Barrel Carriers or Teamakers?

It must take effort to be this angry.

Barrel Carriers or Teamakers?

Last week, I was teaching a class and explaining about Barrel Carriers and Teamakers. It was about an incident that occurred in a local pub where Julie and I were enjoying our usual date night. Just the two of us, cold drinks and a meal.

On the next table, it was clear that the two guys occupying it had started early, not just the drink. One in particular was loud, aggressive, and, not to put too fine a point on it, a pratt.

When he approached the bar for another round, he was refused service, and when asked for an explanation, he was told that he and his friend had been seen going into a toilet cubicle together.

“Finish your drinks and leave,” the barkeep told him.

He was outraged. Seven p.m. and already this guy had consumed enough drink and drugs to be outraged. Go figure.

“We are gay and on our first date!” was his weak explanation for their toilet endeavours.

“Finish your drinks and leave,” repeated the very tolerant barkeep.

Well, it was pick up your barrels time. We have all seen them, Johnny Ten-Men, arms splayed, veins pumping, attitude bristling. He made a show of walking back to his tables, banging his fist and complaining to anyone who cared (nobody did), that this “Isn’t f**king right!”

I looked at Julie and saw her amused face.

“He isn’t going to do anything, is he?” she said, smiling. Julie has been around fighters and fighting most of her life, so she knows what she is talking about.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “He isn’t going to do anything.”

He was, in fact, the amusement of most of the people in the pub.

As I was telling this story, I looked around my class, and you could see some of the students got it too. We’ve all seen this behaviour.

Back at the pub, Ten-Men packed up his barrels, gave the barkeep his best glare and marched to the door. When almost out of it, he turned around and shouted, “I’ll be f**king back for you!” to which the more than patient barkeep just smiled. Heard it all before he had, and they never come back.

“Rewind, if you will,” I told my class. “I travel to the Midlands to fight two full-contact bouts against European MMA champions, and I already know how good they are. I already know I am stepping up a league.

What surprised me was that when we reached the venue, they were outside waiting for me. “A bit early for afters, isn’t it?” I said to Julie, and yes, there was a slight tremor in my voice.

However, when getting out of the car, they moved towards us, shook our hands and carried our bags inside, then proceeded to make us cups of tea.

Peaceful Warrior

They were quietly spoken, incredibly polite and treated Julie like China, the porcelain, not the country.

Then, when it was time to fight, they switched on so quickly, wearing a different set of masks altogether, that it bordered on brilliant.

The aim of this article is not to bore you with fighting, but I’ll hold my hands up, I lost to two better men. They were outstanding fighters.

After an hour or so of full-contact fighting, we were back downstairs, and they were making drinks again, making sure everybody’s cups were full with hot tea. When it was time to go home, they walked us back to the car, carrying our bags, gave Julie a peck on the cheek, me a hearty handshake and said they looked forward to seeing us again, two weeks later, when we would be training on the same course.

MMA Champion

And sure enough, a fortnight later, I was back on the mats with these two men and several of their friends as they again made us welcome into their “home.”

“Here is the question,” I asked my class. “Would you rather be a Barrel Carrier or a Teamaker?”

I know which one I strive to be.

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