Memoirs of a MACHINE: CAGED. From IFC to Prison...a fighter struggles to reclaim his soul.

SuperBrawl 3

2012-01-30T12:05:00.000-08:00

TOP 10 BEST VALE TUDO FIGHTS IN NHB HISTORY
FRANK SHAMROCK VS. JOHN MACHINE LOBER ’97 Blaisdale Arena, Honolulu, Hawaii

I am not taking "NO" for an answer.

On our down time, Trigger and I were watching fight tapes from Japan called Pancrase. Frank Shamrock, Bas Rutten, Alan Goes, Ken Shamrock, all of the top guys. I was always impressed with Frank, He looks like f’n Superman, and thought he would be a very good match for me. He is tough. He is a Champion.

For cash I silkscreened t shirts for companies in my parents garage. It was a skill my brother taught me. I was in the garage and I remember getting a call from TJ Thompson, a promoter from Hawaii. He asked if I knew who Frank Shamrock was... I did. He was Ken Shamrock’s brother. He looked like superman. He had been an established fighter in Japan in a league named Pancrase Hybrid Wrestling, He was King of Pancrase in fact. TJ asked if I would like to fight him for a Championship in his event called Superbrawl. Superbrawl was no rules and this was Frank’s first No rules fight since Pancrase had rules.No rules. Headbutts legal and a 30 minute time limit. TJ would pay me seven grand to show and seven to win. I had the phone between my shoulder and head, sweating over the press.
I made that decision in ten seconds. “Yes, when and where. I’ll be there.” I told TJ then called Ken and asked him. He was excited also.
I trained real hard and I was real strong. I was peeking physically and mentally as a fighter. I had six good grappling partners. We grappled everyday. I had a problem with the gym. It did’nt have enough weights for me. When I was young my dad would have me push his car around the street for football training. So, I used my Volvo. I’d roll into the gym and do a warm up then I’d go back out to the lot and lift the back end of the car up. I would see how long I could hold it off the ground. Then, Trigger would get in and start it up and put it in neutral. I would push it up and down the lot.

Ken, Sal, the fight Doctor and I were out getting something to eat in downtown Honolulu. Enjoying it all. On the walk back tothe hotel I see that little mutherfucker from Iowa, Pat Millitech. He was cruising with an enterauge on the other side of the busy boulevard. I was’nt sure how well they were going to react to my presence. The hair on the back of my neck was 8 inches long and standing straight up. Gnarly, but they all ignored me and nothing was said.

I like Hawaii a lot. My Family had vacationed here for my entire childhood so I felt real comfortable here. I ended up at 24 hour fitness for the weigh-ins with Ken. TJ had some deal going on there. All the Fighters and I were sitting around, all but Frank. He and Ken Shamrock had there own special room so they were excluded from the rest of us. The big picture was I was there to be fed to the Lion’s Den. Well, my gotta a reason to kick your ass meter was switched up to 11, like the guys amp in Spinal Tap. Normal Amps go to 10, mine went to 11.
I weighed in at 202lbs and Frank weighed in at 205lbs. Then, I went downstairs to the weight room, loaded up the bar with about 600lbs and did a set of Deadlifts, that stopped everybody’s program. I was ready to answer everything Frank had and I did’nt care that it was’nt on LIVE PPV. The people who I cared about would know what happened. This guy is a Champion and so am I. Tonight, I was going to fight twice as hard asi fought Igor and i am not making any mistakes. I will be THE CHAMPION of SUPERBRAWL3 in Hawaii.
The scene was crazy. After a lot of waiting, I finally made it to the ring. I was ready. My intensions were bad. Simply hit him in the head a lot. And that’s how it went from the start. He did fight back, but, it was’nt enough. His head was a huge magnet and my fist were steel, twisted blue heavy and quick. He had no defense for my ground and pound. His head was on a silver platter and I just jabbed his head like it was a heavy bag. My dad had two rules to fighting, “You can’t beat a good wrestler and You can’t Knockout a Mexican.” He was’nt a racial guy, my dad, just real. There are just two kinds of guys, Fighters and Librarians, you get the idea.
How very true I found out. I did’nt work his body enough. I was concentrating on his meat head too much. The beating went on for thirty minutes. When time was up, a broken hand, a missing tooth, and I won a Split decision. I won the belt and just executed one of the most epic battles, Vale Tudo style, in the History of NHB, MMA or any kind of Fighting combat.
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Fighting Sports Newsletter
No Holds Barred News and Notes

LOBER VICTORIOUS IN HONOLULU
   Honolulu, Hawaii, January 17 - The scene was Superbrawl III at the Blaisdale Arena for a showdown between twooutstandingno holds barred fighters as John "MACHINE" Lober squared off with Lion's Den fighter Frank Shamrock.
   The fight got underway with a nice takedown on the part of Shamrock. After a couple minutes in Lober's guard, Shamrock sat back with a leg. The maneuver was not successful for Shamrock as Lober moved out of it. The first five minutes was a stalemate with neither fighter having a big advantage. After a brief stand up phase, Shamrock again got the leg of Lober. This was the closest either fighter came to finishing the fight as Shamrock applied a toe hold and a heel hook in this sequence. as Shamrock tried for the submission, Lober rained in heavy kicks straight down on Shamrock which certainly helped his cause. Lober was then able to kick Shamrock off to break up the submission. Shamrock stood up and Lober decided to lay on his back for a couple minutes apparently resting. The slight edge would have to go to Shamrock thus far.
   Lober gained side control which he held for a couple minutes and then the fight was re started. Lober landed a jab that put Shamrock on the mat. Shamrock stayed on his back inviting Lober in. Shamrock went for the leg and Lober rained more heavy punches down on to Shamrock's head from a standing position. The fight moved back to the standing position with Lober landing some strong punches which seemed to rock Shamrock. At this point, it looked as if Shamrock was tiring. Lober seemed to control the latter half of the fight a little more decisively than Shamrock controlled the first half of the fight. The fight went to the scorecard with Lober winning on two out of three judges scores. The crowd obviously thought Lober won the fight as they booed when the decision was announced. Lober had two of his teeth knocked out during the fight.
   Both fighters are at a high level of expertise. Lober was very calm throughout the fight and his no holds barred experience edge on Shamrock likely played a role in the fight.
   Thia marked the third show put on by Future Fight Productions, Inc. Of Honolulu. The show had strong sponsors in 24 hour fitness and Budweiser. Super brawl is becoming a big hit with Hawaii fans and the promoters are working on getting their show on PPV.
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After the fight, I bought Frank a drink. Frank said “I can’t believe you almost armbarred me.”Actually had nothing good to say and was a butt hurt little bitch, he offered me no respect and it felt like the whole time I was trying to make him feel better by telling him "no one will probably see this fight anyway." Then I looked up at his face, haha, and his head was so lumped up that it actually looked like it was swelling up right before my eyes. Good fighter with a lot of potential...might be a dousch though...

