I am the middle son, between two skinny ones.
Not that I'm the fattest guy in the world, but I am pretty big. I have no delusions of what I am, and what I look like. Nor do I have and false ideas of who my brothers are in comparison. The two of them are taller and leaner, built like MMA fighters.
In fact that's exactly what they do. The oldest is a skilled and determined guy who has been fighting since he was a kid. There is always a certain mentality that goes with being in Mixed Martial Arts, and this guy has it. The whole idea that he would rather die than lose. Even in small contests, he was crazy. We would play something like chicken and he would go all out.
The object of which would be to punch the other person as hard as one can on the arm, then wait for them to do the same. Then start over again. After a few rounds, The arm starts to become raw, and then people lose all desire to even win. Because winning requires one to lose their arm in the process.
My older brother, being the man of iron that he was, never lost a game. He would simply take the pain and move on. Luckily the idea of inflicting pain n me was more exciting than the sting of my hits, so it was easy for him to continue.
He would take in as much pain as possible as long as there was a promise of inflicting as much possible on the other person. This is why he does so well at Muay Thai, kick boxing and Brazilian jujitsu. This is why when he kicked another fighter in the face in round one and broke his foot on the dudes face, he simply shook it off. Not only did he just shake it off and go into the second, but he won the whole fight! The guy is nuts.
My younger brother is the most stubborn and In-Your-Face fighter ever. The second a fight begins, he is wrapping his arms around an opponent and doesn't let go to save his life. He reminds me of a sloth clinging to a tree. If sloths were trying to break trees' arms off.
I have personally pinned the kid to the ground and had my arms around his neck and he refused to tap. Just when I had a victory under my belt, he does some ridiculous flip and ends up putting me into an arm bar. He would rather look like a red fish sucking in for air, letting he complexion turn to a nice shade of purple than to tap on his own. The only way to win against his is to actually make his pass out.
Now, this is not really a story about my brothesr, but about my dad. The thing is, my brothers are a lot like my dad when he was younger. Tall, lengthy and always willing to fight. I know my dad is proud of this, I kinda envy that as well. The idea that my dad is proud of those to because of how God put them together kinda, just kinda, gets under my skin.
Please do take this as a rant on how much my dad loves my brothers, and not me. It has nothing to do with the fact that my older brother got all the opportunities and my little brother gets all the attention and I get left in the dust. Or how my younger brother got away with everything, and my older brother got all the cool new stuff. I simply got the hand me downs and got sent to my bed room.
This isn't about how I spent my childhood feeling like the freaking hunch back of notre dame, while my brother were like... that guy... from that movie... the really good looking one, that gets the girls.
Ok, well it kinda is. My dad loves me, and would die for me and he does treat me extremely well. I love him very much, and most of the feelings I laid out were fabrications. but this is a story of how my dad publicly acknowledged that I was his worst son.
He and I sat in the "Animal house" MMA gym watching my brothers spar. Dad was considering getting my younger brother a membership there, and the little kid was enjoying the free lessons. I was checking the place out and getting a feel of the fighters. It's pretty cool to watch some of the fighst, when all I've seen was UFC. It's amazing to see the talent that the biggest fighting organization in the world is missing. Maybe one day, I will see one of those fighters on the under-card or something, maybe.
While I sat there watching the fights, The lead Instructor came out and struck up a conversation with my dad. It was a civil discussion, on the way the gym looked, and how long they had been in the area. The instructor's nick name was "The Animal", which is why the MMA gym was called "The Animal House". I only explain this, because it took me FAR to long to figure it out on my own. and I don't want anybody to feel as dumb as I did.
Animal and my dad talked on about the career that Animal had. Fighting in small stuff and large events a like. Even getting to the point of fighting in the UFC as an under card. Some of the stories were fascinating, the people that he, not only knew, but had put into submission were crazy. Surely enough the conversation turned to my younger brother, and the possibility of getting him a membership. It was the real reason that Animal had approached my Dad in the first place, and I could see that, but it didn't make his stories any less invigorating.
My dad then started to speak on what he was interested in seeing my younger brother doing, and tied it into a couple stories of his time as a boxer. He then started to brag on the two sons he had in the cage.
"These two really have a lot of the same traits that guys from my family do." he said. Speaking like a promoter for a boxer.
"They have the tall lengthy build that helps in MMA and, I can see that it really helps in fighting. They are strong and agile and have really profound skills."
This is where it happened,one of the most entertaining moments of my life. Only because to this day, I simply refuse to allow my dad off the hook. reminding him of his blunder every chance I get.
What my dad wanted to say at that point, as he turned and looked at me was, with me sitting alone in a chair, as big as I am in comparison to just about every living person in that building.
"Unfortunately Tyler got the bigger genes of the family. Really strong, really balanced, but bigger."
I know this because we have had this conversation before. It's not just wishful thing on my part, hoping my dad wanted to say something nice about me. I had heard this sort of thing being said before.
Now here is the problem, Animal had no idea who I was. for all he knew I was a fat stalker watching the beautiful people sweat. This a cured to my dad at some point. unfortunately it was a little to late. He had committed to one sentence, but decided to introduce me at the same time. so what he ended up saying was...
"UNFORTUNATELY, This is my middle son Tyler."
The air was silent. he knew what he had said. he knew that I had heard, and Animal was simply looking at the fat kid sitting by himself. The only thing that could have made the picture better is if I was wearing a spinning top hat, and holding an ice cream cone.
I simply smiled and looked at Animal. It didn't faze me in the least, I opened my my mouth an replied.
"You see how he introduces me to the out side world? this is why I don't come out very often."
T.W. Clawson
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