously, there isn’t the strict hierarchy openly displayed by the colour of students’ belts, you won’t be expected to learn things by the Thai name or any of that. However, in Thai culture, there exist complex webs of social hierarchy, deference and unspoken rules, which exist in Muay Thai gyms as much as anywhere else.

General rules

Here are a few general pointers, most of which is just common sense really:

1. Be respectful – to your coaches, your training partners, other students, anyone else who happens to be in the gym, and to the gym itself. Respect goes a long, long way. More on that later
2. Be punctual – of course, sometimes life gets in the way and unexpected delays happen, and we’d rather you come late than not at all but try to be punctual for all classes and PTs. Indeed, get there at least 15 minutes early so you have time to sign in, get ready, wrap your hands etc. If nothing else, this too is just about respect for your coaches and other students
3. Be nice – being polite and friendly to other people is not at all out of place in a gym where you are learning how to hurt people. Manners cost nothing
4. Be open to learning – that’s what you’re there for, right? Be open minded, listen to your coaches and more experienced students, set aside your ego and take on a “growth mindset” – that’s the only way you’ll progress
5. Don’t be a bully – nobody likes a bully, and that includes fighters. And in a gym full of trained fighters, it is only a matter of time before a bully gets a taste of their medicine. I’ve seen it happen

With those in mind, I’m going to take a look at a few more specific situations you will find yourself in during training and a few things to keep in mind.

Pad work

We all love hitting pads…if we didn’t, we probably wouldn’t be doing Muay Thai! Less people love holding pads, whether through disinclination or simply not being sure how to do it correctly. But pad work requires two to tango.

1. When you are hitting pads, respect the pad holder. It doesn’t matter if it’s a coach, a fighter, or another student of any level. They are taking the time to help you get a good training session. Show gratitude. Say thank you afterwards
2. When you are holding pads, put the same kind of effort in that you do when hitting them. Don’t just stand there mindlessly holding random shots. Work hard to improve your pad holding skills. One of the best things I did early for my development was get good at holding pads. It meant that people far more experienced than me wanted to train with me as I could hold for them to a decent level, helping me progress much faster

Sparring

Sparring should be fun, as when you are having fun – especially when you reach that “flow” state – you will learn much better and develop faster. We’ve all seen the “gym war” videos on social media, and while heavier sparring has its place for fighters and advanced students, most sparring in Muay Thai should be light, playful and controlled. When trading kicks and knees, it is easy to get yourself hurt if you go too hard, and if you get injured your training suffers.

1. Modify power level to match the size and experience of your sparring partner – this goes doubly when a male is sparring with a female. We should all be capable of the control to spar appropriately with someone much smaller than us
2. It isn’t a fight. Sure, when both partners are of a similar size and experience level, a bit of healthy competition is good. But sparring is not fighting. It isn’t about winning; it is about learning. Leave your ego at the door
3. Have fun. Smile, laugh, try new things. This is much easier to do when the above points are followed

Clinching

Nothing brings people closer than the clinch…right?

The Muay Thai clinch is really an art form within an art form. It takes a while to get the hang of but once you do, it is a lot of fun. Unless you’re getting shark tanked (you stay in against two or three others rotating quickly, so they stay fresh whilst you fatigue). Being in a shark tank isn’t fun, unless you’re a bit of a masochist. But I think we all probably are to some degree, that’s why we love Muay Thai.

1. Personal hygiene. This is a general point but applies tenfold when clinching. Nobody likes to clinch with the guy who has bad BO. Take a shower before training, especially if you have a physical job during the day. And keep your nails trimmed. Nothing worse than having someone raking your neck with talons for fingers
2. The “thigh knee” – your knee is sharp and bony. No getting around that, and its why it can be such a devastating weapon. But we don’t want to be getting hurt in training, and even just bruised ribs can take you out for a week or more. Rather than digging the point of the knee into your partners ribs, slab with the inside of the thigh. That way, you can put a bit extra power in without hurting them, making it better conditioning
3. Get up. When training clinch, there’s a good chance you might get dumped on your ass. Get up and get straight back at it. Train yourself not to show frustration or tiredness. Then, when you get dumped on your ass in the ring, you will react the right way
4. Just clinch. Sometimes, people try to avoid actually getting in the clinch, moving away, pushing their partner back or grabbing the wrists. The point of clinch training is to get good at clinching, not good at avoiding it. Grab the neck and go to work

Respect

A common theme across these “unwritten rules” is that of respect. Indeed, most of these rules come down to showing respect for others and the gym itself. In Thai culture, respect and deference is central. The term “wai kru” – part of the pre-fight ritual performed by fighters – translates as “respect to teacher.” When you step into the ring, you are not only representing yourself but also your gym, your coaches, the sport of Muay Thai and even, in international bouts, your country. Showing respect to those things which have helped you reach that point is critical.