John wins a Split decision. “In retrospect, I should have beat his body instead of his face. Dad would say “you can’t beat a good wrestler and you can’t knockout the Mexicans.” To John’s credit, he did drop Frank three times and caught frank in three submission attempts.

A week later, Pat Militech called me and was just fucking thrilled. " I had no idea you were that tough Lober." A week later Pat moved into Ken’s Combative Fighting Systems. Until that fight, no one had ever seen anything like that. He had no idea that I was so tough. He stayed with me for a couple of weeks in HB and we showed him what’s up. For the money ofcourse. We became friends, also. I respected this guy's work ethic. He came straight form the OC airport, dropped his bags, walked directly to the mat and then was vomiting come ten minutes in. Badass. I respect that. And, so, Militech Fighting Systems was spawned.

These are John Lober's signature years of competition. Paving the road for Modern MMA. With every win and every drop of blood, John is learning and piecing together what today is Mixed Martial Arts. A jack of all trades yet not a master. More blood sweat and tears and injuries and pain and you get the idea.

Art Davies, Fredrico Lapenda, Monte Cox, John Perretti, Promoters promoters etc.. coming and going, but a few r staying around. UFC is still hanging on with Myorwitz. It's the late '90's and the underground is strong but the mainstream is just not that into it yet.

Sorry to hear about Pop's

2012-01-30T12:02:00.000-08:00

John,

   Dude, I'm so sorry to hear about your dad. Man it hit me so hard. Here I am sitting in jail with tears running down my face. He was so cool. Don't ever forget those memories. You know that I can relate.( Sean's dad committed suicide when he was 5) you will never get over it but it does get easier. My thoughts and prayers are with you. What a shock!
   Well on to happier times. It's so funny you brought up Stephanie house. I think about that day all the time. Drunk as skunks, beating each other rolling around in her room. Fucking hilarious.( the first time I ever blacked out. We were drinking vodka with a water chaser. When I looked away Sean switched the water with more vodka and that's all I remember.)
   It's so good to hear you have a family, kids and everything. The day my daughter was born it changed my life. From runnin and gunnin, slingin dope, to basically a boring family man. I wouldn't have it any other way.
   What's up with the no rules fighting. Your fucking nuts. Cool, but nuts. Were not kids anymore, I guess you still have some spunk left in you.
   Well my moms doing well. My brother is still fucked up on speed. I got a three day kick so I am out march 7th. Dude, we must get together when you get out. I consider you a special friend, you don't run across to many people you can say that about. Somewhere we lost contact. They say everything happens for a reason! Keep in touch.
   Again, I'm sorry about Pops. I've been thinking about him since I got your letter. Hang in there.
Your friend, Shawn

Extreme Challenge: Des Moines, Iowa '96

2012-01-29T20:44:00.000-08:00

Target on my back.

Everybody had a comment about the Zinoviev fight. People recognized me on the street as well. Was now the perfect opportunity to interview for the Fire Department? They would have to hire me now. I am like someone they know now. I was on Live Pay-Per-View Fighting in this new style. Na, Fuck that. I have a new job. This job is about being me. I fight. I fight on Live Pay-Per-View.

I was sitting down at CFS, cooling down. We were out of the garage and into a 1500 sqft retail suite. Memberships were up and I had a huge target on my back. Someone handed me the phone and said it was for me. On the line was a guy named Monte Cox from Des Moines, Iowa. He represented a fighter and named Pat Millitech. Monte told about their league called the Extreme Challenge in Des Moines, Iowa. He wanted to test Pat and after seeing the Zinoviev fight, asked if I would fight Pat. I knew there would be more PPV coming my way and this would be a fight down for me because it was not televised. I declined his offer to fight Pat, but, instead offer him my jiu-jitsu training partner Earl. Earl was a Marine and a very competent blue belt in Jiu-Jitsu. Monte jumped on that.

We were off to Iowa. Fighting was being promoted in Iowa by Monte, a newspaper reporter. It was slowly building up there and Monte had a small stable of competitive fighters. He gave away the filming and Pat got a percentage of the gate. He had things rolling well. When I walked out to the cage with Earl is when I realized we had bitten off more than we could chew. The arena was stuffed with the entire city and I think they were all related to Pat. Unbelievably, Earl and I made it the cage and the fight happened. To Earl's credit, he fought hard and lasted a good fifteen minutes, but he was just overpowered by the home crowd, and Pat's Jiu-Jitsu, I believe. (youtube.comPat Millitech vs. Earl Loucks)

Back at the hotel, I was fucking furious. We were set up by this mutherfucker. I really wanted to fuck someone up. So, I went a couple rooms down were Pat and his boys were partying. I walked in "Hey everybody. How's it going." i laughed then choked out the first head in my way. Shit hit the fan and I ended up flat on my back in between the two hotel beds. A big tall dude mounted me and based out on the beds. I was in a very terrible position. I reached up and body locked him and pulled my face tight to his chest. I bite on to his nipple and forced my teeth until "POP" they touched. He fucking screamed and jumped off. I stumbled down the stairs outside and was surrounded by Pat and this dudes entourage. Pat was egging him on to finish the fight with me. "Haha, Dennis, now is your chance. HAha, this guy is World class. Now is your chance" he instigated arrogantly. I raised my fists ready. Then Dennis says "Fuck it!" Turns his back and runs upstairs. "Your the one I want" I demanded to Pat. He has the balls to tell me he only fights in the ring. Long story short, I chased that little fucker through the snow for five minutes before he made it to his hotel room and locked me out.

What's up Dogg?

2012-01-26T14:37:00.000-08:00

1-6-04

What's up Dogg?

I got your letter with the photos, thanks. Happy New Year to you as well.
Remember Y2K in Parker? What's really goin' on? hahaha Seriously though, this year will be better than the last.
I'm in jail, Dogg, and it is F'n strange. I have met a lot of people and you know me, always tryin' to find the best in them. i got moved to the workers dorm recently. In a seven day turn of events I ended up with the "KEYS"
It's Superbowl Sunday and on New Years we had a 57 man riot. With the Mexicans against the whites.it was in a dorm room with low ceilings and double bed racks in a double row. The Mexicans were on the left and they were on the right. Hurling socks filled with padlocks at my head. The sock tails whipped my face as they dropped the dude standing next to me. Then I was hit with an underarm deodorant in the head. It exploded and I barely felt it. I front kicked the big one in the belly and dropped him in the walkway so no one could get through. It was chaos everywhere as a dude in the back got shanked by a sharpened lever from the vent cover. Then the pepper spray engulfed the room. I hit the floor. The guards have scuba tanks filled with bear spray with high power nozzels. They just hosed us down like dogs. hahaha.
All the "Bad Apples" are gone and I have the "Keys" now. HBFC is in full effect. I implanted mandatory shower shoe/ mitt work. Now everyone is trained up and the Mexicans are all scared. They asked me if we were going to war. I said no and now they are all training with us. hahahaha.
Your Bro, John, HBFC

2012-01-25T18:35:00.000-08:00

LIVE PAY-PER-VIEW '96

2012-01-25T12:02:00.000-08:00

LIVE PPV

Trigger and I were kicking it at his one bedroom on P st. in downtown Huntington Beach. I was training real hard for Igor. Jiu-Jitsu at Ken's in the morning. 650lbs deadlifts at night. We would eat whatever we wanted and sit around and watch fight videos. I was a rock hard 202lbs. I could think off 2 lbs if i needed.

