It's a really odd thought when I think about it. Most people would think it strange that I have a "favorite" real life knockout experience. And when I think about it they are probably right. I don't care though, it's part of what makes me, me, and I love it. Besides, looking back on it now, it's really arousing.
I've been a competitive martial artist for over 20 years. I started with TKD when I was a kid but moved on to Muay Thai and RyuKyu Kempo when I was in college. I've also done some MMA training. Over these 20 plus years I've won more than I've lost, but competitive fighting has a way of removing any sort of cockiness that might arise. I've knocked girls out cold. It's quite a turn on, for me at least, to see someone lying unconscious and to know that I was the one who knocked them out. Of course they were trying to do the same to me and on more than a few occasions it was me lying unconscious robbed of my senses for anyone that was watching to see. I often wonder if the girls that knocked me out were as turned on by seeing me lying unconscious at their feet as I would have been if the tables were turned. In my wonderfully twisted mind the answer is a definite yes, but that's another topic for another day. This is the story of one of those times.
My gym used to have this cool fun little round robin tournament on Thanksgiving morning. It was a fun event that started early, 7 am, if I remember correctly. The idea, much like a Turkey Trot 5K, was that there would be a fun little tourney, everyone would get some exercise, and some competition and then everyone would go home and enjoy Thanksgiving with their families. People often had their families come watch the tournament and then everyone would go home together. That's what my partner Jess and I were planning. Jess is not a fighter but is entirely supportive of my endeavors. This was to be our first time hosting our families for Thanksgiving. And, for two lesbians from large Irish Catholic families that's a pretty big deal. The plan was to watch me fight then go out and have breakfast before coming over to Jess' and my house later that day. I had a pretty big turn out to watch me fight, Jess, my parents, her parents, my two sisters and their husbands, and Jess' sister. The tournament wasn't going to be long - on the women's side there were only 8 fighters. This was not a big event and not like anything you see on TV. No one fighting was a professional fighter. We were all amateurs of various but comparable skill levels and we all had regular jobs.
I remember standing waiting for my first fight to begin. Standing at the edge of the square mat with the round circle inside of it jumping on my toes trying to stay lose while looking across the mat at my opponent who was doing the same. I recognized her from various tournaments but had never fought her. She was a brunette roughly my same size (or we wouldn't have been fighting). As I stared at her I visualized myself knocking her out with a solid roundhouse kick to the head her limp body falling at my feet. I always pictured myself winning. I never thought about losing - doing so would guarantee it. Fighters always picture themselves winning. There was no reason for me to think otherwise. I was in great shape and had been training hard. I was wearing what I always wore to fight - black sports bra and black spandex shorts. Back then my hair was shorter. It was still one length with no bangs but it wasn't long enough to pull back in a ponytail so I'd slick it back and hold it back with a thin elastic headband. I was ready. I had worked up a light sweat. I felt good and I looked good too. My arms and shoulders cut my abs rock hard I was ready to bang. At this point the fact that my family was there didn't even register. All I saw was the brunette across from me and all I wanted to do was to put her out.
Finally the match started. We walked towards the dot in the center of the circle each one holding a glove out to the other. We tapped gloves and the fight was on. It started slow. We each circled the mat once coming back to our original starting points without having thrown a punch or a kick. We started moving straight towards each other I threw a low leg kick followed by another. She threw a stiff jab that glanced off my gloves. We both took a few steps back after the flurry. I was bouncing on my toes as we moved towards each other again. I threw another low leg kick and we came together. I pushed her back and she stumbled as she took a few steps backward right in front of where my family was gathered watching. She almost stepped off the mat. She seemed unsure and I closed quickly. Her hands were down and I went to throw a right hook when my world exploded in a white flash followed quickly by a few pin pricks of color and everything went black.
Less than 20 seconds into what was supposed to be my first match of a fun little tournament I was lying face down on the mat, arms at my sides, palms of my gloves up, legs slightly spread, face smushed into the blue mat knocked completely unconscious. Right, basically, at the feet of my entire family. In fact I was unconscious before I even hit the mat with what my sister called a thud. There was no stumbling, no effort to break my fall, and for well over a minute no effort at all to get up. I was put to sleep, knocked cold, knocked smooth out - however you want to describe it - that was me. The non technical description of what happened to me was that she had caught me right on the button - my trainer called it my off switch. And, I went was asleep before I hit the mat. What did happen is I got careless and I moved to fast. My opponent wasn't hurt, she had just slipped. In my rush to take her out I was wild with my punch. It was wider and more looping than it should have been and she stepped inside of it and threw a short left cross the landed flush with a thump right under my jaw/chin. As it was described to me, my head twisted back and to the left. My arms immediately went limp and fell to my sides. In one motion my knees bent and I fell forward. For a brief second my knees contacted the mat first followed by the rest of me falling face first with my arms at my sides. I hit the mat with a thud face first and did not move. Knocked cold.
So there I am. Unconscious. Lying on my stomach face smushed into the mat. My arms still cut and muscular, but lying limply at my sides. My abs still rock hard and my hair still slicked back. The ref motions right away for my trainer to come onto the mat. There was no need to count. I was asleep and even if I did manage to wake up before she counted to 10 (which I wouldn't have) the match was over. My trainer took my mouthpiece out while I was till unconscious. The other girl's trainer came out and an EMT came over. About a minute and a half later I was conscious again and about 5 minutes later I was sitting up. I was able to leave the gym under my own power, but instead of going out to breakfast I got a trip to the ER.