NO RULES IS NO RULES | 01
Joey is a street fighter
ENGLAND—It’s a cold day for violence. The ground’s frosty and the air hurts. Gloves and scarves weather. Either way, violence is happening. Two men have agreed to attack each other at a prearranged location in Hastings, UK. I’m driving through southern backroads headed to the desolate seaside town where the fight is due to take place. I’m an outsider to all involved, and they all hate journalists. Still, for some reason I’ve been trusted to attend.
This planned combat isn’t about solving a dispute. The two men have no hatred or real animosity toward one another. They just want to fight. Not in a ring, or with gloves, or with rounds, though. This is something else. There will be no judges or sporting organisations. No health checks or even a weigh-in. No safety gear and no precautions. The fight won’t be televised and there will be no official sponsors. It’s important to understand that this is not unlicensed MMA, street beef, or bare knuckle boxing. This is a new form of organised violence. People involved have coined it No Rules. And yes, No Rules means no rules. Anything goes: kicking, punching, head-butting, elbows, knees, eye-gouging, head stamping, choking, and even biting. What’s more, authentic No Rules has to take place on concrete or something equivalent. Hard floors and no rules. It’s as extreme as it gets.
Google Maps pings. I’ve got to reach a location the fighters texted to me yesterday, and then I’ve got to wait. I’m close. I pull onto a side road through a small, wooded area, and follow the route ahead. It’s mid-January and the sun’s going down fast. The sky is red and orange. You can feel the outside cold inside the car. Hardly ideal fighting weather.
My phone rings. Caller ID: Joey Hapgood. I put him on loudspeaker as I navigate toward the meeting point.
“How far away are you?” Joey asks, with a thick Welsh accent.
“Not far now,” I say.
“Ok. Give me a ring when you’re near…”
“Yeah, cool.”
Hangs up.
Joey is a street fighter from south Wales. He’s 27-years-old and by far one of the most energetic people I’ve ever met in my life. If methamphetamine was a person, it’d be Joey. Most times I speak with him he’s bouncing off the walls. He’s extremely friendly and genuine. He can only be himself. It’s a contagious energy.
Perhaps at odds with his happy demeanour, Joey is desperate to make a name for himself in the underground fight scene. He’s tough as bricks and scared of nobody, and as an up-and-comer, he’s hungry to prove himself. Generally, No Rules is organised through illegal fight clubs, but Joey’s ready anywhere.
I reach the location: a large but otherwise nondescript car park surrounded by trees and streetlights. When I get out the car, I hear Joey before I see him. He’s with a few friends and is already shadow-boxing on the spot, casting rapid phosphor coated shadows. He laughs loudly every few seconds. He can’t wait.
“Yes boy!” Joey shouts as I approach.
We shake hands and he hugs me like an old friend. This is the first time we’ve ever met.
Joey’s travelled 200 miles from Port Talbot to be here at this random car park in Hastings. It’s took him five hours. He’s come to fight an old school No Rules fighter nicknamed Bash. The pair organised the fight over Instagram DMs. Joey’s dream is to be respected in the clandestine No Rules scene.
“Anything could happen at any time,” he says. “You could lose fingers, ears, nose, balls... That’s the thing about No Rules, you don’t know what the hell’s going to happen when.”
He’s not wrong. The man he’s about to fight is notorious in the underground for biting off a piece of another man’s ear in a No Rules fight a couple years back. The brawl took place in a closed mechanics garage. Despite permanently disfiguring his opponent with his teeth, Bash actually lost the fight. He was knocked to the ground by his opponent who then pushed both thumbs deep into Bash’s eye sockets. Bash, screaming, was then saved by the makeshift referee who stopped the fight.
There are only two ways for No Rules to end—either you get knocked out, or you get beaten so badly the appointed referee steps in. Referee, in this case, is a loose term. It’s basically anyone involved who’s allocated as the guy who has to stop the fight when a one-sided beating continues for an extended period. Some stop the fight when head stamping or eye gouging starts, others don’t. There’s no rulebook. The only use for a towel in No Rules is to mop up the blood.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Jeeeez!