Natasha started to get jealous of Trigg. And I believe he of her. I don't think they liked each other. I didn't really blame her since he was kinda sleazy, but he COULD wrestle.

Ken's school had outgrown his garage by now and we were in a 2,000 sqft. retail center with 150 students. Ken Gabrielson's Combative Fighting Systems. Ken got his Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu black belt from Reylson Gracie and Reyslon's son Rodrigo Gracie was living with Ken and his family. I took full advantage of this. And trained with Rodrigo every morning. He gave me some wicked cool jiu-jitsu techniques. Combative Jiu-jitsu, not sport jiu-jitsu. We didn't wear a Gi. We collectively focused on Fighting. Rodrigo was a little crazy and he really COULD grapple. He only weighed 165 lbs. Most of the time He would weigh a ton.

Trigg had a gang of tattoos. Like a sailor. I had none at all. I am so narcistic that i wasn't really sure I wanted something permanently mutilated on my perfect physique. What if it sucked? Besides, my philosophy was that they identified you much easier with a tattoo. I didn't want to be identified, but, living in HB where everyone was tattooed, soon, being the guy with no tattoos, I became easily identifiable. I was going on live Pay Per view and decided I needed to create my brand. So, I got one.
My two favorite role models growing up were Chuck Norris and Arnold Schwarzenneqer. I like Code of Silence with Chuck, but, when Terminator came out, I was hooked. That MACHINE would not quit. Like me. I would train like a MACHINE. Train through the pain threshold. Until my body failed and even when I didn't feel like training. So, I thought that would be an appropriate nickname. And if I got i blasted across my belly, I would have to live up to it, never give up, or break! It would drive me just that much more. "yeah, I will get it blasted across my belly like it's a championship belt" I told Mike. So, he took me to Sickdogs Tattoo. That was the most painful fucking experience I have ever had. The guy who did it was fresh out of the joint. Jason. He did Kimo's tats. He did a good job. He free handed it. It took about two hours. Once he started the tattoo it was so painful I made him stop for a second. I looked down and it said "MA." Fuck it, there's no turning back now. I would look foolish with just MA on my belly. A Terminator would not care about the pain. So, Mike and I started slamming budwiesers and had a great time.
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A few days later, a couple of weeks out from the Pay per view fight, I got a call from the front desk at Powerhouse. Melvin was there working out. Oh, paybacks! For a moment, i thought it wasn't worth the money I was gonna pull in the fight if I got injured. That quickly was dismissed. So, Trigg and I raced downtown.

There he was. Wow, he is huge. I walked up to him and smashed him right in the nose. The big pussy started screaming and picked up a plate and tried to throw it at me. I bailed just as quickly as I hit him in his big black head. Never saw him again, but the story is legendary in Huntington Beach.
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LIVE PAY-PER-VIEW
My third title fight versus the Battlecade Extreme Fighting Middleweight Champion of the world, Igor (Eager) Zinoviev. He was a Russian Judo Gold medalist team captain. He weighed in at 187 lbs and In my eyes was a tough bad ass mutherfucker. Igor was coming off a couple huge victories over Egan Enoue and Mario Sperry. At this time, Igor was considered the Fedor of the nineties. Russians are the gnarliest humans in the world.

I was learning every step of the way. The fight game was still new to me, but, not the fight. For this Battle, I had begun to adapt my style with some wrestling and heavy punching. I learned how to jam the centerline to defend my head if couldn't slip. Rodrigo Gracie was schooling me with Combative Jiu-Jitsu as well. I was just coming into turning my hips. Overall, I was cock-strong, creative and adaptable to any change in strategy my opponent may employ. I had faith in my new skills and was focusing my inner desire and rage towards a goal.

The Pre-Fight week was quit interesting. Ken and I arrived with a huge entourage in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Immediately Havoc broke out when someone destroyed all the furniture on the floor we were on. Perretti was fucking pissed because no one would claim it. It was like a three ring circus until we made it to the press conference in the hotel banquet room. It was like a who's who's of martial arts. Gene Lebell, Dan Insato and Maurice Smith. Where is Chuck Norris? It was surreal again.

I had only studied tape of Igor before I actually had met him at the press conference. It was a rush of reality when I shook his hand. Oh shit, Gene LeBell is his coach. One thing I learned as a kid, was if you give some one a reason to kick your ass, no matter the variables, they will kick your ass. At this moment, that being said, the only thing I could say was "Good Luck."
Finally, I was here. In this huge cage with a ravenous crowd. Lights and cameras recorded every detail. I felt comfortable, at home. Focused and driven. This cage had a nice wrestling mat and it was a round cage. Like the old school bare-knuckle rings. It was huge and gave a lot of room for movement. I had to turn it on. This is what I have been waiting for my entire life. a test of tests. Life or Death.
I looked Igor in the eyes from across the cage and couldn't read him. Emotionless. A professional. My mind was still processing the outside stimulus. I came out ready to counter him. He punched me full lunging overhand right to my liver. He tried to kick me and I caught it. Then went right for the guillotine choke and jumped up and locked me in his guard. So, I am on my hands and knees and this incredibly strong Russian Killer is stretching my neck and pulling my head off like it's a doll he didn't like as a kid. My 15 minutes are over. More like 20 seconds. Hell no! This is what I do mutherfucker. I used a technique Ken and Rod showed me to defend the choke. I sat back, lifted him to my feet then, creativity was applied. I got this guy feet in the air and he's not letting go of the choke. I began moving toward the cage to throw him over the top when Trigger yelled "Just throw him!" I hoisted Igor straight in the air and piled drived him hard on his head and neck. I did my best not to land flush. I even saw a little black when we hit. I thought for sure I broke his neck. Igor tucked just before the impact and survived the slamm before releasing the choke. The fight was on. My mind quickly went empty and I was Insane. He mounted me for most of the second 5 minute round and I staggered back to my corner. I head butted igor in the mouth and cut my head. They stopped to check it but let the fight continue. Whew! That was stupid. I almost finished myself. I remember standing toe to toe trying to knock Igor the fuck out, but, my lungs burned so deeply that I could only connect one punch at a time. The fight ended a draw and I learned the word Respect for another human being that moment. That was a religious experience if I ever. I had to get home. I love my life. I need kids.
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Fighting Sports Newsletter
No Holds Barred News October 28, 1996
Issue No. 10

Tulsa , Oklahoma, October 18 - What looked to be an excellent show on paper, lived up to it's potential and more. Extreme Fighting III featured some of the most even matchups in the three year history of no holds barred on U.S. pay-per-view. This led to excellent fights and a couple major surprises.

