Some of you might be too new to the sport to remember the #IFL or International Fight League, but for those of you that do, perhaps you will also remember the “official” IFL song. It was our anthem, a little ditty that we recorded for the promotion. It was such a blast to be a part of, so I figured I would tell you all the story of how that song came to be.
We went to a studio with a record producer, the great Jazze Pha, and we all had to sing a few lines, as there were some other coaches involved in the production of it.
I must tell you the truth, this was during my wild and crazy “Bas part of life.” I was extremely tanked already when we went there, and of course, the madness didn’t stop at the studio.
I remember trying to help the other guys that had never tried anything out of their comfort zone. I had the all the attitude of a seasoned pro who could help them become the legendary singers I knew were hidden within them. Let’s just say my days of being a record producer were limited to that one experience.
The next day, we were in the arena and the song came on. I asked, ‘Is that me singing?’ They acknowledged that is was, indeed, me. Did I sing that yesterday? Because I had no recollection of me singing Frank Sinatra. I do remember singing, well, rapping, or as I like to call it: a very bad attempt at trying to rap, but the opening, where I’m belting out the words to "New York, New York" — yeah, that’s still a fog to me, and I can’t, for the life of me, remember recording that bit.
After the session was over, they told me that two big guys had to carry me to my room—by my hands and feet, no less. Now, it finally began to make sense why I was sleeping in my clothes on top of the bed, instead of under the covers.
The IFL was a very cool organization and those memories are some of the best ones I have. All the coaches… man, we had so much fun doing all these crazy things together in the days before the fights, and then we would try to beat the crap out of the other teams the very next day. There’s something so pure about combat sports in that sense.
Guys (and ladies) often make friendships with the the people they’re trying to send to the Sandman, and with the IFL, there were a lot of fighters and coaches that were hanging out with each other after doing battle. You’d go in, beat each other up, get cleaned up, and after that was done, everybody was hanging out again. Those days really were some of my fondest memories in life. What a camaraderie!
Godspeed and party on!
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