When I First Met Dieselnoi - A Giant In My Soul (Patreon Article) (Patreon)

There’s a looming feeling that comes from standing in front of huge, empty buildings. How many millions of people flock to the Colosseum in Rome, to stand in that architectural giant and feel the sheer awe of what it was. The spectre of spectators filling the stands. For me, it would be a nightmare. Kevin and I are outside of Chiang Mai’s biggest sport venue, the “700 Year Stadium” with these mossy, green mountains as the backdrop. In Thailand, most of the venues are quite small, even the most celebrated National Stadia in Bangkok - Lumpinee and Rajadamnern. You’d be surprised. It’s the gamblers screaming and cheering, wall of sound that they create when even a section of the stands is at capacity. But the buildings themselves, the actual space when you’re inside them, are moderate.

The 700 Year Stadium is huge. It’s huge outside, it’s huge inside, and right now it’s empty so it feels like this vacant cavern. When I was in college I went on a cruise for my grandmother’s birthday. I’d never been on a ship before that and grew up in Colorado, in a valley embraced by the rocky arms of big, beautiful mountains. When I stood on the deck of that ship, looking out over the endless flat water, it freaked me out. There was just this line where the sky met the water and absolutely nothing to interrupt the gray of the water or the blue of the sky. No land, no animals, no other ships. Nothing. You know those plastic bubbles that enclose toys or rings that you can buy out of gum-ball machines? The two sides just snap together and it’s this single sphere, the line where the two sides meet the only indication that it’s separable. That’s what this horizon reminded me of. I thought of the lines in the Old Testament, when God starts to flood the earth to clear out the riff-raff that didn’t deserve to be on Noah’s Ark - basically, the Abyss of the ocean and the Abyss of the firmament collapse together, like clapping your hands together around a bubble so that the air that gave it shape just creates a better nothingness than the “nothing” that was contained in it was. Destruction, rather than containment. I had stared at that horrible, endless water and thought about how scary the ocean must have been to Man a few thousand years ago. It is horrible now even though I know that it does end, somewhere. At that moment I appreciated the balls sailors and voyagers require to go on whaling missions or to discover new lands, years at sea without knowing really where you are. That’s what standing in that big empty sport arena felt like to me, the terror of the emptiness, openness, nothingness. Kevin and I walked toward the open gates that lead into the arena, my heart pounded. This was for weigh in. This was nothing.

I stopped on the curb just across the street from the entrance. Kevin stopped with me. There was a young tree to the side of us and as the sun filtered through its immature leaves and scrawny branches, it cast a dappled shadow in front of us onto the road. I stood in that shade, waiting. I wasn’t ready to go in yet, as if I wanted something to happen as a sign. It’s vampiric, really, like I needed to be invited in. At that moment there was a little bit of commotion, or just energy of a group walking and talking, over to the side opposite that little tree. I turned my head to look at there was a group of maybe 3 or 4 men laughing, one of whom was this towering figure. Long limbed, strong trunk, wearing a blue shirt and a towel draped around his neck that kind of served to frame his head as this separate thing. Almost like a bust, this handsome face smiling. Kevin and I had no idea who this was, 4 years ago, but we knew he was someone by how charismatic he was. I think Kevin said something like, “Wow!” simply by the impression of his position in that group. Imagine this: I’m having an anxiety fit over the size of this stupid sports arena before we even walk into it and then we look over and there’s this larger-than-life man, who looks quite frankly like a movie star or aged Superman, who eclipses the building with his magnitude. This was the first time I met Dieselnoi, just his raw energy and really nothing else because I had no reference. I don’t recall why we decided to take a picture with him - maybe Kevin had guessed at who he was - and I stood next to him, just dwarfed (further) by his height and boisterousness. He lifted my arm into the air as though he was holding up the glove of a winner at the center of the ring; his other hand gave a “thumbs up,” with a huge square fist and long thumb.

