Shawn Tompkins left a mark on the MMA community but I will never forget the mark he left on my life.
The sudden death of a friend often hits us with a dose of reality that reaches deep inside our souls. The realization that we have just lost someone can be devastating.
We enter a bizarre twilight zone where we tip toe between the past and present, knowing there will no longer be any future with them, which unfortunately snaps us back to reality. It pains us to no end, but in the case of Shawn Tompkins, the sorrow is masked by the many memories we shared, the majority of which are filled with laughter, courtesy of a man who has left an undeniable mark on my psyche.
Good old "calves"
I first met Shawn on June 2, 2000, when he made his MMA debut for the Universal Combat Challenge. At the time I co-owned Showdown Fightwear, a clothing line catering to MMA athletes and fans. Shawn was one of our very first sponsored fighters and was the very first one to ever wear our products in competition.
He had an aura about him that was gravitating. Yes, the physical build and bleached-blonde hair always stood out in a crowd, but nothing raised more eyebrows than Shawn in a pair of shorts.
I used to tease him and I would call him "calves," as he boasted a pair that were larger than most people's thighs. This of course, was courtesy of the many years he spent throwing kicks, a few of which came my way, reminding me to always be ready to check one at a moment's notice.
He never once intended to hurt me, and in fact never did, but I quickly realized that any thought I had of sparring with Shawn would not be a good idea. The few times I felt his power -- and I'm sure it was below 50 per cent of his maximum -- was good enough for me to make my decision. It would be best to keep things outside of the competition area, and simply work together off the mats, to further our brands.
This relationship forged the foundation for Shawn to spread the product line to his many students, the likes of which included Mark Hominick, as well as Shawn's various gym locations in Southern Ontario. It was Tompkins who helped us design the products for our second company, Showdown Boxing, an equipment line that is still being used to this very day at the Adrenaline Training Center in London, Ont., owned and operated by Hominick and his partners Sam Stout and Chris Horodecki.
Shawn's passion for the intricacies of MMA coaching made him a visionary, not just inside the gym, but outside of it. He was a master marketer who knew the importance of networking and getting his athletes the right coverage.
From his humble beginnings in Tillsonburg, Ont., to the bright lights of Las Vegas, he knew the importance of the media, and how each one of his fighters needed to learn how to manage their time accordingly. It was as if he not only mandated training time in the gym, but also to never say "no" to an interview.
Shawn was a friend who was with me during the ups and downs in the MMA industry. We shared many an experience and thoughts about some of the "not so nice people in the game," while both sailing through troubled waters, some of which affected our own friendship. But through thick and thin, he always remained true to his roots -- in this day and age we refer to it as "being real," a man of his word -- while deeply caring for those within his inner circle.
I am reminded of the many times we would all go out as a group for a meal, sometimes 20 of us, before or after an MMA event. Shawn would set everything up, and when we showed up, he would always rise from his seat, or make a point to excuse himself to say "hello" to me.
At that point, and I lost count years ago, a recurring conversation would ensue as to which one of us was dressed better for the occasion. There was not a time when Shawn would explain how his fashion sense superseded mine -- a trait, I would remind him, that he knew nothing about, and that his wife Emilie was the reason he had any sort of "style" in the first place.
"But it's not my birthday"
One of the items that became consistent was that at some point during the meal, I would be surrounded by the restaurant wait staff, who would begin serenading me with birthday songs.
Problem is, my birthday falls in September, but it did not matter what month it was, Shawn went out of his way to make sure I was the most embarrassed party at the table. I lost count how many times throughout the years I was forced to stand on a seat, told to wear a makeshift birthday hat made of aluminum foil in the shape of antlers, while dozens of folks sang along with the staff.
And if I didn't play along, there would likely be a bruise in my future, whether it be an affectionate leg kick to my thigh, or a punch to my shoulder. And when Shawn punched you, trust me, you felt the effects for days.
The pranks were never-ending, and I could never seem to catch up, while forever falling prey to his humour. He built such a huge lead in this inter-personal battle, I all but gave up trying to catch up sometime in 2003.
And of course, he would continue to pile on the victories, many of which subjected me as the victim in front of some of the sport's dignitaries, legends, and top-tier talent. For Shawn, it was all fair game, and I had no choice but to endure each and every embarrassing scenario.
Always in my corner
Another side of "The Coach" was his knowledge base of MMA technique -- a fountain of strategy that he made clear to me, years ago, I must learn to be a better analyst. He never criticized me for my analysis. In fact, he complimented me every time he saw my work and always sat me down to explain the details a little further.
To Shawn, it was prudent that I represent the sport with class, and that I thoroughly explain why a specific fighter’s footwork was paramount to his technique. That I explain angles correctly. He would show me so many variations to simple basic punching combinations and also expected that I practise and perfect them at home.
In fact, months later at any given UFC event in Sin City, he would want to see me execute them in the gym, be it at Xtreme Couture or The TapouT Research and Development Training Center in Las Vegas.
Shawn was a natural born fighter, a mentor, a father figure and big brother to many of us. I may have been older by one year, but I cannot express how protective he was of my public image, as well as my own personal safety. It didn't matter what city we were in, if Shawn was around, he made sure I was safe. I am reminded of this most recently during UFC 131 fight week in Vancouver.
He had invited me down to a launch party for his Team Tompkins Anti-Bullying program, and wanted to make sure I made an appearance to help support the cause.
I did so without batting an eye; that is, until I showed up and was (ironically enough) bullied by a bouncer at the front door. This gentleman refused to let me in. Shawn noticed and raced to the entrance. We both directed the doorman's eyes to the various big screens in the venue. There was a video montage playing of me interviewing various fighters, to which point Shawn simply informed the gentlemen that I should be allowed entrance.