A fight which saw two immovable objects colliding was Igor Zinoviev against John MACHINE Lober. Zinoviev gave this fight his usual all out effort. The fight started with Lober attempting a single leg takedown and Zinoviev catching him in a guillotine. From here Lober showed amazing strength as he picked up Zinoviev and Suplexed him hard to the mat. Lober suffers a cut on the scalp after an illegal head butt. The ringside doctors allow the fight to continue. Lober shot in again with Zinoviev catching him in a front face lock which he would do several times during the 3 five minute rounds. Phase two was much of the same back and forth action with both having the upper hand at one time or another. Phase three was a stand up phase with the two in the boxing mode. Some heavy punches were landed by both fighters. (The fight ended in a draw and the writer failed to document it.) Both fighters showed their tremendous heart in this fight. This was and epic battle and will go down as one for the ages. Zinoviev will have surgery for his injuries which include a herniated disc and a separated shoulder which will keep him out of the MARS pay-per-view and maybe EFC IV in spring of 97. Lober was fined by the Oklahoma Boxing Commission for the illegal head-butt he delivered.
The show, from top to bottom, was fantastic. Major improvements were made from a production standpoint. The crew at Battlecade deserve a great deal of credit for putting a show together that has to be ranked number one or two amongst no holds barred pay-per-view of the year.

FSN NHB World Rankings
170 lbs to 199 lbs
1. Renzo Gracie
2. Igor Zinoviev
3. John Lober
4. Wallid Ismail
5. Allan Goes
6. Jerry Bohlander
7. Murillo Bustamante
8. Matt Hume
9. Fabio Gurgel
10. Erik Paulson

After the fight, I was already asked for a re-match. Igor gained my respect. I truly tried to knock him out. This fight was for my Dad. RIP.

Full Jail Issue

2012-01-25T11:28:00.001-08:00

Full Jail Issue

It's F'n sad when I'm dressed nicer than I was on the outside. Just kidding. I got all brand new clothes today. Jailhouse Pimp. Full Jail Issue. I look good. Too bad I'm in jail. I don't have and lady's to "impress", oh maybe they all are. They can't stop talking like bitches.
I was sent to see the nurse that checked me in three months ago yesterday.
She stood right in front of me. Searching. Before she realized it was me. "
Oh, quick. Come in here. What did? You look great! I did not recognize you Mr. Lober."

"I feel good. Thanks." I replied.

" will you come to a meeting and share with everyone how and what you did to turn yourself around today?" she asked.

" uh-uh, no way, it's worth too much to me. They can't afford me. Hahahaha." I belly laughed.

Anyway, I just finished ch. 1 and ch. 2 of my bible study. I will be a licensed Minister soon I told myself.
Just sitting around, sweaty, in the dark, with all these scary men. I'll write more and send it to you soon. no, I don't have email. I have to handwrite everything with this little pencil. Oh, and the mail nazi's reads all of my mail. They enjoy the conversation starters. Now, I am training all the Deputies after hours in the laundry room.

Your friend,
John HBFC, Full Jai Issue, Inc.

My first cage fight

2012-01-25T07:12:00.001-08:00

Arlinghouse

Well, I guess every 10 or 11 year old has a fight after school...with Kevin Arlinghouse...and a dozen bigger kids on cruiser bikes.

Fuck, again. How many times do I gotta fight this fucker. What now? Oh good, dad just rolled up to the house in his Mark IV Lincoln...he will tell everyone to beat it.

Less than a minute later I am standing toe to toe with Kevin, a scrappy Mexican kid who could wrestle his ass off. He and I are 1 and 1 in a string of fights that is so long I cant remember exactly how many. Maybe being adopted made him so bad ass, I don't know but there was nothing better than fighting this mutherfucker, my rites of passage. Then he socks me right in the nose and my vision got blurry. I looked over at my dad. He was using the hose to spray the kids mobbing the backyard wall. I remember being mounted and Kevin looking at dad and asking him if he should stop...

IFC: Biloxi, Mississippi Just Plain Brutal '96

2012-01-23T20:48:00.001-08:00

IFC: Biloxi, Mississippi Just Plain Brutal '96

I graduated high school all CIF Football in "86. I wanted to be a Firefighter.

"What do you mean I didn't pass the Spanish portion of the test? Not fluent?" That was what personnel said at the interview. "just sign right here." they said "Fuck you. I have been working in the field with that fucker sitting next to you for eight months doing his job, picking up his slack and doing assessments in spanish and I am not fluent?No Mommes! Chupas mis heuvos!"

After receiving my AA/AS in fire science and after putting myself through and graduating the fire Academy. I worked eight days a month as a reserve firefighter in Santa Ana. I did the CPR certification. I was an EMT at the hospital. And Affirmative action fucking rolled right over me in '91.

Did I really want to be a clean cut civil servant anyway? Well, maybe I can get on TV. Then, It will be like they already know me and they will just give me the job, a career.

Now I was living on Huntington St. with Tasha and her four year old daughter. I had to move from my condo in Fountain Valley when my Mom sold it after I quick deeded it to her. I married Tasha in a nice ceremony in Corona Del Mar and everything was cool. I enjoyed her cooking. I know my dad would have been satisfied that I married Tasha. He liked her as well.

We had the Bachelor party at the Fritz. A large sleazy strip club in OC. Everyone was smiling until the bouncer sucker punched me in the eye. A huge black bodybuilder named Melvin. I had no idea who this guy was. Apparently, he was notorious for the sucker punch and he had a spotless record. Anyway, the punched knocked me to my back. When he tried to stomp me I got him locked with a foot-lock. He started crying "get him off me." His leg was huge. I couldn't break it. They carried us out the door as one. When we got outside is when I realized they got me cuffed. Paul varleans was wrecking shop also and it was chaos. I pleaded with the security to give me the key. They would not. So, I slipped the cuffs around his neck and tripped him to the ground and choked him unconscious. I got the keys and we left. The next morning my mom walks up. Sees my black eye and says "Your an Asshole."

I met Trigger, an NCAA Wrestler from Lock Haven University, and made him my regular training partner. I began improving my wrestling. Dad said "You can't beat a good wrestler." He was down to fight, at 220lbs.

When I was in Ukraine, I met a lot of individuals. One Was Fredrico Lapenda. He was promoting IVC in Brazil and Tokyo and hired Red and Mike P. to fight in Tokyo. Well, needless to say. I almost didn't make it outta there alive, but, Trigg and Red won their fights and we had a great time.

Next, IFC Biloxi, Mississippi. 4 man tournament. A Meat-Grinder. I am prepared to die to win this thing. 5k winner takes all. No rules. Ken was totally into it. He was stoked I had a belt.