Years and more than 100 fights later I’d booked a session to train with Dieselnoi in Bangkok by using text. It took forever to arrange this appointment with him, dozens of exchanges where I’d have to translate half of what he’d written to me using a dictionary, then painstakingly peck out my response on the Thai keyboard on my phone. The same way I squinted into the phone and bit my lips over translating those messages, I furrowed my brow and pinched my fingers over the surface of the map in order to figure out if we were at the right place or not. It was meant to be this historical, preservation of heritage type office - or I’d gleaned as much from translating the name to a cumbersome, literal, word-for-word translation that likely meant that. I was still unsure, feeling again this anxious stone in my gut as I looked another huge, empty arena. It was so massive that if we were on the wrong side of it, we might not be able to walk through enough of it to find where Dieselnoi was waiting for us; and my Thai wasn’t good enough to call him, nor was my typing fast enough to navigate short, frequent directions. As I was trying to calm the beating of my heart, the heat of the day pounding at the windows of the car and the air-con seemingly doing nothing for Jaidee, who was panting his hot dog breath into my ear, Kevin made a sound. Something like “Wow.” 

The gray car in front of us looked like a toy because of the tall man who’d just stepped out of it, kind of leaning into the door with his thighs as you do when a door jams all the time when you try to close it. Now, not surrounded by anyone, just standing alone and fussing with the keys of his car, he was less movie-star in his persona but still absolutely stunning. There’s a scene in the movie “Pacific Rim,” where a little girl who is fleeing from monsters, panicking, crying, completely lost amidst rubble, looks up at a man who emerges out of a literal giant - a Jaeger machine used to fight these giants - and that man is basked in golden light as he stands there, towering as if the same size as that enormous, monster-battling robot. The color palate, the angles, the little girl stopping crying for the first time in order to just stare in awe, is all a way to express how heroic her savior is. Dieselnoi was standing in the hot sun, on the pavement, with his hand resting on the top of his old beat up car… and the impression was the same as the movie. He’s just heroic. I wondered, as I wrote this, about my fear over those big empty spaces; the terror of the massive, the endless, the Abyss. It’s an uneasiness more than an actual anxiety or fear, but it’s definitely at the vastness of that space. One of the things - and there are many things - that I love so much about Dieselnoi now that I’ve had the opportunity to get to know him, to spend time with him and really just witness him, is that he fills space. His charisma expands into each space, no matter how huge, like he’s the breath inflating a balloon. And because of his charm and being so personable, anywhere he goes he’s the center of it, like a focal point on the horizon to orients everything else. And he draws everyone to him with these long, open arms. As a kid, my comfort was those mountains that encircled my city, always visible no matter where you stood. That’s Dieselnoi. 

You can watch the Muay Thai Library session with Dieselnoi here:

#30 Dieselnoi Chor Thanasukarn 2 - Muay Khao Craft  (42 min) watch it here 

The greatest knee fighter who ever lived not only shares his secrets in ring tactics - how to draw out your opponent and then ultimately hem them in - and various closing and tripping techniques, he also shows his amazing heart. He's a Legend among Legends, the fighter without equal in the history of the sport.

#3 Dieselnoi  Chor Thanasukarn  - The King of Knees (54 min) - watch it here 

Dieselnoi is the greatest knee fighter who ever lived, and it just wasn't because of his height. Spending this hour with him lets you feel how much love and energy he pours into his Muay Thai, even at this age, the real secret to what make him dominant in the Golden Age of the sport. There is nobody like Dieselnoi. Nobody.

If you enjoyed this article you can read my other Patreon Magazine articles:

• Patron Only Articles - These articles are written specially for my patrons and are my attempts to expand as a writer. They are full of richer descriptions, and take on themes not always talked about in the experience of being a fighter. At least one is published a month, if not two.

The Perfection of Festival Fights in Thailand | A trip to the clinic to receive a boosting IV leaves me drifting through thoughts of belonging, as I listen to my kru talk about me to the nurse. read it here 

Cheet Yaa - "if there were no cuts it wouldn't be Sylvie" | A trip to the clinic to receive a boosting IV leaves me drifting through thoughts of belonging, as I listen to my kru talk about me to the nurse. read it here 

The Hurting Game - The Psychology of Hurt | Even though I've fought over 200 times being the one who hurts others, that the game is hurting, is still a psychology I need to embrace. read it here 

A Girl and Her Bag - the Intimacy of Work | Every fighter who has spent a long amount of time in the gym has to fall in love with their bag - how bagwork contains its own beauty. read it here 

Jai Rohn - My Story of Blood, My Pride and Stitches | My heart was racing, I was upset at my performance, and then there was the pain of stitches, more painful than any stitches I've had before. read it here