Afterwards, we laughed at length about the strange scenario, but it just goes to show you, that no matter how busy he was, Shawn was always aware and ready to jump in and save the day.
"Not on my watch"
And he never played favourites, even when it came to comparing me to his self-described "kids" -- Mark Hominick, Sam Stout and Chris Horodecki.
In 2009, during filming of a "Fight School" segment in Vegas, Horodecki double-legged me into the air, dropping me on my back to finish off a technique. Shawn told Chris to take it easy on me, to which Chris and I both explained to him that it was okay.
Just a few weeks earlier, we had filmed some segments with Hominick and Stout in London, and Chris was privy to the friendly beating I received from his business partners. But Shawn would have none of it, and when Chris did it again, "The Polish Hammer" and I both laughed.
As for Shawn, he was not amused. A quick glance from his glaring pupils put both Chris and I in check. It's safe to say there would be no injuries to yours truly under Shawn's clock.
If you believe, you will achieve
As I write this piece, I cannot help but feel for Emilie, Mark, Sam and Chris, as well as the whole Tompkins family. I feel confident that his legacy will live on through each and every one of them, but there is a void created by Shawn's absence that will never be filled.
He was the security blanket that everyone relied upon.
For Emilie, he was her rock. For Mark, Sam and Chris, he was their comfort in knowing that no matter what happened in a bout, win or lose, or what may have occurred in a hard-fought round, when they made their way back to their corner, the calming effect of Shawn's voice and presence meant they would be safe. His advice would be motivating, as they would re-energize themselves within the 60-second break and prime themselves for the next five minutes.
Each one of them will have their fair share of special examples, but case and point, just watch the relationship between Hominick and Tompkins during Mark's epic battle with Jose Aldo at UFC 129 in Toronto.
The moment I received the terrible news
It was "The Machine" who informed me of Shawn's passing, breaking the news to me at the end of a fun day golfing north of Toronto. We were there making contracted appearances while taking shots at one another throughout, one upping each other at every hole.
When I say "fun," I now realize it was solely I who enjoyed the day, knowing now that Mark kept the news from me. He allowed me to enjoy the appearance, never once showing anyone that he was holding in so much emotion. He fought through the whole day, with cameras and fans around him for a full afternoon, never wavering from his typical, selfless behaviour.
But the time eventually came when he could no longer hold it in.
It was around 8:30 p.m. when he finally summoned the courage to tell me, holding in the terrible news from the moment he received it, at I believe 12:30 p.m. after we had just practised hitting a bunch of balls on the driving range.
Then, after a full 18 holes on the links, we joined the attendees at banquet dinner, but I noticed something was not right with Mark. He just seemed distracted, always looking at his phone. For those that do not know, this is not a trait Mark is known for. He then disappeared, returned, and did it again a few more times.
Then, he returned and asked for a moment of my time. I obliged not knowing what was in store. We stepped away from everyone's view and he subsequently informed me of the tragedy.
Time stood still, as I fought back tears with Mark doing the same. Hundreds of thoughts went through my mind, as I stared blankly at the dusk outside.
In the spirit of Shawn's memory, he replicated what his mentor taught him: "think of others before thinking of yourself."
Is this real?
I eventually gathered my senses and knew Mark had to leave immediately. For whatever it's worth, he wanted to stay, portraying a true fighter, whom Shawn taught to overcome adversity and to never show any sign of pain or weakness.
But at that moment, I could not help but feel Mark's pain. I've known him since he was a teenager and I had to get him out of there.
I finally convinced Mark to leave, but perhaps it was more Mark's burden that was overwhelming his senses that truly made that decision to exit. I asked a mutual friend who accompanied him to the golf course to kindly take him home. I know not of what was discussed in the two-and-a-half-hour ride home for both of them, but I could just imagine how Mark's phone rang off the hook.
By unfortunate default, he has now become the centre of the Team Tompkins universe, with everyone reaching out to him with questions, comments and concerns, not allowing him the process to grieve, deal and battle the sorrow that comes with losing the man who he has always stated, stepped in as a father figure after Mark lost his own dad just few short years ago.
Shawn gladly accepted that role, and the proof is in the pudding: just look at the man Mark has become today.
Will we ever be able to say "goodbye"?
Saying goodbye to my friend will not be easy, but his memory will live with me until my time on this planet has come to an end.
He was pivotal in not only shaping my own career, but sculpting my persona as a man.
He cannot and will not be replaced, but he will live through vividly in the careers of his three favourite "kids." How these three warriors will now deal with no longer having Shawn physically in their corner is beyond me. But in his honour, I can guarantee they will never allow defeat to come easy, while each and every victory will be celebrated with far more passion than ever before.
Every win will be dedicated to the man who made them who they are today. For it was Shawn Tompkins who was the scientist who created "The Machine," the manufacturer who fabricated "The Polish Hammer" and the surgeon who painstakingly developed the "Hands of Stone."
He taught us all to fear no one, respect everyone and to believe in our talents. Whatever natural gifts we had, to make sure we hone them and make them better. He preached that there was never a replacement for hard work, never a bad time to make somebody smile and above all, to never forget who your family is, be it blood or not, especially those who helped get you to where you are today.
Shawn Tompkins never stopped helping me along my journey and always stated how proud he was of what I accomplished. I am forever in his debt and thankful for every moment we shared across this continent. It's safe to say, it will be forever difficult to hear the singing of a happy birthday inside a restaurant without wondering if Shawn is giggling somewhere in the heavens.
I will miss all of his pranks, our impromptu fashion competitions and his unmatched welcoming demeanour. He will forever live on in my memory as a foundation for working diligently to perfect my craft.
He may be gone, but I know he's in my corner. I am blessed to have known him, and like thousands of others, truly lucky to have been touched by his spirit.
Rest in peace my friend.
