Special Stories book- MMA legend Royce Gracie headlines fundraiser benefiting individuals with disabilities- Part 2 of 2
PART 2 OF 2
I’d built momentum from the last charity event I created, organized, raised funds for, and promoted. Now I needed to replicate its success.
I conducted research, made some calls, and drafted a heartfelt letter to send to Mr. Gracie—asking him if he’d be kind enough to consider donating his time to headline a charity event some three-thousand miles away from his home in Los Angeles. This time I included several news clippings of the last event that Jens Pulver headlined, along with some memorable photos taken at the affair. That was my “bait.” I sent the materials off and waited. A few weeks passed with no word.
Then one day while driving to work, my cell phone rang. I saw a 310 area code displayed on the screen. I knew it was a California number, so I pulled over to a parking lot, inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and then answered the call. It was Royce’s assistant who let me know that Royce had received and read my letter and he was interested in doing the event. She claimed Royce was moved by what I’d sent and, as a result, he’d waive his five-figure appearance fee and fly from California to headline the fundraiser in New Jersey. We just had to find a mutually convenient date that worked. We coordinated a time for Royce to meet me in North Jersey in a few weeks when he would be teaching seminars for a day at a Gracie academy. I thanked Royce’s assistant, hung up, joyously shouted, and then called my wife and then the president of the nonprofit to share the news.
My wife was ecstatic and couldn’t believe it. And the company president happily congratulated me. After we both settled down from our mutual excitement shared over the phone, she then asked, “Who’s Royce Gracie?”
Fast forward 3 weeks…
When I arrived fifteen minutes early at the Gracie Jiu Jitsu academy near the New York State border, there were already a few dozen people milling about in the parking lot awaiting Royce’s arrival. I entered the school where even more folks of various ages and both sexes were grappling on mats. I found the owner, introduced myself, and let him know Royce’s assistant arranged for me to meet Royce there. The owner acknowledged this and politely asked me to take a seat in the waiting area in his facility. As each minute passed, the crowd eventually grew in size to about a hundred. Ten minutes after Royce was scheduled to arrive, the back door of the gym slowly creaked opened. In sauntered an upright, tall, and lean man with dark skin and an intense look on his face.
Royce Gracie.
Whatever chatter and grappling that was happening immediately ceased as soon as the people acknowledged Royce’s presence. Grown men with battered faces, flattened noses, and cauliflowered ears which marked years of training turned into mesmerized little boys with enormous grins on their faces as Royce passed by them. Kids with mouths and eyes wide open followed Royce’s every move. While striding confidently, Royce nodded and shook hands with some of those he passed until he found his way into the center of the large mat. I’d never seen anyone walk so upright. Royce stood so straight, he’d be located to the right of the figure on the right in the evolutionary chart of man.
I sat a few feet away as Royce, dressed in his blue Atama gi with a black belt strapped around his thin waist, prepared to give jiu jitsu lessons to about thirty students of varying ages and of both genders.
Indeed, I was a fortunate spectator.
Wouldn’t a classical musical enthusiast feel privileged to sit a few feet away from Yo Yo Ma and watch him play his cello?
Wouldn’t an art lover be thrilled to sit near Georgia O’Keeffe and watch her paint a Santa Fe landscape in her art studio?
Wouldn’t a presidential historian love to sit a few feet away from Abraham Lincoln as he practiced reciting one of his brilliant speeches?
Ten minutes into the session, the school owner whispered into Royce’s ear, pointed my way, and Royce made eye contact with me for the first time. He nodded. I acknowledged with a smile and thumbs up sign. A few minutes later Royce approached me and flashed his trademark toothy smile.
Standing face-to-face with him on even ground, I noticed Royce was at least an inch taller than me. He’d always been billed as six-feet-one and I’m six-feet-two-inches tall, so I’m not sure how that was.
So much for official stats.
Royce extended his large right hand to shake mine while clapping his left hand on my shoulder. In his thick Portuguese accent he said, “You’re a good man and do good work. Let’s talk during break and we’ll make arrangements for me to do your charity event. It’s a done deal.”
After nearly two hours of giving instructions to his students in his clinic, Royce broke for a break. In a private room I spoke with him for fifteen minutes about the proposed event before he returned back to his work. I have to say, he was a down-to-earth gentleman who seemed to care deeply about the cause.
Although I had many things I wanted to say to him as a fan—along with wanting to get a photo with him—I respected his time, his students’ time—the reason why he was there—and the owner of the school’s time, so I thanked Royce and left. I knew I’d have plenty of chances to speak with Royce and have my picture taken with him at the event. I’m a patient man and could easily wait.
To read more stories about UFC legend Royce Gracie and other UFC champions headlining charity events I created and organized, visit www.specialstoriesbook.com.
