Forrest Griffin - Got Fight?: The 50 Zen Principles of Hand-to-Face Combat

Special thanks to Paul Thatcher for the photographs that appear in the insert.

Special thanks to Bret Aita for his editing genius.

Special thanks to Heidi Seibert for all of her efforts to promote this book.

You should be in good physical condition before beginning this or any martial arts program. The author and the publisher assume no responsibility for any injuries suffered or damages or losses incurred during or as a result of following the program in this book.

Many of the names, places, and even facts in this book have been changed to protect Forrest Griffin from getting sued by a bunch of douche bags. Very few small animals were harmed during the making of this book. The ones that were harmed were not in the cute category, so its all good.

We and Forrest had some harsh verbal and physical altercations in the course of selecting a title for this book, which is obviously Got Fight? (If you missed it, we wouldnt go admitting that to anyone because its on the damn cover.) Forrest is a formidable opponentone with devastating leg kicks, sick submissions, and a jaw like a cast-iron stove, but we bite and he tapped out, and we got our wishto call this book Got Fight?, which we think is pretty friggin provocative. But we did agree to note his objection in the beginning of the book. Here is a phone message Forrest left for his editor on New Years Eve 2009 (we suspect that alcohol was involved):

I hate to beat a dead horse but you sound like a woman on your fucking little answering machine there. This is Forrest Griffin, as you can tell Im from fuckin Georgianot just Georgia, FUCKIN Georgia. Got Fight? is not a good title for me. Look, the whole Got Milk? thing was 1994. I actually Googled that shit. Nineteen ninety fuckin four. Its more than a decade past, brother, so, uh, were going to come up with a new title and youre going to develop a manly voice like mine [dark, raspy laugh].

Publishers rebuttal: Got Milk? is still alive and well and milk builds strong, healthy bones, just like Forrests.

Here are Forrests titles, big, tough creative guy that he is:

Who Moved My Nose? (his favorite)

Fist Meets Face

Death Is a Journey and My Bags Are PackedThe Forrest Griffin Story

Punch Drunk

Face Full of Scars

A Few Scars More (assuming we do a sequel)

For some reason, writers like to thank people at the beginning of their books. I understand if the book is really good, like Hemingway good, but what if the book sucks? Im pretty sure that the book you are currently holding will only make you stupider, and I dont want to insult anyone I care about by putting them in the acknowledgments. It would be like dropping a turd into a napkin, setting the greasy bundle on the shelf in a bookstore, and then calling home and saying, Hey Mom, just wanted to thank you for making the dump in a napkin possible. I tried backing out on the acknowledgments altogether, but my publisher used a bunch of big words, like foreclosure of guilt . He said he didnt want people to know the book was a turd in a napkin until after they bought a copy. I then tried to thank a bunch of people I actually hated, you know, to insult them by being associated with this book, but I got shut down (thank you, Satan; thank you, guy who beat me up in the fourth grade, and, thank you, hot chicks who laughed at me in high school). So, I guess I have to thank some of the people I really care about. If you happen to be one of those people (and Im sure you are, because what kind of idiot actually reads the acknowledgments to a book), please, please forgive me.

First and foremost, I would like to thank my mother for pulling me out of the Georgia public school system. It would have been nice if she could have done it before I got my ass kicked forty thousand times, but I guess later is better than never. I would also like to thank Kevin Garnetts mother because she, too, seems to have done a good job. Next, I would like to thank Adam and Rory Singer of the Hardcore Gym. Rory is an awesome friend because he never lets us get overcharged for anything. If we go to eat and our bill is five cents too much, hell raise hell. It doesnt matter if the waitress only weighs a hundred pounds, hell fight the bitch right there on the spot. Adam is the worlds best grappler in the state of Georgia for a period of two or three minutes. After those two or three minutes, he gets up and has a soda Oh, youve almost got that submission, Forrest, think its time to grab a CokeOh, Im sure you could do a lot from that dominant position, but you got to get off me because Im having an asthma attack. Best go get a Diet Dr Pepper . In addition to showing me the tricks of the grappling trade, he has also been my primary source for reading recommendations. Hes the guy who turned me on to Fight Club before the movie came out. I also admire him for the direction finder built into his head. Under the influence of extreme amounts of alcohol, he not only has the uncanny ability to find the rent-a-car, but he can also take us from any strip club back to the hotel. Seriously, every one in the car could be completely lost, and he just points off into the darkness of night and goes, I think home is somewhere over there. Everything about the guy is impressive, but his biggest accomplishment to date is inventing the acronym MILF . Some people might doubt this, but swear to God, he was using that shit ten years before American Pie.

The last guy I would like to thank is my editor, Adam Korn. Originally, there were twenty editors who wanted to work on this book, but he bested all of them in an illegal cage match. I just recently learned that 90 percent of editors are women, so Im not sure of the kind of competition he faced, but I can honestly say this book would not have been written without him. Adam Korn is a unique martial artist in that hes not fat, forty years old, and into brainwashing kids. He understands the mind-set of a fighter and helped shape, write, and edit this book from beginning to end. (Fuck you, Adam. I want the thirty-eight bucks you promised me for writing this horsecrap acknowledgment. Im coming for you, bitch. Im coming!)

All the really cool roller coasters of the world require you to be a certain height to experience their awesomeness. In no way is my book as cool as a roller coaster, but nevertheless, I have imposed a restriction on those of you who are attempting to read it. I dont give a shit about how tall you are or how much you weigh. I dont even care if youre into really weird shit, like burning your nipples and stuff. All I care about is your manliness. I mean, how would it make me look if a bunch of sissies were reading my book in between their pillow fights? Not too good, thats how. So before I fill that empty brain of yours with all sorts of smart things, Im going to give you a test, much like the tests Cosmo gives to women. And shut the fuck up about how I know such tests exist. Its called research, dumb-ass. So anyway, instead of testing whether or not your lover is worthy, Im going to test your testosterone levels. If youre a woman, I dont want to hear your sniveling. There are a lot of women out there who are manly, so you best sprout a hairy sac in a hurry. This book is about guy shit.