DeltaSigChi4
05-12-2006, 08:52 PM
05.05.2006
Marcelo Tigre
From poverty to MMA stardom - Part 1
By Luca Atalla and Gustavo Aragao
Full Story (http://www.graciemag.com/?c=146&a=4230) from GracieMag.com
http://www.graciemag.com/data/images/news/categories/cat_146/M________ARCELOTIGRE_02.jpg
?It really doesn?t matter if it?s Tom Erikson or Mark Kerr, they?ll have to kill me to beat and to kill me they?ll have to exchange blows." ? Marcelo Tigre in 1999
Briefly prior to his debut as a fighter, Marcelo Alves Eneas Dantas used to spend his nights outside his shack in Natal, the capital of northern Brazilian state of Rio Grande do Norte. He used to entertain himself with the spinning of Mother Luzia lighthouse. Many times he didn?t know what he was going to eat the next day but he chose to occupy his mind with something else: ?I?m going to be a MMA champion,? he dreamed.
?
Nowadays, as a recognized fighter,?with more than 40 fights, only three defeats?and as the holder of the Extreme Wars belt after snapping John Lober?s arm Marcelo steps in for a MMA fight the same way he used to play as goalkeeper on soccer games in his high school, in Natal.
That attitude maybe explains his sucssess: ?They don?t know my story, the history of the people from the northeast of Brazil. To be slaped in the face for a few minutes is nothing to us. It?s a piece of cake for those who fight 24/7 for its survical,? he explains. ?The dirt water that I drank from the wells gave me the gas to go to the end of the fights and the work with a blunt hoe gave the stamina?that I need to throw my opponents to the ground.?
Ignorance from the cradle
Things were looking grim for Ms Maria Dantas in the capital city of Rio Grande do Norte back in 1984, so she decided to move with her son to Varzea Grande, a little town in the northeast inland, where?her father lived. ?It was a lot of trouble. We picked cotton and waited for the government truck that brought water, butter and beans,? remembers Tigre that was 11 at the time. ?The house, made of clay, had no floor and the bathroom was the backyard of the small farm. We would go far away to use the latrine,? reveals.
http://www.graciemag.com/data/images/news/categories/cat_146/M________ARCELOTIGRE_01.jpg
Meeting with the family in Santo Antonio do Salto da Onca. ?Where I became a tough guy.?
Today, his grandfather Ze is dead but the house remains. ?It?s all new now, we even have a cemented floor,? he says (this story was published in 1999). The conditions improved a bit but the pictures of Frei Damiao and Padre Cicero (religious icons from the northeast of Brazil) still hang on the wall.?We spent one year living in Varzea Grande and then moved to Santo Antonio do Salto da Onca, a more developed town, where the rest of our family lived.
It was there that my life begun, it was there that I begun to turn into a tough guy,? reveals the fighter. ?My family is too ignorant and for that I thank them a lot and also have much anger,? he confesses. ?When I was 12, while I helped the family to build our house I plunged the shovel in my foot. Blood gushed out and as I started to cry, my uncle Ze?da Conceicao yelled: ?Are you a fag of some kind? Throw some sand on the wound and get back to work. You?ll get beaten if your mother has to take you to the hospital.? I have the scar until this day,? he says.
That was, as he says, small potatoes. Once, when I was 13, things got much more complicated. ?A boyfriend of my mother spread that I had stolen money from him. My family gathered and asked if it was true. I assured it was not and they gave me a large knife and told me to go kill the guy. I shook but had to go on. If I said no, the dead would be me,? he bets. ?We set a stake out for the guy and when he arrived I asked him if it was true that he was calling me a thief. He got on his knees, begged me not to kill him and apologized. My cousins pressured me to kill him but I managed to convince them. ?I?m no coward. I can?t kill a guy on his knees,? I argued. Once I was alone I sat on the floor and cried.?
Life went on and things didn?t get better. ?We starved, really starved,? he remembers. There was a time when I got a girlfriend and I used to go to her house backyard everynight. She woukd feed me sweet potatoes hidden from her family. She would throw it out the window and I would have to fight for the potatoes with a dog that would?bit my leg and threw to the ground. I would get home all scratched and bitten but with a full belly. It happened so often that the dog eventually became my friend.?
It was still in Santo Antonio that Tigre thought about being a fighter:?I took Tigre to Ze Arnaldo?s ?Full Contato? academy,? remembers Marcio, a helper in the gym at the time and Tigre?s first martial arts teacher. ?I warned him: if you get in trouble I?l beat the?crap out?of you.? around that time, his mother lost her job and began having troubles to support?her son, so Tigre decided to try his luck: ? I left at five o?clock in the morning, with only a pair of underwear and the clothes I was wearing. I hitchhiked the milk truck up to Natal and payed the trip helping him on the way. I was in search for my destiny,? he remembers.