Now, I looked to Ken Gabrielson as a mentor. He was the first American Black Belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and a full instructor in JKD under Paul Vunak. Not to mention a Fire Capt. and Father of three kids. Ken was awesome and always knew what to say. A great corner-man as well. In a crowded room with ten thousand screaming people in it, I could hear him whisper commands from the other-side. I had strengths and I had weaknesses, but nobody knew what they were but Ken and I.

It was Ken, Tasha and I in Biloxi and after a little sight-see we ended up in Buddy's Headquarters. It was actually his hotel room. We were checking out the posters and local advertisements for the event when Buddy and his two partners bust out with "John, we are not having the 4 man tournament. We want you to fight a single match for $500. You are gonna fight a kick-boxer." Well, I really wanted 5k and I really wanted to kill two guys to get it. When he told me this, I got angry. "Let's get the fuck outta here and get our shit. How long will it take to get to the airport?" I said without ungluing my teeth. We walked out of Buddy's headquarters. Well, they weren't expecting that. Their heads must have been spinning because before I could get back to my room there was Buddy crying my name. "John, John. OK. Single match $2500." I looked at Ken. He smiled and I replied "Done," Then Buddy handed me a couple comp tickets and slithered away.

Later that day, I was walking to eat with Ken and we passed John Perretti from PPV. From Extreme Fighting. Holy shit. I yelled "John." He turned and it was him. I introduced Ken and myself and prepared John for what he was about to see. Then gave him the comp ticket. He probably already had one, duh, but i didn't care. I made my point.

Now, I am the IFC Heavyweight Champion. I originally prepared myself for a 4 man tourney and I had a lot to serve this kick-boxer. I came out into the stadium with all the bells and whistles; ring-girls, lights and smoke. There were five thousand crazy, blood thirsty, drunk rednecks screaming to the max. It was awesome. I knew I was gonna win this fight. My opponent was a Kickboxer named Jamie Fawcett. He came to the fight with ten knockouts. We came out on our toes and I really wanted to knock him out. I opened the fight switching leads to confuse him. I left hooked his ear and clenched. I instinctively threw a knee and the floor came out from underneath my foot because I was so tense. I am flat on my back with the kick-boxer getting ready to stomp my head, neck and body. Oh shit. I better do something. I had to adapt. I caught the sole of his foot and guided it right over into my armpit as it came down. Just like my bachelor party. hahaha. I locked it on as hard as I could and felt the little bones that make up the top of the foot popping like jiffy. I held the lock as he rolled down to his belly, perhaps a little longer than I should have to make it decisive, but, he was trying to stomp my head, after-all. These fights were santcioned but who knows, I didn't want my opponent to think he could keep fighting after he tapped. He had been tapping a while before the referee pulled us apart at 29 seconds. That's it? "I HAVE A WHOLE CAN OF WHOOP ASS LEFT!"

Ken, Tasha and I are standing next to the cage. The Rednecks are beating each other up and the cops are cuffing 'em. Joe Lewis the "Old School Kickboxer" did my post fight interview. This interview stuff was new for me. "I used a foot-lock to finish the fight. I wanted to knock him out and ended up on my back because I was trying too hard, so, I had to adapt." I told Joe. )

John Perretti comes up to us and asks "Would you like a title fight with Igor Zinoviev on live Pay Per View? I will pay you 12k. I believe you are a better grappler." then gave me his card. Igor Zinoviev was the Fedor Emelienko of the time and was coming of a big win over Mario Sperry to name a few. I had studied all of his fights with Mike P. I told John P. that I would need some time to make that decision, but Ken and I knew I was ready. We knew the answer.

We celebrated on the river boat casino that night. Battered fighters littered the casino. Some were just propped up. Tasha and I were playing our favorite, Roulette. We were having a such a great time I didn't even realize. Ken whisper's in my ear "John, quit while your ahead." I replied " I have to Ken. I have all of their chips, see. They're shutting the table down. hahahaha." That was a great night.
------------------------------------------

We got home from Biloxi and I still had a whole can of whoop ass left in me. The :29 second foot-lock wasn't enough. The hard thing is that I didn't realize it until it was too late.

It was Saturday night and Hed (pe) was playing at Perq's on main st.. Tasha, Trigg and I were drinking having a good time. All it took was for this guy to step on my toe to set me off. I ended up cleaning the entire house out. All seven bouncers as well. The police report read "Lober was hitting anything and anybody." I was surrounded by bouncers outside the front door. Then I wasn't. Ha. I always wanted to donkey kick a guy into a row of motorcycles and have his limp body topple 'em like dominos. It was a dream of mine. When Tasha picked me up from the cop shop she said "It was like a Bruce Lee movie the way they had you surrounded like that...How did you learn how to do that?..."
Mike P laughed " Hey..., Look they shut the door. hahaha. They locked us out!" lol and sat back down at the bar.

I was so Raging angry arrogant and drunk that I just strolled up the street to Taxi's bar to take a leak. When I came out to order a drink, I saw the police in the front and then I realized what happened. I went out the back and they nabbed me. It hadn't dawned on me to run and hide.

It was a strange feeling getting arrested for fighting. For the very first time. Wtf?? Trigger got me a good lawyer. He got me 10 days of Cal trans work program and informal probation for a year. Needless to say ten days of work did not fit my schedule. The judge was pissed and told me He didn't want me working for him anyway. I concurred. So, he gave me 30 days in jail. I served 21 and they let me go. I thought that was a good deal. I got some rest and fuck it "It comes with the job I guess."

Fine Dining at OCJ

2012-01-23T18:13:00.000-08:00

Fine Dinning at Orange County Jail (OCJ)

8-09-2004

Hey Todd,

"Hello Mom, I'm in jail...and I like it" hahaha....not really. Do you remember that song from KROQ?

I just came back from Chow and aside from the excellent piece of chicken (just like Mom's) I was just involved in my first jail cafeteria brawl. The fight was between the Southsiders and, you guessed it, the Blacks.

I was eating and a Southsider from the other table warned me to be ready. At first I wasn't sure what was about to happen, but Something was about to go down. I started trippin'. Everyone could feel it. I looked and the Blacks and Chinos were at the back table. Madball was sitting next to me. "Watch my back" I exhaled.
As the Black guys lined up to dump their trays, a little crazy mutherfuckin southsider kid jumped up swung. And landed a solid, well educated earhole punch and dropped the guy. The cafeteria suddenly erupted to chaos. I jumped to my feet. As I began to run a Deputy tackled me from behind. "Stay outta trouble Lober" he warned. I moved to the side underneath the table and watched as the pepper spray engulfed the large ceiling room. Just as soon as the chaos erupted it was gone. Very exciting way to enjoy a chicken. Everyone was vomiting up their dinner from all pepper spray. The chicken was all over the floor. The best was watching the guy that started the brawl crawl back to his cell with a huge lump on his slick shaved head. The Deputies gave him special attention.

