The Oceanic Odyssey: How I Interviewed Eugene Bareman, Israel Adesanya, and Dan Hooker in New Zealand.
Auckland, New Zealand. 08:09 AM. Even though the practice doesn’t officially begin for another hour, I can already count at least 25 people warming up in the main area of the City Kickboxing gym.
Israel Adesanya, Alexander Volkanovski, Dan Hooker, Kai-Kara France — these (and not just these) people need no special introduction to any MMA fan out there. And neither does the impact that the representatives of the tiny nation, located on an island in the Pacific Ocean, have had on the development on one of the world’s fastest-growing sports. Yet, despite the individual talents and athletic excellence of these fighters, their success would be impossible without the involvement of one person — the founder and main coach of CKB, Eugene Bareman. And it’s the mastermind himself, as well as his all-star team that I’ve covered 15,000 km and 3 different continents in hopes of meeting.
Strangely enough, I’ve traveled almost half of the world for this, yet never once thought about what I was going to say once I actually got here. Now, I’m standing by the front desk, mentally kicking myself for not using 36 hours of air travel to come up with a proper explanation of who I am and what the hell I’m doing here. One of the coaches finally notices this lost, 30-year-old child and approaches me with a friendly smile:
Hi there. May I help you?
I’m pretty sure this is Doug Viney — Eugene’s partner and the co-founder of CKB. However, people often look different in real life than in pictures , and I really don’t want to seem like a complete idiot in our very first verbal exchange. So I choose the safe route of refraining from making any assumptions, sticking to:
- Hey! My name’s Dudey, from the She Loves The Gloves blog. Um… I’m here to see Eugene.
- Well, don’t just stand by the door! Come in, sit down, watch the practice. Just take your shoes off.
In this regard, every MMA gym is the same — no shoes or egos on the mats. But even if I didn’t know this, the thought of sauntering inside in my precious Air Jordans would never cross my mind: to me, CKB is the mecca — the place where the almighty gods of war hone their mysterious violent magic.
Doug’s friendliness, however, makes me feel momentarily at ease and I suddenly remember that I’m, in fact, a journalist. A journalist on a very important mission: become the first person to build the proverbial bridge between this phenomenal Kiwi team and Georgian MMA fans… And when I say ‘Georgia’, I mean ‘wine’ — not ‘peaches’ (country, not the state).
Obliging to the no-shoes policy, I leave mine at the entrance and take a seat in the corner, trying to take up as little space as possible. At the same time, I realize that this is probably how little Charlie felt when he first stepped into Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory — nervous, yet happy as hell. Luckily, I have 2.5 hours before my mission actually begins — plenty of time to calm down.
So for the next 150 minutes, I’m trying to see and hear as much as I possibly can without getting in anyone’s way. The first thing that catches my eye is the chill atmosphere at the gym and the laid-back tempo at which the practice is conducted. Well, there’s plenty of time before the class ends, maybe the athletes are just preserving their energy…
But not much changes at 9, which is the “official” starting time of the practice. Surprised, I observe as fighters from the leading MMA organizations in the world drill the same technique over and over again — with playfulness and friendly banter. No one is trying to take anyone’s head off, no one is pushing the pace to see if others can keep up. I guess, sometimes egos really do get left outside the mats because I’ve seen beginner MMA classes being held at 3x this pace. And this — mind you — is a pro practice.
As counterproductive as it may seem, there are quite a few benefits to this approach: this not only means that the athlete is less exhausted at the end of the class but also has a lower chance of getting injured during it. Subsequently, they need less time for recovery and are more likely to show up to the gym tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and the day after that. In total, though, when you put together, say, five days of practicing for two hours at a comparatively lower pace against going hard for 1,5 hours three times a week, the former still is significantly more productive — you put in more work, without getting mentally burnt out in the process from the constant pressure of having to give it your all. Of course, once you actually get into a fight camp, things change drastically. But as far as everyday practice goes, this approach is as effective as any — I mean, the proof is in the pudding: it brought Israel Adesanya and Alex Volkanovski their UFC championships, and got Eugene and CKB “Coach of the Year” and “Gym of the Year” awards in both 2019 and 2020.