End of Part 1
- MM
Marcelo Tigre
From poverty to MMA stardom - Part 1
By Luca Atalla and Gustavo Aragao
Full Story (http://www.graciemag.com/?c=146&a=4230) from GracieMag.com
http://www.graciemag.com/data/images/news/categories/cat_146/M________ARCELOTIGRE_02.jpg
?It really doesn?t matter if it?s Tom Erikson or Mark Kerr, they?ll have to kill me to beat and to kill me they?ll have to exchange blows." ? Marcelo Tigre in 1999
Briefly prior to his debut as a fighter, Marcelo Alves Eneas Dantas used to spend his nights outside his shack in Natal, the capital of northern Brazilian state of Rio Grande do Norte. He used to entertain himself with the spinning of Mother Luzia lighthouse. Many times he didn?t know what he was going to eat the next day but he chose to occupy his mind with something else: ?I?m going to be a MMA champion,? he dreamed.
?
Nowadays, as a recognized fighter,?with more than 40 fights, only three defeats?and as the holder of the Extreme Wars belt after snapping John Lober?s arm Marcelo steps in for a MMA fight the same way he used to play as goalkeeper on soccer games in his high school, in Natal.
That attitude maybe explains his sucssess: ?They don?t know my story, the history of the people from the northeast of Brazil. To be slaped in the face for a few minutes is nothing to us. It?s a piece of cake for those who fight 24/7 for its survical,? he explains. ?The dirt water that I drank from the wells gave me the gas to go to the end of the fights and the work with a blunt hoe gave the stamina?that I need to throw my opponents to the ground.?
Ignorance from the cradle
Things were looking grim for Ms Maria Dantas in the capital city of Rio Grande do Norte back in 1984, so she decided to move with her son to Varzea Grande, a little town in the northeast inland, where?her father lived. ?It was a lot of trouble. We picked cotton and waited for the government truck that brought water, butter and beans,? remembers Tigre that was 11 at the time. ?The house, made of clay, had no floor and the bathroom was the backyard of the small farm. We would go far away to use the latrine,? reveals.
http://www.graciemag.com/data/images/news/categories/cat_146/M________ARCELOTIGRE_01.jpg
Meeting with the family in Santo Antonio do Salto da Onca. ?Where I became a tough guy.?
Today, his grandfather Ze is dead but the house remains. ?It?s all new now, we even have a cemented floor,? he says (this story was published in 1999). The conditions improved a bit but the pictures of Frei Damiao and Padre Cicero (religious icons from the northeast of Brazil) still hang on the wall.?We spent one year living in Varzea Grande and then moved to Santo Antonio do Salto da Onca, a more developed town, where the rest of our family lived.
It was there that my life begun, it was there that I begun to turn into a tough guy,? reveals the fighter. ?My family is too ignorant and for that I thank them a lot and also have much anger,? he confesses. ?When I was 12, while I helped the family to build our house I plunged the shovel in my foot. Blood gushed out and as I started to cry, my uncle Ze?da Conceicao yelled: ?Are you a fag of some kind? Throw some sand on the wound and get back to work. You?ll get beaten if your mother has to take you to the hospital.? I have the scar until this day,? he says.
That was, as he says, small potatoes. Once, when I was 13, things got much more complicated. ?A boyfriend of my mother spread that I had stolen money from him. My family gathered and asked if it was true. I assured it was not and they gave me a large knife and told me to go kill the guy. I shook but had to go on. If I said no, the dead would be me,? he bets. ?We set a stake out for the guy and when he arrived I asked him if it was true that he was calling me a thief. He got on his knees, begged me not to kill him and apologized. My cousins pressured me to kill him but I managed to convince them. ?I?m no coward. I can?t kill a guy on his knees,? I argued. Once I was alone I sat on the floor and cried.?
Life went on and things didn?t get better. ?We starved, really starved,? he remembers. There was a time when I got a girlfriend and I used to go to her house backyard everynight. She woukd feed me sweet potatoes hidden from her family. She would throw it out the window and I would have to fight for the potatoes with a dog that would?bit my leg and threw to the ground. I would get home all scratched and bitten but with a full belly. It happened so often that the dog eventually became my friend.?
It was still in Santo Antonio that Tigre thought about being a fighter:?I took Tigre to Ze Arnaldo?s ?Full Contato? academy,? remembers Marcio, a helper in the gym at the time and Tigre?s first martial arts teacher. ?I warned him: if you get in trouble I?l beat the?crap out?of you.? around that time, his mother lost her job and began having troubles to support?her son, so Tigre decided to try his luck: ? I left at five o?clock in the morning, with only a pair of underwear and the clothes I was wearing. I hitchhiked the milk truck up to Natal and payed the trip helping him on the way. I was in search for my destiny,? he remembers.
End of Part 1
- MM