Talk to you soon, John HBFC

Kombat in Kiev part 2

2012-01-20T17:44:00.001-08:00

We landed in the snowy airport and entered the lobby of the customs. There was a large group of the gnarliest looking characters I had ever laid eyes on. One had a mohawk, there was a 7 foot black guy Gerry Harris, a crazy white guy from holland, named Bas, a Brazilian, and a football player. Paul "the Polar Bear" Varleans from the UFC, and Fred "the Mangler" Floyd.
Which one of these guys was I gonna fight? I'm the smallest guy here? Fuck it. Natasha and I got in the customs line and didn't say a word. This gnarly balding ginger standing next to me introduced himself in a crusty tough voice, with half a can of Copenhagen in his mouth. "Red's my name. I am here to fight. I told everybody back home that I was going to another country to kick some one's ass. Did you guys get your visas?" "Oh shit. I needed a Visa?" I said. He looked at me like I was crazy. I went over to the visa counter and knocked on the glass. A russian came out rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and pulled out the stamp and slammed down on Natasha's and mine passports. I walked back over to Red and asked "Is this what I need?"
Red was a student of Gene LeBell's. Mostly a tough Sambo guy and ex semi-pro football player. He later schooled me on how to apply basic foot and leg locks.

We came through the customs to meet six Russian, wearing very nice suits. Studley, Handsome men who couldn't speak a lick of English. They loaded us in their vehicles and we left the airport. We were driving down an Autobahn for a while when I realized we were doing 110-mph. We were in a nice, fully loaded custom ford van, A 700 volvo and Mercedes Benz. Like brand new ones.
Hey wait a minute. These guys are racing through this city like they own it. Down the wrong side of the road, Stopping in the middle of the road and yelling at each other. Recklessly and real fast on the icee road. I didn't know if I should get pissed or laugh. What if we wreck and Natasha got hurt? Just then, a cop pulls our van over. The two russians chuckle like they are in on a little secret together. Then pull some papers out of the glove box. The cop walked up, looked at them and laughed with them, then said some russian, like "silly boys slow it down from 110 to 109 don't you know there is a lot of ice on the road, hahaha. He got in his car. We sped off. Red turned and looked at Me and said "These guys are Mafia." "Oh shit." i thought. I didn't say anything to Natasha.
We pulled up at this huge gated Hotel. It looked haunted from the exterior. The hotel was an old sports arena, definitely third world. Thin walls, hard beds, no ice, strange outlets and a difficult to operate phone system. Reminded me of the shinning. Snow everywhere and colder than a well diggers butt cheek. A couple of peasant doormen checked us in to our room. They asked Natasha her name. He replied "That's a russian girls name. Your are very beautiful."
Red turned out to be an intellect as well as a crusty ex semi pro football player gonna be a cop guy. The three of us got along well and we began our ten day site seeing extravaganza. Truly amazing sites like the ww 2 war museum, outdoors markets and shops and the amazing Mafia hair solon. The country had just been liberated of communism and capitalism was everywhere. It was a lot like Tijuana. Red and I even bought russian soldier uniforms and rabbit fur hats like the ones Elmer Fudd wore to hunt bunny wabbits, hhahhahha.
I needed my head shaved the day of the press conference, the day before the fight. They brought me to the solon. Inside were about 30 of the most amazingly beautiful and pampered russian women I've ever seen. So, this is were they have been hiding under wraps for the Mafia. They were all getting their nails done, cutting hair, drinking coffee and chit chattin' away.
The Canadian Limo owner and his wife and their business partner, the son of the boss, got one of the girls to cut my hair. It took her 45 minutes to shave my head, and I must say it was the best head shave I ever had. She even washed it.
We left for the press conference. Red and I arrived late. At the fighter table were the gnarly fighters from the airport seated in front of reporters and fans. To the right of them was the same number, 8, of the gnarliest, ugliest looking Russians yet. And, in the middle was, an American, Buddy Albin, From Texas. And also, Leon Spinks, the boxer without front teeth who beat Ali.
After the conference Buddy was angry at Red for being late. He was quickly over it though. He told me that he was unsure who I would be fighting. He would let me know in the morning.
Buddy had a bad-ass NCAA Wrestler in hiding the Hotel for a month before I arrived. He had been training with the Russians and living the life in preparation for his debut. A poster child for the IFC. Black belt, Navy seal, Delta Force, Agent Orange mutherfucker, if you know what I mean. When it got down to the moment, I was to fight their poster guy. An NCAA Div 1 Wrestling and well decorated monster from Michigan. He claimed to be a Brazilian jiu jitsu black belt as well. It was cold and snowy outside but this huge sports arena was to be filled to capacity. Come about an hour before the event begins, Buddy comes in my locker room, peels off a grand and hands it to me. Then, tells me i am going to fight the wrestler, Eric. His poster child. No rules. No time limit. Biting and eye gouging the only things I couldn't do, but it wasn't high priority to tell me that. I was cool with everything until he said "No Time Limit." That really got me moving.
I came out of the locker-room into the huge sports arena. There's an Octagon in the center. 22' X 22'. Buddy's cage from when he produced the first five UFC shows. And, about 18,000 Russians in black and brown overcoats. Filling the seats. All the upper crust were ringside. Holy shit this is Big-time!
I entered the ring with an intense energy and did a lap. The crowd was stoked on me by the response. Then Eric came out. He and I looked to weigh the same. 199lbs but I couldn't be sure. He was done up like an American flag. I had my dad's lucky black spandex bike trunks on with no shoes. I assumed he wouldn't kick with his shoes, but anything was possible. I really didn't want to be kicked or hit for that matter. My strategy was to avoid both. He had a gait of a freestyle wrestler. I had to get him on his hands and knees or maybe his back. This was gonna be some work, but that quickly escaped my worries. My mind was empty, on the verge of insane.
I got in the cage and did everything I had prepared for through imagery a million times before. I was performing with my passion for this "sport" that I have been punished for as a child. My heart was a lion. My hands were whips. My body was a boa constrictor. My mind was empty. I was insane. And I was in a white moment. A moment a like a drug abuser might chase to the grave.
The ref yelled fight and I came out circling, like a predator, with both arms up high over head inviting him to shoot. He didn't right away, so, I winged a huge kick at him that smashed my foot right on his knee. Then, he shot in and got me right to my back where I was most comfortable. Then he went cross-side which I did not want. He trespassed my guard easily. As Eric began to contemplate pounding my head with his knees.What is happening? The monster had me pinned on my back. wedged in the corner of this cage. Preparing to smash my head and body with his powerful knees. Oh, shit! I am in a spot. What to do?? "You cannot give up now. It will all end if you quit." I heard this, my father's voice. I grabbed the fence with my toes and walked up it. Flipping Eric on his back. Putting me on top with the superior position. I was on my knees mounted with one hand gripping the fence. Eric was on his back and exploded to bridge out, but the fence kept me in position. Instinctively, I began to smash down into Eric's face with violent elbows and fists. He rolled right over to his belly, the blood and sweat provided the messy lubricant, right into the Lion Kill choke. I held the choke until the ref pulled me off. I wanted him out, so, he could not dispute the final decision. He tapped. I won. I was the International Fighting Champion.
I felt powerful and I needed to share it. I didn't know what to say when I was interviewed. I was arrogant. I just wanted to call my dad and tell him "I won." Vladimir had an international cell phone " Here, try this."
My brother answered the phone. It was his birthday as well that day. "Dad cannot come to the phone. He died in his sleep an hour ago." he told me....
After hearing of my Dad's Death, needless to say, I didn't take it very well. I was Angry and just didn't realize what was happening. First, I destroyed the locker room. For a good while. When I finally calmed down, I realized my foot was swelling rapidly. It was probably broke from kicking eric in the knee. The Russian medics had the ultimate medical box. A junkies delight. "For Reals? This is Demerol." I loaded the syringe and fucking mainlined it right there in front of everyone. They were tripping, but, it felt great. The needle was a little too large but it worked great.
I hobbled out to the cage to witness the final fight of the eight man tournament. It was Igor Vochachin smashing John Dixon in the face for 18 minutes. A real stand up battle. It made me feel better that I had only fought once this night and not three times. John and Igor were broke and battered.
From there the Russians brought us to their deluxe Bada-Bing Restaurant/ Casino/ Strip-club. Red, Tasha and I arrived together to eat and systematically polish off every drop of alcohol we could find. Then we gambled and I couldn't tell you who won what, but, I remember ending up in the strip-club with The three of us and Leon Spinks, the legendary boxer. He was plastered on Henessy and was stoked on Tasha being there. There was so much turmoil going on around me. Bas threw Paul through a glass door and he was bleeding everywhere, so we took him to the hospital. The hospital reminded me of Jacob's Ladder.
The plane ride home was an interesting one. It was a plane loaded with the walking wounded. Tasha and I sat comfortably in the back together.
We made it home and after a few days I was back into training. I got a call from Buddy. The next event is the 4 man tournament in Biloxi, Mississippi. Winner takes five grand. I was angry and ready to fight in the "Mississippi Meat-grinder.

