They’d come for a taste of the real thing — or the closest version available to the conspicuously underage. Written in large white script on the posters for the event — separate posters than those distributed for the concurrent adult USA Mixed Martial Arts Federation National Championships, a novice tournament to determine members of a US national team — was the word “Pankration.” For kids under 65 pounds, but not yet aware of that as a weight class, it would have been a fresh piece of vocabulary. It comes from Greek. It means “All of Power” and it was a word used to describe a form of combat in which future soldiers punched and grappled with each other. Hercules was said to have invented the bloodsport. But if the competition at Isle of Capri owed anything to the barea athla or “heavy events” of the 7th century BCE, it owed considerably more to UFC. The kids, flexing during weigh-ins and cockily flashing mouthguarded smiles, emulated their heroes: Chris Weidman, Tyron Woodley, Conor McGregor. They did not, however — minus a few misthrown punches — strike each other in the head. They did visit with a physician after each bout. These are the compromises that the United States Fight League has made in order to assure parents that their children will be safe while fighting each other in cages. The league has never reported a single concussion. To watch young boy clash in a USFL match is to witness the logic of karate class — empower kids and engage them physically through self-defense training — taken to its logical extreme. The difference, of course, is that the kids at USFL tournaments don’t just stand there waiting to defend themselves should their opponent make a move. The kids attack. Inside the Isle of Capri Casino, they did so in practiced motions. They did so with both ferocity and evident joy. Winners soaked it in. Loser marinated in their failures. Kids shook or laughed off pain. It was hard to look away so Fatherly didn’t.
