To receive a nickname at Buckhead Jiu-Jitsu was like being knighted by Sam (“I anoint thee, Lord of the Half Guard”). It also served as a way to differentiate ourselves from the growing membership where many (inevitably) shared a first name and there’s only so many ways to use modifiers for a Matt or a Shane or a Ryan.
“Blue belt Michael?”
“No, white belt Michael.”
“White belt Michael that has the weird girlfriend or white belt Michael with the cool girlfriend?”
“No. The white belt Michael that just joined.”
“There’s another Michael? I think we hit our quota for Michaels. No more Michaels. We’ll at least have to call one ‘Mike.’”
Hence students became “Ruthless,” “Hannibal,” or the “Lion Killer” – a play on their real names, but also befitting their jiu-jitsu. There was also “Dr. Sleep” and the “Lebanese Hammer” – names earned through impressive competition performances. But there was also “Rich.com” and “Cindy Mancini” – names quickly forgotten and probably a surprise anyone remembered these. To say some were better than others was an understatement.
On occasion a few of us ended up with a couple of nicknames. For example, Matt Shand’s official nickname was “Mattress” which had a decent story attached to it, but far from intimidating or “cool.” It would be better if the tale involved putting people to sleep or double legging opponents through the floor, but alas that would be disingenuous. So the official Sam-generated nickname faded from memory until Matt Shand became “Slothguard” or simply “Sloth.” Although being sloth-like did not reflect his jiu-jitsu, but irony trumps (slightly) embarrassing stories.
I went months and months without a Buckhead Jiu-Jitsu nickname. My real name (Tom) carried tons of potential and I’ve burned through a number of nicknames throughout my life (pre-BJJ). Some long-forgotten and some that still pop up when around the right (or wrong) group, but otherwise each chapter of my life bred new forms of addressing me. Which, as an aside, is interesting to watch my wife adapt to hearing or using these various names depending on who’s around.
Yet, thus far, I’d avoided any significant moments to define my jiu-jitsu journey at Buckhead. I was simply “Tom” and it could be worse. I was half scared that Matt (The Lion Killer) De Leon’s not-so-subtle attempts at nicknaming me “Thomas the Tank Engine” would catch on or someone would chime in with “Tom Thumb” or “Peeping Tom” or any other common Tom-centric sobriquets.
Then one Saturday it happened, I received my first jiu-jitsu moniker.
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Prophetically, we were talking about nicknames right before class. Sitting in a huddle of white and blue belts, we went around the room pointing out all the good nicknames and some of the bad ones. I admitted to being fine without one. I’d rather have none than a bad one.
Generally, I kept my head down and my lips sealed, hoping to snake my way through my jiu-jitsu journey without becoming the dude that sharted from a body triangle or the guy rumored to be on TRT. I didn’t want to be the rage machine who called out other white belts on Facebook or the “competitor” that found every excuse not to compete. Quite simply, I was okay with just being “Tom.” With fears percolating in my head, class started.
Not ten minutes later, while we drilled standing guard openings, Sam yelled out, “Tom Sawyer, Modern Day Warrior.” A few of us glanced at each other with confusion. Then Sam repeated it even louder as he rushed to his iPhone. With a blur of thumbs, he called up distorted guitars and drums. With a big grin, Sam repeated, “Tom Sawyer, Modern Day Warrior.” He looked right at me.
The Rush song continued playing. The group of us, the ones chatting before class, started laughing and almost dropped our partners. There it was, I became “Tom Sawyer, Modern Day Warrior.” Not that I’m a Rush fan, but it could’ve been a lot worse. I took it in stride and embraced the nickname as it included a built-in theme song.
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A month or so passed. I’d leaned into “Tom Sawyer, Modern Day Warrior” so much so that I (and as all “jiu-jitsu is life” white belts do) started a BJJ-focused Instagram account under the handle “@tsmoderndaywarrior.” I mostly reposted memes, rudimentary insights about training, and overall didn’t know shit about both jiu-jitsu and using Instagram effectively (still don’t). But there I was, planting my flag in the growing world of BJJ internet content.
Yet it felt…not really “me.” There was no real flavor to the account. No real personality. I was simply another random white belt in a sea of delusional white belts on the internet. The chances of me getting a blue belt were probably pretty slim. The chances of me making it to black belt were probably nil. Hence, this Instagram would probably collect dust, be repurposed to something else, or simply deleted entirely once I grew bored.
Then a month or so passed. For some reason (which I forget), I had to call Sam’s cellphone. My cellphone number popped up as he answered.
“What zip code is that,” is a common question I hear and Sam also asked.
My semi-Rumpelstiltskin secret came to light. It’s not that I hide where I’m from, but I also don’t flaunt it by wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with “Made in Alaska” on the front (which is a hot seller in Alaska, especially for baby clothing). And really, you have to dig pretty far into my personality to find some nuggets that are influenced by my time in Alaska.
I don’t prefer dog sledding over driving a car. I’m not the greatest skier or snowboarder. In fact I’m not good at any winter sports. Maybe that is a slightly exaggerating, as I know how to ice skate, ski, snowboard, snowshoe, snow (fill-in-blank), etc. I generally know how to protect myself from or avoid big wildlife such as bears and moose. I have been known to fish and successfully shoot an animal with a rifle. So compared to someone that say grew up in Florida, I’m probably (very operative word there) a fraction more competent at winter sports. Yet compared to most people that grew up with legit winters, I’m fairly incompetent at the vast majority of winter activities.
While writing this I really struggled to find one outside winter-specific activity I enjoy and therefore thrive at. Honestly there are none. There are a laundry list of outdoor winter-specific activities I’m accidentally competent at – shoveling, driving, defrosting a windshield, walk-shuffling across ice, etc.
So, yes…I was born and “raised” in Alaska. It’s just a factoid about me. A trivia question with trivial value beyond my friends and family. When this came to light, though, Sam was still deep into his Game of Thrones fandom.
“If I’d known you were from Alaska, I would’ve called you White Wolf.”
And there it was…White Wolf.
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There it was, finally a nickname not predicated on my first name (and thankfully not my last name either). This was something new, even manifesting a spirit animal – The White Wolf. The more I thought about this new name, the more I warmed to it; as if all this time I was waiting for something like this to gravitate towards. It fit too well to ignore, allowing various wrinkles and usages and symbolism. Hence the birth of my second jiu-jitsu nickname came to pass and why I name all my social media White Wolf BJJ.
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