International Fighting Championships Kiev, Ukraine '96

2012-01-20T17:09:00.000-08:00

MM: Since I was a kid

2012-01-10T16:19:00.000-08:00

Kiev, Ukraine IFC 8 man tournament. No Rules.

2012-01-10T06:47:00.000-08:00

Main st., Huntington Beach '95

The girls were skating by us, with their painted on yellow thongs, as Pop's and I sat in front of the Powerhouse Gym on Main St. Huntington Beach, sippin' our coffees. This is where the Underground infiltrated among the normal society. We had just finished a heavy workout with the weights and were cool'in down with a little chit-chat.
My Dad and I would lift heavy weight at the Powerhouse Gym in Huntington Beach. We were blowing it up real hard and heavy. Going to failure created a pain in my body that I craved like a junkie. The pain threshold was my friend and enemy.
The Egg Whites r' us guy, a short stocky powerlifter, owed us money. Pop's was fix'in on tax'in him. We were gett'in ready to clear out the inventory in the gym when the Ultimate Fighter guy came up to us. Kimo, a notorious street fighter and now rock star after beating the crap outta the now legendary Royce Gracie. So, our attention was quickly diverted to him. He was a respectful guy. He said forget the egg whites. He vowed all of his success to "Steak." Oh, and Jesus. "Goddamn it!" He had to ruin a good thing. "I'm gonna do the fuckin' UFC, one time." I told pop's. He replied "Why?" "Just so I can say that I did. Because I can!" I arrogantly replied. But, I'm not going to let them exploit me.

One day, I sat down to recover and a Bodybuilder comes up to me and says "Hey, your calves are looking nice, bro." I was speechless. My Dad and I were outside later having a cup and I told him I was done with this crap. I realized then that I was only getting "compliments" from guys and not the ladies. Where were the ladies? I decided right then to drop the "bodybuilding" and jump into the fight game. I wanted to be paid to inflict pain and destroy men like the big fucker outside the comedy store. This drove me.

Shortly, after that day is when I met Natasha. She was a hard working secretary at the Medical Lab were Todd Medina and I were workin'. She had a smile like sunshine and she knew what she wanted, My Love. The day after she and I met. I moved my girlfriend out of my condo in Fountain Valley and moved Natasha and her four year old daughter in. It was a lot of drama, but worth it. Natasha was a good girl, and she could really cook. Meals like my Mom used to, before she stopped when I was eleven. I would joke with her "You can't stop this now. I won't be able to fend for myself, if I'm set back out in the wild." I was in love.

Throughout my childhood my number one fan and friend was my Dad. John T. Lober, Sr. He was a wrestler at heart. Everyone liked my dad's sense of humor and he shared everything with them for their happiness. When I was I need , he was always there for me and I loved him. We had a Universal language between us. He got me involved in tackle football at an early age of 8, until I graduated high school. He never missed a practice or a game the entire ten years. After high school, I began to become interested in other sports and work.

The Heavy weight training I was doin' switched to jiujitsu training. Natasha's younger brother Philip and I would train six days a week. By the end of the night, My joints were sore and tore up. My ears were fucking gnarled. Lovely tasha would cook for us and ice us down at the end of every night.
I was just figuring it would keep me outta trouble. The video resume I compiled of my local ground fighting tournaments I had sent to a fight promoter paid off. To my surprise actually. Chris Peters, World Combat League, called me at my condo and asked if I would like to travel to the Ukraine in 10 days and compete in the International Fighting Championship. "Do you want to fight in an 8 man tournament for twenty thousand dollars?" He asked. "Let me check with Philip. "They wanna know if I will fly to the Ukraine Russia and fight in an eight man tournament for 20k" I sarcastically repeated aloud in phillips general direction. "Tonight?" his dumb-ass replied. "Send me the info, I might be able to make that happen." I announced.

When I met Ken Gabrielson and he showed me brazilian jiu jitsu. I believed that I could compete and do very well at this grappling art. My Father will enjoy this I thought to myself. At the age of 28, I had became proficient in the art rapidly, after only six to eight months of training. I was a natural grappler. in '95, after watching UFC 3, I moved to the world class competitive world of what is now Mixed Martial Arts. I compiled a demo tape that was a home video project of me competing in jiu jitsu style matches mainly. Not the best quality by today's standards. I quickly received a phone call one night from a promoter in Kiev, Ukraine. He offered me a fight. My first competitive fight. This was it! I am traveling to another country, a corrupt and violent country at that, and I am fighting a man or men that I have no idea what style fighting or martial arts training or experience level they posses. I am going to compete against this unknown without any rules or time limits or any resemblance of order. Will there even be a referee?? This will be serious. The next day at Ken's garage, where I was training, The Combative Fighting Systems garage. I asked Ken his advice. If he would come with me. I didn't think flyin' to Russia alone was a good idea. I had visions of terrorist Hijacking the plane or bullets zipping past my head as I sprinted for my life tryin' to catch the flailing cargo net off the back, like chuck Norris in Delta-Force. And, besides what if I couldn't' make if back because I got injured? Ken said he couldn't' come this time, but had a lot of good strategy. It was a mission to find someone brave enough to back me up.
I really wanted to do this. Natasha knew this and so did pops. He didn't show his excitement, but he was calling all his friends to boast. "Yeah my son's traveling to Russia to fight. No big deal." he boasted.