It is obvious to most why we should show respect to other people, and most of us do it without even thinking as that is the way we were raised. However, one thing that may not be so obvious is respect for the gym itself and the equipment within it.

Think of it this way, without pads, gloves, punch bags, and the space provided by the gym, how good would your training be? These things are as important as good coaches and training partners. In Thailand, especially poorer gyms where fighters often must share equipment, it is expected that fighters treat that equipment with respect. This manifests in things such as giving a “wai” (bow) to a punch bag before you start hitting it, same as you would to your pad man. Another thing (which was pointed out to me whilst in Thailand) was refraining from doing things like throwing gloves and shin pads around, instead taking the time to carefully place them back where they should be.

How would this idea manifest in a gym outside Thailand? Here’s a few pointers:

1. When using any shared equipment such as bags or weights, use them properly, do not mess around on them and put them back where you found them afterwards. This goes too with borrowed equipment such as gloves and shin pads
2. Clean up after yourself – we should all be doing this in our day-to-day life anyway, but it often seems to go by the wayside in the gym. Empty water bottles? Put them in the bin. Used the toilet? Make sure you leave it in the condition in which you found it. Go the extra mile and clean up even when the mess isn’t yours
3. If you have kids who come to the gym with you, make sure they behave appropriately and safely

This isn’t an exhaustive list, but don’t feel overwhelmed by these unwritten rules – just focus on being polite and respectful, working hard and showing discipline, and you won’t go far wrong. Model your behaviour on the coaches and more experienced students. And if in doubt, ask.

Die Tomorrow, Live Forever

Your hands are bound in a mixture of tape and bandage, so solid you feel as though you could punch straight through a brick wall.

Your body is slick with Thai oil and Vaseline, your muscles warm and limber, ready for action.

You pace back and forth, incapable of stillness as your nervous system kicks into high gear.

From outside of the room, you can hear the roar of the crowd, the high-pitched din of the Thai music, perhaps even the thud of impacts as two competitors go toe-to-toe.

The energy in you builds as your adrenal system comes alive, the pit of nerves deep in your stomach churning.

Your corner laces up your gloves and your trainer approaches, mongkon in hand. In reverential silence, the traditional Thai headdress is placed on your crown, a quick prayer muttered over it.

It is almost time. The previous bout is coming to its conclusion and, within the next few minutes, you will be stepping into the ring. Facing you will be another human being, perhaps a total stranger, perhaps not. Two arms and two legs, just like you, a sack of meat and bone, hopes and dreams and fears, habits and impulses and neuroses. This person has been at the periphery of your thoughts for weeks, the knowledge of this impeding clash a shadow over each and every minute, both in and out of the gym.

The call comes. Your next out. The moment is here. It is too late to back out, too late to come up with an excuse. You’re staring into the abyss. What stares back, is a reflection of your true self.

Why do we fight?

What right-minded person would voluntarily put themselves in a position to be hit with punches, kicks, knees, and elbows? Why would anyone choose to risk being cut, beat up or knocked out, with a crowd of onlookers to boot? What does someone gain from dedicating weeks, months, and years to a gruelling training regimen and strict diet, just to have a fight with a complete stranger at the end of it all?

These are, in truth, completely valid and understandable questions. The answers, on the other hand, are perhaps not so obvious.

The only style of muay thai is ‘Thai style’

‘THAI STYLE’ VS ‘DUTCH’/’BRAZILIAN’ /AMERICAN ETC

When discussing muay thai, you will often hear the phrase “Dutch style,” usually in reference to its’ differences from a “Thai style.” You may even hear of a “Brazilian style” or “American style.”

This may upset a few people, particularly those that fight in a “Dutch style” or “Brazilian style”, but the truth is- the only style of muay thai is “Thai style.” If you say you do “Dutch style muay thai”, sorry, you do Dutch style kickboxing. NOT muay thai.

Now, before I get any hate from the keyboard warriors, let’s take a quick look at what I mean by this, starting by looking at what these ‘styles’ actually represent.