Faber Urijah - The Laws of the Ring

The Laws of the Ring

Urijah Faber with Tim Keown

This book is dedicated to my family: My amazing mom, Suzanne; my carefree pop, Theo; and my fearless stepdad, Tom. My brother, Ryan, and my sister, Michaella. Rhino and KK, you have inspired me with your fighting spirit. You have both pushed through adversity that I may never fully experience or truly understand. Mom, Pop, and Tom, thank you for all the guidance through the good and the difficult! We have all grown stronger together. Love you guys.

Special thanks to all the teachers and coaches throughout my life, and Jim and Renata Peterson for their help in mapping out this book.

Contents

THE LAWS OF POWER

M eet Jay Valencia, my first professional opponent: wide, strong, mean-looking. The first thing I notice is the tattoo across his stomach: PRIDE in Old English font. He has clearly seen more than me, experienced more than me, struggled more than me. The bend in his nose tells me all I need to know on those counts.

And those eyesdamn, those eyes are something else. Theyre wide and wild under his shaved head. They are fixed on mine, but I get the feeling theyre not really focused. He is looking but not looking, which could be intimidating if Id allow it. Tattooed like the ex-con he isnt, muscled like a bodybuilder, he is jumping around like a maniac. He is looking at me the way I imagine a fox looks at a crippled hen.

I look at the people in the stands and wonder how every roughneckand his motherfound his way to the Colusa Casino, dropped down in the middle of rice fields and orchards north of Sacramento, California. Theyre here to watch something thats illegal everywhere in California but on sovereign Indian land. Maybe the semi-illicit nature of the spectacle has them amped up, or maybe its the booze or whatever else is coursing through their veins. This is the Wild West of cage fighting, back before rules and money took MMA mainstream. These people are screaming and pounding the chairs, dying to see blood spilled. Tough-looking guys and tougher-looking girls, they look ready to fight, too, with eyes every bit as crazily detached as Valencias. Teeth, I notice, seem optional.

Heres what these people see: a smiling, clean-cut, blond kidfresh out of collegefacing a tough, hardened Mexican. They see scars and tattoos on one side, shiny white teeth and no tattoos on the other. Everything society has taught them leads them to one conclusion: The college kid is going down, hard, and its not going to be pretty.

Its the same thing Valencia sees. He sees someone he can intimidate, then destroy. Theres nothing in his or anyone elses frame of reference that would lead them to believe anything else is possible. The tough barrio guy wants it more. He needs it more. Hes overcome obstacles in his life, making him hungrier and more desperate.

What are the stakes? If the clean-cut college graduate loses, he might give up fighting and get a job with an investment bank, or make a career out of coaching college wrestling. If the other guy loses, who knows? He doesnt want to think about it, which is one more reason to believe hes going to mop the floor with the college kid.

Valencia is supposed to hold the power in this human dynamic. He has seen more and done more and has more to lose. Society tells me, in a whispery, judgmental tone, that I should be doing something better with my life. It tells me I should be embracing the advantages Ive been afforded. I should be putting my college degree to good use with a solid, well-paying job with benefits and a clear path to advancement. I should be looking to buy a new car and maybe a house. I should be putting money away for my retirement and to fund the college educations of the kids I dont yet have.

Wherever I should be, I shouldnt be here, standing inches away from Jay Valencias murderous eyes. This is something guys like me wouldnt do on a dare, and definitely wouldnt do for the small payout Ive been promised.

Society has trained people to get Jay Valencia. They understand what hes doing here, and why hes doing it, and whats at stake. But what about me? What to make of this guy? Jay Valencia might look crazy, but these fansincluding my buddies from collegeare thinking Im the truly crazy one. Im the one they dont understand, because everything theyve read or heard or seen about sports, especially fighting sports, tells them Im here on a lark, and Jay Valencias here for keeps.

True or not, these are the unspoken messages emanating from the cage in the moments before the fight. As I walk toward the cage, Im not scared or intimidated. However, one thought ricochets through my brain.

Why the hell did I get myself into this?

As soon as I step into the cage, that thought changes into something far different.

This dude is going down.

I believe there are laws at work in human interaction. These are laws that dictate success or failure, laws that portend a life of happiness or a life of regret. Put simply, they are Laws of Power. They are equally relevant to a salesman and a professional fighter. They work in the office or out. By maximizing your Laws of Power, you will lead a happier, more fulfilling life.

Youd be surprised how much you can learn when you make it your profession to stand in an enclosed cage with another man, with the intention of defeating him by simulating his murderby strangulation, knockout, submissionthe best you can. Its the history of the world compressed into a series of five-minute rounds: strength, wits, gamesmanship, creativity, adaptabilityits all on display.

And if youre observant and introspective, you can learn quite a bit. For instance, the way people carry themselves tells a lot about them. A fighter who comes into the cage talking garbage is telling me right away hes insecure, not sure of either his talent or his preparation. Theres no need to talk; were all dressed up to fight, so what good are words? What are you going to do, call me out? We have the means of settling it right in front of us. Were about to fight, so shut your mouth or expose yourself and your insecurities.

There are messages everywhere, some hidden, some not.

I must admit, a cage fight inside the Colusa Casino ballroom, at an event called The Gladiator Challenge, is a strange place to begin a book intended to teach you how to find your passion and incorporate it into your life. If you were expecting a clear blue sky and a sandy beach, I apologize in advance.

But that nightthe night of November 13, 2003was the night my passion began to lead me. It was the night my life opened to the possibilities of following a dream even when it seemed outlandish and impossible. The events of that night set in motion a series of events I couldnt possibly have imagined.

The seeds for the Laws of Power were planted that night. Every one of them was in play at some point before, during, and after my fight with Jay Valencia. That night a rock was thrown into the water, and the ripples emanating from it tell the story you are about to read.

The lessons I learned are still with me, still leading. The laws that grew out of them are as pertinent today as they were then. If you live your life according to these laws, you will be happier and more productive. You will have more power over your life, and you will be more positive and successful.

They helped me, and they can help you.

T here are things Valencia cant tell simply from looking at me, important things that might have changed his attitude some. He doesnt know the surge of adrenaline that shot through my entire body the first time I saw an MMA fight. He doesnt know that my commitment to the sport means I will attack him with single-minded devotion and a cold-blooded intensity that belie my looks. He doesnt know the words that are running through my mind as he is bouncing around and staring me down. As we stand waiting for the bell, any doubt or reserve is purged from my system. As I look into Valencias wild, crazed eyes, there is just one thought remaining inside the mind of the pretty-boy blond college kid: