CAGE FIGHTER The two lives of Renato Aquino STORY BY DANNY CROSS • PHOTOS BY TODD COOPER Renato Aquino's 6-year-old son was asked what would happen when his father stepped into the octagon at the Emerald City Cage Fights II, a mixed martial arts competition that wouldn't end until a participant was knocked unconscious, submitted or was beaten so badly that the referee had to stop the fight. "He's gonna get beat up," young Alex said. Standing nearby, his father burst into laughter and pleaded, "I'm supposed to win, man!" Aquino wasn't surprised at his son's prediction. The holder of an average Muay Thai boxing record after 25 fights, Aquino had never stepped into the octagon for a mixed martial arts (MMA) fight before. Because he normally participates in Muay Thai bouts in Canada or on the East Coast, he decided to enter the local cage fight so his son could see him compete. "I feel like if you can explain to a kid that it is a sport , and teach them how to control their anger, I think it's one of the best things a kid can get into," he said. Common perceptions of MMA fights are that the bouts are dangerously brutal, the fighters animalistic and violent. Steve Newport, who refereed the Emerald City Cage Fights II, says the sport is actually safer than boxing because the bouts are shorter and are stopped as soon as a fighter is vulnerable or defenseless. "Once the guy is out we don't stand the guy up and tell him he's OK and let him get hit again," said Newport, comparing cage fights to boxing matches where a fighter has 10 seconds to stand up and resume the bout after a knock down. "That's when the damage really occurs. When you're done, you're done." Newport, who is licensed by the Oregon Boxing Commission as an emergency medical technician, explained that during amateur bouts there are stricter rules, such as eliminating elbows and kneeing an opponent when down, that further protect the fighters. Referees can stop fights as soon as they deem it appropriate. "My job is fighter safety," he said. "Anything in the ring, I have full control over that." Aquino, 29, works as a caretaker for people with disabilities during the day and trains for fighting at night. He doesn't belong to a gym and conditions his body by doing situps and pushups and wailing on a punching bag called "Bricks" that hangs above the wood patio at his south Eugene townhouse. He learns fighting techniques through instructional videos. An upside-down Aquino managed to get out of this pickle. Aquino doesn't have the time or money to invest in the structured training that the best young fighters arm themselves with. He works full time and has joint custody of his three children — one of whom was very wrong in his prediction of his father's first cage fight.   At the Emerald City Cage Fights II, held at the Lane County Fairgrounds in January, Aquino was matched against Omar Penland, a fighter from Medford who held a 1-1 MMA record. Regarding his pre-fight strategy, Aquino said, "Make sure I don't go to the ground, man. I don't want to get to that ground." Aquino looked relaxed entering the ring. He jumped around, loosening his 5-foot-1, 140-pound shirtless frame. In the stands, his son and two clients, who he cares for at Alvord-Taylor, Inc. in Springfield, watched him fight for the first time. Penland attacked quickly, shooting in on Aquino three times and eventually putting him right where he didn't want to be — on his back. Aquino fought him off by kicking upward from his back to prevent Penland from coming down on him with strikes. The referee stood them back up when Penland hesitated too long due to Aquino's upkicks. "I was waiting for him to shoot again [so I could] throw a knee but he went too quick on the shot, picked me up and slammed me right on my back," Aquino said. "I was going, 'Uh oh, I'm in trouble.'" But Aquino landed enough upkicks to hold off Penland's attack. The referee once again stood them up and Aquino waited for Penland to take another shot at his legs. That shot came immediately, but Penland didn't get close enough to Aquino's body to wrap him up. Aquino grabbed Penland in a guillotine — an armlock around the neck from above. Aquino used his own weight to push Penland's head down over his locked arms, cutting off the circulation to Penland's brain. Penland tapped out almost immediately. Aquino ran to the side of the cage, climbed to the top and pumped his fist in triumph. Aquino, who hails from the Philippines, is one of Betsy Guinn's 12 adopted children. Guinn has adopted orphans from nearly every part of the world — Cambodia, El Salvadore, Vietnam and Korea, to name a few. Aquino and his biological brother, Ray, were left at an orphanage by their mother when she couldn't afford to take care of them. Renato was 4, Ray was 9. Guinn worked at a pediatric nursing clinic, where her job was to match potential parents with foster children. She had always wanted to adopt children of her own and soon decided that waiting to meet a husband was a waste of valuable parenting time. "I had wanted to adopt for as long as I could remember," she said. "I hadn't met a husband yet, but I thought, 'Go ahead and adopt, and if I met my husband then it would be the right one because he would love my kids, too. And if I didn't find him then I didn't find him.'" Guinn adopted two boys from El Salvadore, Mando and Nesto, before coming across Aquino's paperwork. She visited the malnourished child in the Philippines and eventually decided to adopt him as well. But before Renato would accept the invitation to join her American family, he demanded that his older brother, Ray, be adopted as well — or he wouldn't go. "I wasn't going to go without my brother," he said. Guinn added them both