The only moments when this chill atmosphere is interrupted and the practice begins to somewhat resemble other MMA classes I’ve seen, is when Eugene Bareman himself gets up and asks for everyone’s attention. This happens three, maybe four times in the entire morning. For the most part, the head coach silently observes his students drilling in pairs, then pauses the action to offer some comments, as well as tips on the practical implementation of the technique in the actual fight — common defensive liabilities of the move, how to seamlessly weave it into a combination, etc. Even though the huge room is packed with people, Bareman speaks in a calm, measured tone, never raising his voice even for a second; and why would he — everyone stops dead in their tracks and listens to every word the moment he begins to talk. How this man is able to create such a chill, fun, and comfortable environment for these athletes while retaining his authority — that’s a mystery I decide to leave for another time. The observation I settle for today is that Bareman runs a tight ship… but his crew of misfits loves and trusts him wholeheartedly.
Soon I realize that the practice is beginning to approach its end: the athletes all gather at one side of the room and sit in a circle on the mats. One by one, each couple gets up and makes their way to the middle, demonstrating the technique they’ve been polishing for the last couple of hours. Bareman observes carefully, offering a comment here and there — or a joke, in the rare case when the attempt is unsuccessful. At the end of the day, everyone gets their share of the coach’s attention. After the last couple is done, a big round of well-deserved applause and the customary shaking of the hands between all the participants of the practice. Chill or not, this is still a martial arts joint. Oss!
Once the clock gets past 10:30, the room is almost entirely empty and the maestro makes his way over to me:
- Hello, I’m Eugene.
- Man, I know who you are, — I’m grinning like a Cheshire cat, trying (and failing) not to fangirl too much.
He smiles, apologizes for making me wait (honestly, I didn’t even notice how the time passed), and dedicates the next hour to answering my questions.
In August 2023, when I was just creating the She Loves the Gloves page, never in a million years could I dare to hope that in less than six months I would be sitting across from Eugene Bareman at CKB, getting my mind blown by nearly every sentence this man is saying.
Hell, I didn’t even travel to New Zealand for MMA — my friends invited me to come since the New Year here is in the middle of summer. So I thought: why not use up some of my vacation days, lay on the beach for a day or two, shake off some of that ever-present existential dread? Yet, instead of rolling on the warm yellow sand, here I am on my second trip to the suburbs that are located nowhere near any of Auckland’s tourist destinations, sitting at a pavillion-like building, which is currently undergoing construction — the team’s need for space is direcrtly proportionate to their growing success.
And if back in August there were many things I didn’t know, it turns out, sitting there and interviewing Eugene, I knew even less. At that moment I didn’t yet know that this was nowhere near my last trip here. That I would spend a few more hours on these red and gray mats, waiting for either Dan Hooker or Israel Adesanya to show up for practice. That more than once this wild goose chase will turn out to be unsuccessful, and I’ll go home without accomplishing my mission. I didn’t know that eventually it would all work out and several voice memos would be added to my phone, with two more interviews recorded to the soundtrack of typical construction noises.
I didn’t know that Dan Hooker would turn out to be exactly the type of guy he is on the screen: friendly, laid-back, and eternally optimistic. The type of guy you want to go bar-hopping with on Friday evenings… with an international passport securely kept in one of your pockets, just in case — you never know how or where the night will end.
And while I did know that Israel Adesanya was infinitely cool, with a unique personality, there was no way I could have known that despite all his recognition and fame, he’d turn out to be an astonishingly down-to-earth, warm, and genuine human being. Neither did I know that he’d actually come to the gym before the start of his wrestling practice to meet me. That our interview would run a little long and he would then be late to said practice, but never for a moment make me feel like he was trying to feed me the standard rinse-and-repeat answers. In fact, he would take his time to think about my questions, and even ask me a few of his own — like, if I’m ever planning to compete myself (I’ll stick to being a keyboard warrior for now, lol).
In that moment, as I’m naively sitting in front of Eugene Bareman, nodding enthusiastically to every word he says, I don’t yet know that whatever he’s telling me now will turn into a 10-page article. An article that will later be read by thousands of people, and excerpts of which will end up being featured on almost every major MMA media outlet and podcast. That the same article, where we discuss Alex Volkanovski’s future bout with my fellow countryman Ilia Topuria, will become somewhat symbolic when in a few weeks Alex will lose the belt he defended 5 times to the 27-year-old ‘El Matador’… Who will inscribe his name in MMA history books as the first-ever Georgian UFC champion.
Indeed, there were plenty of things I didn’t know at that time. But to be completely honest, knowing all this would not change anything about how I felt in that moment: I’d still sit there like Charlie at Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, eternally grateful for the opportunity to walk on the red and gray mats of the MMA Mecca, and witness the almighty Gods of war hone their beautiful, violent magic.
