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Even though the air is thick with sweat and grunts， it doesn’t look like what you might imagine. The floor is a checkerboard of padded puzzle pieces—the type you might see at a kindergarten—and bottled water sits atop neatly stacked shoes. The flag of Brazil， harkening back the perceived beginnings of this sport， partners the Chinese flag on the wall. After the obligatory stretching， partners pair off； then， they square off. Sparing is rigorous， technical， and painful， often involving broken fingers， torn muscles， and not a few black eyes. The painful training is necessary， partly because bouts are imminent， but also because this is serious. This is a job.
Zhang Tiequan （张铁泉） stands with his arms crossed， watching his students with great regard. Directing and advising other coaches， Zhang slips a smile to two young jujitsu fighters as they grapple fiercely on the floor； despite being in guillotine chokes and ankle locks， they return the smile. Training is tough at China Top Team， but they all feel somewhat at home on the sweat soaked floor. As the most well-known Chinese MMA （Mixed Martial Arts， 综合格斗 z4ngh9 g9d7u） fighter on the international scene， Zhang“The Mongolian Wolf” Tiequan hails from the autonomous region of Inner Mongolia and was the first （of two） Chinese fighters to ever be contracted to the world-renowned UFC league. One of the founders of China Top Team—a collection of some of the finest MMA fighters in China today—he currently trains and coaches the next generation of brawlers in Beijing.
Zhang started his fighting career—as many young Inner Mongolians—practicing boke （搏克）， a style of wrestling specific to Mongolia and the Inner Mongolian region. At the age of 15， Zhang began to study Greco-Roman wrestling， and， in 1999， began practicing the Chinese militaryinspired fighting style of Sanda （散打）.
“The first time I saw a video of MMA， I felt incredible！” Zhang recalls， remembering when， in 2005， he was recommended for an MMA project by Chinese-American jujitsu instructor Andy Pi. Zhang was drawn by the prospect of being able to use the many skills he had learned in his varied background.
“The most important reason was that， as a sportsman， I liked the sport of MMA itself， and I like to challenge myself.” Zhang says， adding： “It can also be profitable， and a good way to earn money.”
But， “The Mongolian Wolf” is one of the few to make it. While fighting in the big Asian leagues is a dream for these MMA fighters， it doesn’t keep the lights on. Fighters on their way up have to suffer physically and financially. MMA is a relative newcomer to the international sports scene， a bedlam of fighting styles as a form of sport and entertainment. But， the game’s relative youth means there aren’t many organizations in place to recruit and support fighters， putting the financial burden on the athletes and the clubs. Success stories such as Zhang’s and Big Yao’s are hard to come by， with Chinese fighters seldom making it to a national， let alone international， standard. In Western and East Asian nations， MMA has developed into a thrilling form of entertainment， with winners taking home fame， glory， and the big bucks. However， the booming sport has struggled to find its feet in the Middle Kingdom， and young professional and amateur fighters alike have faced many obstacles on the road towards the bright lights of MMA stardom. Beijing-based MMA trainer， and international business manager （not to mention Ph.D. holder）， Laurent Pinson， hailing from France， has been involved in the Beijing MMA scene since its infancy， first coming to the capital in 2005. “China often attempts to imitate the outside of things，” Pinson commented. “At the time， it was the fighting style in vogue， Chinese fighters tried to replicate it.”
Vale tudo in Portuguese means “anything goes”， and refers to a full contact combat event， with few rules， that gained popularity in Brazil during the 20th century. “It didn’t matter that vale tudo should only be for professionals，” Pinson reflected almost affectionately on the fledgling fights of some of Beijing’s initial MMA matches： “Its one 30-minute round， with head butts， elbows， knees….it didn’t make sense！” After competing himself in these early， chaotic I matches， Pinson and a friend decided to get a bit more serious and opened MMA Beijing， a martial arts training club based in Haidian District， Beijing. While Pinson is competent in teaching MMA in Mandarin， the overwhelming majority of his students and trainees are foreigners.
In the eyes Chinese viewers， Pinson mentions： “As soon as you go to the floor， it is considered very violent， because this looks like a real fight. It becomes a dajia（打架）， or a brawl， rather than a civilized competition.” In Pinson’s experience， when Chinese audiences see the close-quarters grappling and submission techniques common to MMA and unfamiliar as they are with the technique and training of the sport， they often laugh.
However， a break from the traditional aspects of kung fu may be the firestarter this sport needs in for the new generation. Cui Yihui， a 22-year-old student on his summer holiday back to Beijing from studying economics in Chicago， is one of China Top Team’s eager youths who see the real-world value of a sport such as MMA， as opposed to traditional Chinese martial arts.
“On the way，” Alison reflects on the journey to MMA stardom， “some people will give up half way. I think a person who can persist to the end， regardless of the outcome， is the real winner.”
In China， there are currently only two commercial MMA promoters in town； Ranik Ultimate Fighting Federation （appropriately known as RUFF and based out of Shanghai） and Legend Fighting Championship（Legend） from Hong Kong. RUFF， founded by Canadian businessmen Joel Resnick and Saul Rajsky， is the only MMA organization to be sanctioned by the General Administration of Sports of China and is the largest exclusively Chinese MMA promotion. Zhang feels strongly that commercial and media support， rather than government support， will be the driving force for Chinese MMA in the future.
“I believe that， with more media attention， MMA will increase in audience ratings and a lot of people will start to like the sport.”Regardless of how long it takes for mainstream support of MMA to kick off in China， the encouragement of the existing MMA community will ensure that those who have the passion will find their way to the guts and glory of MMA fame， whether it’s in the domestic or international arena. Young athletes like Alison know they’re fighting an uphill battle， but hope is still very much alive：“But we continue to go on， relying on the dream [of reaching the big-time]”. Thankfully， young and up-and-coming fighters like Alison and Big Yao are not alone on the MMA road， and they have the experience of veteran fighters like Zhang to help guide them. “If it is just one person， it’s really hard to go on，” Alison says， “but we can continue to move forward if we do it together.”