to the family, which eventually reached 13 members — a single mother and 12 adopted children. Guinn says that while she would never have chosen fighting as a hobby for her son, she respects his choice. She also says it's natural for him to have found a career caring for others. Aquino's expertise in caring for those in need stems from his relationship with his younger brother Eddie, who suffers from cerebral palsy. "He was always very close to that brother when they were younger," Guinn says. "[Caretaking] wasn't a big leap for him. It was something that he grew up with." At Alvord-Taylor Inc., Aquino helps care for developmentally disabled people by cooking, giving showers and taking them to doctors' appointments and on excursions into the community. His supervisor, Molly Thompson, says he's an exemplary caretaker. "He's probably my best one," she said. "His personality, the way he handles people — he's just an overall good guy." "It's more mentally rewarding because they have less than us," Aquino says. "I figure it's the same thing: They can't help it. My brother can't help it. They were born with this life so I do what I can to help out. It really does feel good to help somebody out who can't help themselves." During the holidays last year, Aquino picked up shifts so others could spend Christmas and New Year's Eve with their families. He worked 16-hour shifts both days to ensure that someone was at the home, not just because an employee must always be there, but because the clients wanted to celebrate, too. Aquino's children were with their mother, so he picked up the hours. "People were quitting and there were shifts that needed to be filled," he said. "Nobody wanted to pick up the shifts, so I wanted to help out." The foundations of nearly every form of martial arts training are self-control and discipline. Martial arts is a physical and mental challenge with oneself that builds confidence, according to Eugene Thai Boxing Head Instructor Mike Walrath. "The guys who really work hard don't have the screwed-up ego and stuff," says Walrath, who trained Aquino for 10 years. "They don't have to prove themselves. They do it in the ring. When you see someone's development, it overflows into every other aspect of their life. It creates a really awesome citizen." Aquino agrees. "The people who are teaching it are absolutely teaching the old ways," Aquino says. "It's like,'Don't fight unless you absolutely need to.' Kids that I know who do this stuff are really level-headed. They don't go out starting fights." Walrath, having known Aquino since he first started martial arts training, says that it's no surprise that Aquino works as a caretaker and that it's common for martial artists to have peaceful professions and hobbies. "It goes hand in hand," he said. "Most good fighters are really caring people. They can empathize with pain or adversity. A lot of times you'll find some of the best fighters are physical therapists, caretakers, artists, gardeners, things like that." Walrath also says when cage fighting pits non-athletic, untrained fighters against one another it's hardly a form of martial arts. "I think it's the only sport an obese man can do," he said. "My opinion is half them guys are bums. The guys that have training sometimes draw a guy that can fight and sometimes they draw a bum." Jason Georgianna, promoter for the Pacific Coast Cage Fights in which Aquino will participate in Eugene April 8, is trying to change the perception of amateur cage fighting as a vicious sideshow. Georgianna, who was formerly a partner in Brass Knuckles Promotions, which organized the January event, said that his new endeavor is to organize fight cards that match better qualified fighters so the event is less of a spectacle and more of a skill demonstration. "I want it to be an athletic event where almost exclusively skilled amateur competitors come," he said. "I'd rather have fewer fights and have those fights be at a higher skill level." This philosophy, in turn, will separate his productions from others that stage inexperienced fighters who quickly tire and produce more of a barroom brawl scene than a disciplined fight. He doesn't want to produce the circus act that Walrath so deeply dislikes. "My vision is to keep increasing the quality level and skill level," Georgianna said. "Even though this is an amateur competition, I want the public to understand that mixed martial arts is an extremely technical and demanding sport." For Aquino, martial arts has never been and never will be an expression of hatred or violence. He's a young man who was forced to grow up fast. But Aquino never shied from the ever imposing challenge of self-sacrifice. And today, while meeting the needs of his own children, his girlfriend and her two young kids, the clients he cares for and his growing number of nieces and nephews, Aquino puts his own desires last. If it means working out without weights, sparring with a punching bag and learning technique from fights on TV, then so be it. "Life sure does change," he said. "All I can do is keep on going and take what it gives me. I'll tell you what, I like fighting in the ring better than I do fighting life because I can see who's coming at me in the ring. In life, you get hit, knocked down and you go, 'What the hell just hit me? Ah man, OK, I gotta get back up.'"     SATURDAY NIGHT'S FIGHTS What: Pacific Coast Cage Fights — 12 mixed martial arts bouts scheduled, including welterweight title bout. When: 7 pm, Saturday, April 8. Where: Sheldon High School. Price: $30-$65, $20 for bleachers. Tickets are available at Safeway, the Hult Center box office, UO EMU, ticketswest.com or (800) 992-8499.
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