How Colossus fought ‘Reem to save his ex-girlfriend’s house
The incredible FightLand just got bigger, as James “The Colossus” Thompson has begun to put some of his favorite stories…
The incredible FightLand just got bigger, as James “The Colossus” Thompson has begun to put some of his favorite stories down in writing for them.
Here Thompson talks about how he accepted the fight with Alistair Overeem at Dream12, on October 25, 2009 in Osaka, Japan.
I was in the bookies and winning, so at the time I was in a good mood, so I took the call (small note: Fellas, if you’re in a good mood, the chances of talking to your ex and that mood improving or even maintaining are slim to none). The Merlean started to explain to me that the bank had sent her papers saying they had mistakenly paid me too much money (which I’d gambled away), and since her name was on my account (part of a failed attempt to make it harder for me to gamble), they were now in the process of taking one of her assets, i.e., her house.
We’d split up due to my gambling and I’d really put her though it—and when I say it, think about a s—-er version of hell. Even after we’d split up it seemed I was still able to f— her life up. I tried to calm her down, while secretly freaking out. I promised I’d get her the money. I apologized and told her I’d be in touch real soon. I put the phone down and racked my brain about how to get a large amount of money quickly. Actually, that’s not quite true: I went back in the bookies, lost around a grand, then I racked my brain about how to get a large amount of money quickly.
That night I was woken up by a phone call at the unsociable time of three in the morning. It was my agent, Ken Pavia, aka the Pav. He was calling from some remote part of the world where the time difference was, well, very different. The Pav has never been great with time differences, something I pointed out to him using as many four-letter words as I could, all of which didn’t affect him at all. The Pav was already five espressos into his day and firing on all cylinders.
I managed to make out that a couple of Alistair Overeem’s opponents had pulled out of the Dream 12 main event in Japan, and that the promoters were asking if I would fight him? The money was good, Pav said, because the offer was last minute. “What’s ‘last minute’?” I asked. “This Sunday” was the reply. This convo was talking place on Tuesday, and our flight would be Thursday and I’d fight Sunday “I’m in, I said. Do that thing you do and let me retreat to the glorious embrace of sleep.” (More likely I slurred, “I’m in, now f— off. Me and the Pav are past the nicety stage.) I drifted back to sleep. Which surprisingly didn’t consist of nightmares of my internal organs being made into a fine liquid paste by Overeem and his über knees.
The lateness of the hour and my exhaustion and stress were probably why upon waking and making myself some breakfast (protein shake) the night’s/morning’s events escaped me and I completely forgot about that conversation with Pav. My mind got back to figuring out how to make some quick cash to make the Merlean problem (which was really my problem that had infected her) go away.
While I was going though my daily facebooking ritual I read a message from the Pav saying he needed the names of my cornermen urgently for my main event match in Dream … against Alistair Overeem.
Now, I don’t know how many people will be able to relate to what I felt at that moment. Let’s have a quick recap. The previous day I’d had the news the bank were coming for my long-suffering ex’s house due to my gambling debts. Fast forward to the late-night/early-morning conversation I had barely any recollection of telling me that I was due to fight Alistair Overeem, one of the best heavyweights in the world, in a couple of days. And I was in the worst shape ever. I felt an amalgamation of emotions. The first was relief that I could now save the Merlean house. This was closely followed by abject terror.