Taking COMMAND: My Quest to Become an MMA Judge – Part 1

Day One – Morning

Walking into the boardroom where we would spend the next two days drilling techniques and scoring fights was like high school all over again, complete with the questions about where to sit and whether or not you’ll be liked resurfacing internally.

I chose a seat against the wall halfway up the aisle on my right, having already noticed that Mahood and other local MMA personalities had congregated at the front left. If you’re John McCarthy and you’re asking questions in a classroom setting, who are you going to look to for answers – the guy pressed up against the wall looking a little nervous or experienced professionals who already know the answer? Yeah, me too.

Question: what’s the point of using those tent cards that you write your name on?

The sizeable bodies in the front row are obstructing your view of my wonderful penmanship, so why not just start out with pointing and try to remember my name is Spencer as we go?

I got my answer a minute later when we were called to hand over our payments. We all had to hold the tent cards under our chin so that Jerin Valel, McCarthy’s co-pilot on the COMMAND Courses, could take our pictures. Since there was no mention of pictures in the fear-inducing itinerary Mahood had sent me earlier in the week, I wore a hat and hadn’t shaved.

It really was feeling just like high school, bad picture and all.

After the impromptu photo session, we got down to business, beginning with the always enjoyable game of “Let’s go around the room; introduce yourself and tell us why you’re here.” When did I time warp back to Hamilton and St. Thomas More Catholic Secondary School circa 1994?

“My name is Spencer Kyte. I’m an MMA journalist,” I started.

“Alright, nobody talk to that guy,” McCarthy interrupted to a round of chuckles and applause. Nobody talk to that guy; yep, I was back in high school alright.

“I write for HeavyMMA.com and locally here in Vancouver for The Province. I’m here because my job requires me to be critical of officials, so I want to know what they know, or are supposed to know, and gain as much knowledge as possible,” I finished to a series of nodding heads.

With me in the room that day were a tremendous range of weekend students. There were former fighters, current referees and regional promoters, two members of the Vancouver Athletic Commission looking to learn more about the sport, a pair of local boxing judges hoping to increase their MMA aptitude and a bunch of guys with a desire to learn more and get more involved in their MMA communities.

The guys from the Athletic Commission had camped out beside me. The room had been unintentionally divided into sections, with most of the experienced individuals on one side, and me and the rest of the inexperienced and curious on the other. McCarthy was definitely going to the other side of the room with questions first, just as I planned when I picked my seat.

John McCarthy is a presence.

For starters, he is very much deserving of being called “Big” and when he speaks, there is an authority and tenor to the things he says that just forces you to pay attention. He’s also an icon in this sport.

Whatever your opinion of him as a referee or personality, McCarthy helped get this sport to where it is today and goes down in the MMA history books, especially here in North America. Not only was the one of the first referees to set foot in the UFC Octagon, but he co-wrote the Unified Rules of Mixed Martial Arts that we still follow today.

I have no problem admitting I had a “That’s Big John McCarthy” moment when I walked in the door for the first time; I think everyone who had never met the man before did too. Then he busted my chops about being the guy no one should talk to and cursed half a dozen times – not for emphasis or effect, but just because that’s how he talks – and I settled in, ready to find out all the things I didn’t know.

Sitting opposite McCarthy at the front of the room was Valel. The Winnipeg, Manitoba native alternated between nodding in agreement or shaking his head in objection to the things being said. He’s been a fighter, referee and judge. He also passed McCarthy’s daunting referees course early in the program’s inception, and now serves as co-instructor.

Jerin breaks things down to the core, stripping away all the MMA nomenclature and making sure everyone without any experience on the mats knows what is being discussed. He also does a mean Nick Diaz impression, complete with in-fight trash talking and hands held up above his head. Seeing him bounce around across from McCarthy, calling him “bitch” and offering perfect Diaz pitter-patter jabs is priceless.

Normally, sitting through three-plus hours of PowerPoint slides is tough sledding. But for a guy like me who would much rather talk about any aspect of MMA than anything else in the world, it’s cake. If you’re not ready for it or can’t focus without three shots of 5 Hour Energy, you’re in for a long morning.

When we break for coffee, I start feeling comfortable about being there. Paul Lazenby and I shake hands and exchange pleasantries, having worked together on a couple different occasions. John Cooper introduces himself, laughing, adding that it’s nice to finally meet after being Facebook friends for the better part of a year; he’s a referee and King of the Cage promoter on Vancouver Island.

I talk with Jonathan Tweedale of the Vancouver Athletic Commission. He asks about where I write, I tell him how awesome it is that members of the VAC are taking the course, and we discuss our choices for best MMA site.

I go with MMA Fighting because I can’t say Heavy; picking my own site makes me look like a self-important asshole, and while I am, he doesn’t need to know that right now.

He counters with Sherdog and I’m off to the races. I have no problem with the site as a whole, but offer an objection on the basis that you cannot cover a sport as well when you’re not at the biggest events.

“I can’t cover the Canucks from home as well as someone who is sitting in the press box and standing in the dressing room after the game,” is the analogy I drop. At the next break, Tweedale tells me he thinks I’m right about the whole Sherdog thing.