Zhang Tiequan （张铁泉） stands with his arms crossed， watching his students with great regard. Directing and advising other coaches， Zhang slips a smile to two young jujitsu fighters as they grapple fiercely on the floor； despite being in guillotine chokes and ankle locks， they return the smile. Training is tough at China Top Team， but they all feel somewhat at home on the sweat soaked floor. As the most well-known Chinese MMA （Mixed Martial Arts， 综合格斗 z4ngh9 g9d7u） fighter on the international scene， Zhang“The Mongolian Wolf” Tiequan hails from the autonomous region of Inner Mongolia and was the first （of two） Chinese fighters to ever be contracted to the world-renowned UFC league. One of the founders of China Top Team—a collection of some of the finest MMA fighters in China today—he currently trains and coaches the next generation of brawlers in Beijing.
Zhang started his fighting career—as many young Inner Mongolians—practicing boke （搏克）， a style of wrestling specific to Mongolia and the Inner Mongolian region. At the age of 15， Zhang began to study Greco-Roman wrestling， and， in 1999， began practicing the Chinese militaryinspired fighting style of Sanda （散打）.
“The first time I saw a video of MMA， I felt incredible！” Zhang recalls， remembering when， in 2005， he was recommended for an MMA project by Chinese-American jujitsu instructor Andy Pi. Zhang was drawn by the prospect of being able to use the many skills he had learned in his varied background.
“The most important reason was that， as a sportsman， I liked the sport of MMA itself， and I like to challenge myself.” Zhang says， adding： “It can also be profitable， and a good way to earn money.”
But， “The Mongolian Wolf” is one of the few to make it. While fighting in the big Asian leagues is a dream for these MMA fighters， it doesn’t keep the lights on. Fighters on their way up have to suffer physically and financially. MMA is a relative newcomer to the international sports scene， a bedlam of fighting styles as a form of sport and entertainment. But， the game’s relative youth means there aren’t many organizations in place to recruit and support fighters， putting the financial burden on the athletes and the clubs. Success stories such as Zhang’s and Big Yao’s are hard to come by， with Chinese fighters seldom making it to a national， let alone international， standard. In Western and East Asian nations， MMA has developed into a thrilling form of entertainment， with winners taking home fame， glory， and the big bucks. However， the booming sport has struggled to find its feet in the Middle Kingdom， and young professional and amateur fighters alike have faced many obstacles on the road towards the bright lights of MMA stardom. Beijing-based MMA trainer， and international business manager （not to mention Ph.D. holder）， Laurent Pinson， hailing from France， has been involved in the Beijing MMA scene since its infancy， first coming to the capital in 2005. “China often attempts to imitate the outside of things，” Pinson commented. “At the time， it was the fighting style in vogue， Chinese fighters tried to replicate it.”
Vale tudo in Portuguese means “anything goes”， and refers to a full contact combat event， with few rules， that gained popularity in Brazil during the 20th century. “It didn’t matter that vale tudo should only be for professionals，” Pinson reflected almost affectionately on the fledgling fights of some of Beijing’s initial MMA matches： “Its one 30-minute round， with head butts， elbows， knees….it didn’t make sense！” After competing himself in these early， chaotic I matches， Pinson and a friend decided to get a bit more serious and opened MMA Beijing， a martial arts training club based in Haidian District， Beijing. While Pinson is competent in teaching MMA in Mandarin， the overwhelming majority of his students and trainees are foreigners.
In the eyes Chinese viewers， Pinson mentions： “As soon as you go to the floor， it is considered very violent， because this looks like a real fight. It becomes a dajia（打架）， or a brawl， rather than a civilized competition.” In Pinson’s experience， when Chinese audiences see the close-quarters grappling and submission techniques common to MMA and unfamiliar as they are with the technique and training of the sport， they often laugh.
However， a break from the traditional aspects of kung fu may be the firestarter this sport needs in for the new generation. Cui Yihui， a 22-year-old student on his summer holiday back to Beijing from studying economics in Chicago， is one of China Top Team’s eager youths who see the real-world value of a sport such as MMA， as opposed to traditional Chinese martial arts.
“On the way，” Alison reflects on the journey to MMA stardom， “some people will give up half way. I think a person who can persist to the end， regardless of the outcome， is the real winner.”
In China， there are currently only two commercial MMA promoters in town； Ranik Ultimate Fighting Federation （appropriately known as RUFF and based out of Shanghai） and Legend Fighting Championship（Legend） from Hong Kong. RUFF， founded by Canadian businessmen Joel Resnick and Saul Rajsky， is the only MMA organization to be sanctioned by the General Administration of Sports of China and is the largest exclusively Chinese MMA promotion. Zhang feels strongly that commercial and media support， rather than government support， will be the driving force for Chinese MMA in the future.
“I believe that， with more media attention， MMA will increase in audience ratings and a lot of people will start to like the sport.”Regardless of how long it takes for mainstream support of MMA to kick off in China， the encouragement of the existing MMA community will ensure that those who have the passion will find their way to the guts and glory of MMA fame， whether it’s in the domestic or international arena. Young athletes like Alison know they’re fighting an uphill battle， but hope is still very much alive：“But we continue to go on， relying on the dream [of reaching the big-time]”. Thankfully， young and up-and-coming fighters like Alison and Big Yao are not alone on the MMA road， and they have the experience of veteran fighters like Zhang to help guide them. “If it is just one person， it’s really hard to go on，” Alison says， “but we can continue to move forward if we do it together.”