Punk mal wieder in Bestform, gut gelaunt wie immer.
ZitatAlles anzeigenPunk considers his lack of MMA experience an advantage. He doesn’t have to spend time unlearning poor technique in order to do things the proper way. He also defends Roufus from some recurring allegations—that there’s a hazing culture at his gym and depending on who you are, you might be treated differently.
“I think that’s all bullshit,” says Punk. “From my perspective, I’ve been treated with nothing but respect. And I’ve treated everybody with respect. And in no way, shape, or form do they take it easy on me, but all these stories I’ve heard about Duke? I’ve never seen anything like that. I can’t comment on anyone else’s perspective but my own, but my perspective is that it’s a bunch of horse shit.”
Then things get a little awkward.
When he’s asked about the specific areas he’s working on to improve—a weakness or flaw in his form that he might have fixed—he keeps it general.
“I work on everything,” he says.
I rephrase the question, and his tone gets sharper. He lets out an exasperated chuckle, and shrugs his shoulders.
“It’s a boring answer, because it’s kind of a boring question,” says Punk, making eye contact for the first time since we were introduced. “This is mixed martial arts. I’m not in there one day, working on one specific thing, I’m in there everyday, working on everything. My defense, my wrestling defense, my striking defense. And not only do you have to defend, but you’re being judged by three people who don’t always see what other people are seeing.”
That seems to be the recurring trigger. When asked for specifics or to react to criticisms, Punk is outwardly insulted. The intent of these questions is to allow him to reflect. But he interprets them as personal attacks, either on his intelligence or his moral consistency.
When he’s asked if he is anxious or intimidated to make the transition from professional wrestling (where the punches are performed) to MMA (where the punches have malicious intent), he pushes back. His tone is even, but testy. His smirk seems strained.
“I get this question a lot, and it’s like you guys think I’m an idiot. Like I didn’t know MMA wasn’t pre-determined or something like that,” says Punk. After a pause, he gives me side-eye. “Have you ever tweeted at me, ‘Hey, do you know what you’re getting into?’”
“I never have.”
“Okay. It sounds like you might have.”
“I don’t mean to put you on the defensive…”
“I’m not on the defensive. Your question is insulting. You’re asking me if I know the difference between the WWE and the UFC?”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
“That’s exactly what you’re asking.” When he’s asked how he might respond to fans who question his motives for going into MMA, wonder if it is a publicity stunt, or wonder if he’s ever going to fight, he pushes back again. Now, he’s no longer smiling. “You say my fans say that? You’re mistaken. My fans do not say that. I wouldn’t say anything to them [my critics]. I don’t justify stupidity with an answer. I don’t give a shit what anybody thinks of me, whether I’m going to fight or not. I know what I’m going to do.
“If I did anything in my life based on someone’s negative opinion on me, I would never fucking leave my house. My fans are people who don’t tweet negative shit at me.”
Punk appears to have a strict definition of what a fan is. But there’s an element of interactive dialogue inherent in social media. Can a person be a fan of one aspect or part of person, while disliking other parts? And is there any way to engage in civilized dialogue, or are all criticisms and questions inherently negative?
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