jamesofwalsh

Today Elena Cresci won a Muay Thai fight. More specifically, she beat the UK number one at her weight and discipline, and is (or has been) WBC champion and National Champion.

There aren’t many things in the world that I know less about than Muay Thai fighting – Ed Sheeran B-sides, perhaps? – but I do know I am fucking weirdly proud of Len, if proud is exactly the right word for it given I have had nothing to do with her success whatsoever.

But basically I love looking at the little gaggle of people I worked with at the Guardian, which let’s face it was a pretty shit place to work for (sorry, liberals!), and see how much they’re thriving in wonderful ways far beyond the little and limiting world of online journalism.

Len, let’s be clear, is still a journalist – specifically a freelance social video editor and producer. She’s dang good at her job.

But Jesus Mary and Joseph, for her to pull herself from the awful Grauniad environment – with its bullying, its drinking and shit drugs culture, its toxic masculinity, and its weird power structures and struggles – and to go fuck this, leave, thrive, and find herself such an amazing discipline and passion…

It makes me want to high five her repeatedly, or at least meet up for a drink of whatever it is Muay Thai Fighters drink. The tears of their enemies, I suspect. Certainly not booze, I’m guessing.

Len has been much more vocal about what a shit place the Guardian was for young journalists, tho I’m far enough removed from it now to probably start talking and writing about it more – even though I’ve still got friends there, people who I love and care about and are in the union trying to make the place less shit.

But seeing Len do so well makes me think of my other friends who got out, and the brilliant and frankly ludicrous things they’re doing now.

So as mentioned, Len is a Muay Thai Fighter.

I’m a fucking alternative music and comedy promoter, and I’m in an indie-folk band.

Elena is back in Greece and is a fucking SOUND THERAPY practitioner – I shit you not, it’s sound bath therapy all the way for our former comrade.

And Carmen? Well, Carmen… she’s an international woman of mystery. She could be a spy, an assassin, or even the secret boss of the United Nations.

All I know is she’s kept her receipts and if you wronged her, she’s coming for you.

I take my hat off to us all.