It was comi'n to the deadline for gettin' the passports and visas and no man wanted to risk the trip. I was discussing it with Natasha when she said she would come with me. I immediately thought, no way! Bring a girl to a fight. What if something happens? How can she help me? Hmmm. What choice do I have? "Are you sure?" I asked. She replied "Yes. I'm sure."
Prior to this, My dad had a small car accident that forced him through three back surgeries and handed him a huge pain medication problem. I now know why it's referred to as "practicing medicine." Thanks Doc! My Dad was super excited about the fight I was preparing for. He even made it to a training session at Ken's studio once. You could tell he was in pain by the way he hobbled from each place as he would sit for only a short period. Although he wanted so badly to come with me, he couldn't do the plane flight in this pain. Due to his huge tolerance, he was using a tremendous amount of pain killers at this time.

It was only ten hectic days for me to get a passport and find someone brave enough to venture to the Ukraine with me, but I made it. The journey was amazing considering I had never been anywhere besides California and Hawaii. When it got down to the moment, I was to fight their poster guy. An NCAA Div 1 Wrestling and well decorated monster from Michigan. A Brazilian jiu jitsu black belt as well. It was cold and snowy outside but this huge sports arena was to be filled to capacity.
We got the passports and left for the Ukraine. We laid over in NY for a Sunday and saw the entire city sites in the back of a Lincoln Town car. I paid the driver $65 and he was stoked. Sunday mornings in NY are surprisingly calm. We took a lot of photos then got on the plane to the Ukraine...

Love

2012-01-09T14:51:00.000-08:00

When I was young man I decided I wanted to compete as a No Rules Cagefighter. I don't know why, I just did. I ceased being the person I was trying to be and became the person I am. I remember having dreams of survival and fear of being hurt. I didn't want to be hurt. My fear turned into a deeply intense angst.

I played football from eight to eighteen. I attribute my mental and physical toughness to this. "You can turn it on and off like a light switch." my Dad would say to me in our car rides home from practice. He would never let me quit anything I started. Football was sweaty, hard and dirty. I liked it. It became part of me. I played rough! Although, I wasn't the biggest kid, but I had a huge opinion and wasn't afraid to say. This got me into a lot of fights.

I can remember my first real girlfriend, Shannon. I was 22. She was 19. I thought we were gonna be in love forever. I didn't know how to act around anyone but her. Though, I would still fight.

One night, I took her out to the Comedy Store. We were having a nice time. Sipping coffee and watching Tim Allen before tool-time was big. Outside the club, when we were leaving, a real big guy was dragging this girl around by her hair and slapping her in the face. She was screaming for help. I socked that huge fucker right between the eyes as hard as I could. For a moment he just stood there motionless. I thought "Oh shit. I am screwed if this giant hits me." Just then, like a timbering Oak. He fell back, like in slow motion. Boom! He was down. Not out. I circled around to his back as he fumbled to his knees. "He can't get up. He will smash me." I thought. I soccer kicked his face so hard he fell back and split his head wide open on the hard street. The river of blood was my validation. Just then, the girl starts crying help and calling me a son of a bitch. I narrowly escaped with the help of Shannon and learned a valuable lesson. Not to get involved in other peoples business also, that I like hurting men.

Key to fighting #1 : Perpetual motion with balance is a primary key force to fighting. Strength with motion is power. Static strength is a technique ,but, it is limited in it's effectiveness. Speed and quickness are valuable. Bruce Lee said he would bet on a conditioned athlete over the technician, but, combine them and you have ultimate power.

Key to fighting #2 : When engaging multiple opponents, balanced motion becomes important. The fighter must circle his attackers, lining them up and engaging them one at a time. Quickly. If you stop you will get dropped.

Key to fighting #3 : In my polarized world of fighting there are two types of people. Fighters and Librarians! I am gonna say "I'm Sorry" as opposed to "What happened?"

COVER: Inside the Mind...

2012-01-09T13:37:00.000-08:00

Inside the Mind of a Madman: I am in jail

2012-01-08T08:40:00.000-08:00

Did I lose a day somewhere? I have been asleep for a day and a half? I am in jail. Hurry, gotta get up. The gates are opening. Everyone is going somewhere. "Let's go dogg. It's chow time." I leap out of the four man cell into the second story tier. I am in the middle of the narrow walkway with bars on both sides of me. Wait, somethings not right. All of the mexicans at one end and the whites at the other. Those mexicans don't look happy. I smile and wave. The shotcaller for the whites waves me over. "We got a problem. The youngster taxed the old mexican in the showers yesterday and if we don't handle it we are gonna war" he said. Great. First day and it's war. "Looks like we are gonna war" I said. "All we have to do is touch the kid up and it's cool. I heard about you. Your MACHINE, right? Are you down?" he asked. "Fuck, I will handle this." I fucking replied.
We formed a single file line to chow. Through the corridors lined with Deputies. I was behind the kid. We sat down to eat this fine cuisine. It actually wasn't bad. Macaroni and Cheese. Then we filed back to the cells. I passed right past my cell and followed the kid right into his. As he turned around I sunk the Lion Kill and slow choked him out. I didn't want to hurt him or leave any marks so I chose to choke him. I figured that was just enough " touching up" I would do. As I let him go, he fell straight down pile driving his eyebrow into the concrete. Blood and chunks of skin spewed. Uh oh. I was still sleepy and I fucked up. He will get over it. I tossed his unconcious body back into his rack and bailed? I rushed back to my cell just as the gates were closing and jumped onto my rack... This is the first day. How long?...

"I've been fighting my whole life..."

2012-01-05T14:09:00.000-08:00

A State of Mind

2012-01-04T12:20:00.000-08:00

A State of Mind

If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you don't;
If you'd like to win but think you can't,
It's almost a cinch you won't.

If you think you will lose, you've lost;
For out in the world you will find
Success begins with a person's will;
It's all in the state of mind.

Life's battles don't always seem to go
to the strongest or the fastest person,
But sooner or later the person that wins
is the one who thinks he can.

Mentors...

2012-01-04T07:07:00.000-08:00

I feel like my life is formed by the amazing Mentors I have acquired in my lifetime. They deserve the best I can give.

Kinglober/YouTube.com

2012-01-03T21:23:00.000-08:00

New playlists are available now...born to fight HQ...

2012-01-03T21:19:00.000-08:00

Memoirs of a MACHINE: Inside the mind of a Madman

2009-09-30T17:01:00.000-07:00

I am John MACHINE Lober. The Fighter. This is a narcistic Universe of NHB Fighting and all it's chaotic distortions on it's self- destructive and deadly path. This is my story. Of my fighting LIFE.