Fighting Talk
Former professional Thai kickboxer Jayson Vemoa discusses his journey through the “swamp” to the top of his sport.
At the back of Jayson Vemoa’s private gym, past the Simonelli espresso machine, Everlast speed punching bag and Boon boxing gloves, is a curtained-off area.
A barefooted Vemoa pulls back the black curtain, sets aside a laundry basket and opens a flat chest beneath. He lifts out two ornate world championship belts he won two decades ago as a muay Thai fighter.
“I’m just an old man with a relic,” says the Club Member, 45.
Muay Thai, or Thai boxing, is popular among competitive fighters because the “more dynamic, more complete” martial art builds stamina, says Club muay Thai instructor Robert Daoust.
Vemoa took up Thailand’s official sport as a teenager growing up in Auckland, New Zealand. The son of hardworking Polynesian immigrants, he dreamed of playing rugby for the legendary All Blacks, but at 1.8 meters, he was short for the sport.
A friend took him to a muay Thai tournament at an underground night club, and he discovered a sport where he could beat up people his own size. He turned professional in just his third fight, in 1990, and defeated the New Zealand champion.
“You beat the champ, then every fight after that becomes the title fight,” he says.
To understand Thai culture, Vemoa worked out twice a day at a gym under a Bangkok bridge, alongside local kids training with pillows.
His highly anticipated 1992 bout with three-time world champ Nokweed Davy ended in a draw. Shortly after, Davy was jailed for killing a taxi driver with a kick to the head. Vemoa, meanwhile, won his first world championship in 1996.
“I just stayed calm and composed,” says Vemoa of the win. “You just walk through the swamp.”
After an early release from jail, Davy challenged Vemoa to a rematch in 1998. To prepare, Vemoa trained in a hyperbaric oxygen chamber and voraciously read Mohammed Ali biographies.
“When I first hopped in the ring, I knew what I was in for: just imagine somebody smashing your legs for 20 to 25 minutes,” says Vemoa.
After five rounds of tactical sparring, and the occasional taboo elbow shot, Vemoa won by a judges’ decision.
Then, at age 27, after a brutal eight-man tournament that left rows of black bruises around his shins, Vemoa secured his second world championship belt.
“That’s it, I’ve got [the belt],” he says. “Out of there.”
Fellow Kiwi Ray Sefo brought Vemoa to Japan in 2002 to help him train for local K-1 tournaments. In his final bout the following year, a devastating kick caved in Vemoa’s right cheek.
“It was a reality check,” he says. “The hospital bills were becoming much higher than my pay.”
Vemoa stayed in Japan to train K-1 fighters, as well as the late All Black legend Jonah Lomu. When time allows, Vemoa, who holds a third-degree black belt in Kyokushin karate, supports New Zealand UFC fighter Mark Hunt.
“I learned in Japan you have to have the white belt mentality to learn,” says Vemoa, “but you have to have the black belt mentality to never give up.”
Words: Nick Narigon
Image: Cédric Diradourian
