Dhani Jones - The Sportsman: Unexpected Lessons from an Around-the-World Sports Odyssey

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didnt do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. xplore. Dream. Discover.

Mark Twain

T he man sitting across from me is bleeding.

The blood is pouring from his nose and leaking out of his eyes. Both of his orbital sockets have been fractured, causing his face to cave in like it was made of wet cardboard. Its going to take emergency surgery to restore it. Im not sure restore is even the right word. Theres no way his face is ever going to look the same.

The man isnt a stranger. Weve been training together for a week here in Phnom Penh, where Im learning pradal serey, an ancient Cambodian form of kickboxing. Each day our teacher, or kruu, Long Salavorn, has led us through a battery of drills and exercises in preparation for an actual fight against a real opponent.

Another man sitting next to me has just finished his. Hes been training for a lot longer than a week.

I dont know where my kruu is right now. No one seems able to explain his absence, at least not in English. A trainer I have never met before is rubbing a mysterious oil into my shoulders. When he finishes, he clears his throat and spits on my back.

For good luck, he insists.

A kid, also a stranger, is wrapping my hands with tape. Hes nervous, and its not at all clear to me that he knows what hes doing. A million thoughts are running through my head, not the least of which is Why?

Then its time to put those thoughts away. Its my turn to get into the ring.

T here was a time, not that long ago, when a certain kind of man, usuallylets be honesta very rich and very white man, would test his mettle on safari. Armed with a gun, his wits, and maybe a local guide to get him from here to there, he travelled into the wilderness on the hunt for dangerous prey. Afterward, he could share his stories with the fellows at the lodge or decorate his game room with stuffed heads and elephant tusks.

Youd call that man a sportsman.

For the sportsman, killing the beast was only a small part of the experience. The hunt was also about feeling a heightened sense of adrenaline. Facing his fears. Getting outside his comfort zone. He might even connect with his prey in a way that taught him something new about himself. While his focus couldnt have been narrowerfind and kill the target the activity itself opened up a whole new world of ideas and emotions.

I dont own a gun, and Ive never killed anything larger than a fly. But that doesnt mean I havent wanted to. The same impulses and emotions that fueled the sportsman flow through my mind and body when Im pursuing a running back, shredding a fresh layer of snow, or competing in a sport that, a week earlier, was completely unfamiliar to me. The thrill of the hunt never lasts for long, but its lessons do strengthening my body, mind, and soul.

Nobody lives forever. Nowhere is that more evident than in the NFL. Forget National Football Leaguemost players will tell you it really stands for Not For Long. The average career doesnt last 4 years.

I just finished my 11th season. Im a middle linebacker, not just a starter but defensive captain of the Cincinnati Bengals, having led the team in tackles for each of the past four seasons.

Four seasons ago, football gave every indication of being done with me. I was cut by both the Philadelphia Eagles and the New Orleans Saints, and none of the nibbles from other squads seemed to be panning out. While other players were studying playbooks and dreaming about the Super Bowl, I was staring at the Pacific Ocean, trying to figure out what I was going to do with the rest of my life. Maybe it would be public speaking, or a job with one of the networks. I could devote more time to my business interests, like the bow tie and advertising companies Id started, or to my growing interest in photography. Hell, Hollywood was only an hour northmaybe Id become an actor.

Instead I got a call from the Bengals, and when a few injuries created an opportunity for me, I suddenly found myself with a starting job. Even more surprising was how prepared I wasphysically, mentally, spirituallyto step into the role, a reinvention and rebirth of my career.

I have to credit my off-season.

For some players, the off-season means rest and relaxation. A more dedicated player might hire a personal trainer, start a new work-out regimen, or change his diet.

For me, the off-season means playing rugby in London, cricket in Jamaica, and jai alai in the Basque country of Spain. Ive had dozens of fights: Muay Thai boxing in Bangkok, lutte wrestling in Senegal, and schwingen in Switzerland. Ive raced bicycles up the mind-numbingly steep Italian Alps and dragon boats through the canals and quays of Singapore. Ive practiced sambo in Russia and the ancient art of pradal serey in Cambodia. Ive even climbed most of the way up Mount Everest.

Since were being honest, I can tell you that I didnt do these things as part of some grand scheme to extend my career; I did them for a TV show. Dhani Tackles the Globe. The premise was pretty simple: Id travel to a place, spend a week learning a local sport (and, since it was for the Travel Channel, explore the culture, customs, and cuisine), then compete against some of the native residents.

But what does it mean to tackle the globe? To grab hold of it and wrestle it into submission? Thats what I thought, at first anyway. Me against the world. You want to compete? Bring it on. Throw your worst at me; Ill just turn on my apeshit switch and knock you back with something stronger.

Only a very strange thing happened along the way: I discovered that I was cross-training in ways I never would have imagined.

I became physically stronger, carrying 300-pound rocks in Iceland and grinding sails off New Zealand. I increased my mental toughness by crashing skulls with rugby players in England and by pushing myself to ride up a 10 percent grade for 20 miles during a 100-mile bicycle race in Italy. I learned about honor and tradition while hurling in Ireland, and how the Thai use their age-old style of kickboxing to balance the warrior spirit with the sage. Experiencing the close-knit connection among the Basque helped me to reignite my own passion for family and friends; a trip to Senegal allowed me to reconnect with my ancestry. Ive overcome language, economic, and racial barriers to build camaraderie with hundreds of people whose lives are radically different from my own, communicating through humanitys most primal and universal language competition.

As I started to compete with everyone, I discovered that it wasnt just about beating the other guy, but about connecting in a way that allowed me to learn something about myself. The world might try its hardest to kick my ass, serving up black eyes, busted lips, and the occasional fall from a horse, but it wasnt trying to take me out.

The world wanted to be my teacher, as long as I was willing to pay attention to the lessons.

A week is not a long time to spend in a place. Engaging with new people and places through competition, however, can be a kind of shortcut, slicing through language and cultural and social differences to find the common denominators that make us human.