This is a short article written by Mr. Dark (formerly known as Maeo), who is an old friend of mine, currently petitioning to the Brotherhood of the Falcon. He's always been a talented fighter, but has also suffered from a history of temper flare-ups. Here is a look into how one can temper their flames, even when they burn brightest, and even in those for whom the inferno threatens to consume them.
***
"At Wolfpack Opener I was not in a great mental place. I was moody, angry, and, simply put, looking for an excuse to go hard on someone. Anyone at all. Not quite the way you want to be at the first major Midwest event of the year. Then a unit mate of mine struck me in the noggin. Not on purpose of course, but a solid shot to the dome still instigates those fight or flight signals, no matter the reason. The rage burned brighter. So, I tossed my weapons to the ground and took a walk.
The freezing cold of Illinois gnawed on my flesh as I marched to the cadence of my self-loathing. Christ. I wanted to tear a fucker's head off. The more I walked, the cooler my temperament became. The rage retreating deep into the recesses of my mind for warmth. I found myself back at the entrance to the gym. Feeling my in self-imposed exile was served (and tired of the bone-chilling winter of the 'nois), I returned to the event. The battle I left was still going strong and my equipment lay in the center of the field where I'd abandoned them. I slowly navigated through the sidelines of the field, holding my head high and my shoulders back despite the massive chip that still sat there.
I pushed my weapons off the field and began strapping on my gloves and picking up my shield. Then I noticed something. Peeking through a door stood a gaggle of little girls, eyes wide and amazed at the chaos. The most excited of the group (and presumed leader) spoke up.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Having a sword fight," I replied.
"Why?"
"Because it is fun." I declared.
In agreement the leader threw up her arms and her cohorts nodded.
"Does it hurt?" another asked.
"No," I replied and I handed the gaggle my club to inspect. I explained the game as a massive pillow fight, which seemed to satisfy them. Itching to return to combat, I waved good-bye and told them to enjoy their day as I went to rejoin the mock mass-murder. The children's eyes returned to the field, no longer seeing chaos, but organized play fighting.
My day improved, having had to confront what I do and why I do it on its very simplest terms. I believe that gaggle of girl children, dressed all in fluorescent pink and silver, were sent by the universe to remind me of that. Sword fighting is fun. All of it. The beautiful choices of garb. The Ferrari bright weapons. The fancy kung-fu footwork. The over the top deaths. The satisfaction of a surgically precise shot. The shock of bone-crushing shield bashes. The fun in all its forms.
Human beings have a way of over-complicating things. It's in our nature. Our brains are perpetual thought machines, and mind tends to steer towards the melodramatic. If you ever feel yourself getting frustrated by this game (and if you are reading this, you are playing enough to where that is a certain possibility), do yourself a favor and take a walk. Explain to seven-year-old-you how you grew up to be a warrior slaying kin on a battlefield. And I dare you not to smile."
***
Anger is a problem that we all suffer from occasionally. Nobody is perfect, and everyone has things that set them off. The truth is: we're playing a combat sport. There is always going to be the potential for anger and frustration, but it is very important to remember that you do this for enjoyment. Sportsmanship must be maintained, even (or perhaps especially) against those we might not like much. Every single person who stands on the field is out there to enjoy themselves, and nobody wants to go home hurt at the end of the day.
The game is about fighting, but it's the people who make the experience mean something. If you find yourself frustrated or upset, remove yourself from the field before you hit your breaking point. No good comes of continuing to swing a stick while your temper crescendos. Folks don't want to fight against rage-beasts any more than they want to fight against cheaters, so don't be that guy/girl. Take a walk, get some fresh air, and try to clear your mind before returning every time. Even if you already have a reputation for a short-temper, it's never too late to change that. Make a special effort to treat others on the field exactly the way you'd want to be treated. Accidental head shots happen in both directions, and I'm sure you'd rather not have every single person you accidentally hit in the head blow up screaming at you.
I personally have made special effort to curb my own hotheadedness, which used to be a defining feature of my attitude and fighting long years back. In fact one of my apprentices tells me that his earliest observations of my shouting and anger left him with as strong an impression as my skill. But I wanted the game to grow healthily, and so I made a promise to myself to try harder to rise above the hate. For each person who manages their rage, there's another person whose good time won't be dragged to a halt. Fight hard, but fight clean.
-The Golden Lion
Huh... Thanks.
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