On Sunday, September 6th, one of our fighters, Zen Azeemi, fought at Jitmuangnon Stadium, also known as Or Tor Kor Stadium, up in Nonthaburi.
Zen has been fighting with Tiger Eye since almost the very beginning. Many people who have trained with us will already know him. He is the brother of Haseen, one of our staff members who has also been here since day one.
They come from a family of nine brothers and sisters—six brothers and three sisters—and all six brothers have become involved in Muay Thai in one way or another. It’s an interesting story, particularly because they came into the sport relatively recently.
But this story is about Zen’s fight—and about a stadium that reminded me why I fell in love with Muay Thai in the first place.
It Takes a Lot to Impress Me at a Fight
I’ve been to thousands of fights.
I’ve fought in stadiums with 15,000 people. I’ve had blood splattered on me ringside. I’ve been ringside for some of the biggest fights in the world. I’ve helped organize events with more than 20,000 people and days where we essentially ran two shows back-to-back for 12 hours.
So for a fight environment to really impress me at this point, there has to be something unique about it.
Jitmuangnon absolutely did that.
Walking Into Jitmuangnon
The stadium is in Nonthaburi, north of Bangkok, in the Or Tor Kor market area.
You won’t see some enormous arena rising beside the highway. You have to walk through what feels like an old market, much of which was shut down when I was there. It almost looked abandoned.
Keep walking and, hidden in the back, you basically find a big shed with a boxing ring inside.
And some of the best Muay Thai prospects in Bangkok are fighting there.
Interestingly, the fights are broadcast live and there is an LED screen. If you watch the broadcast, the production actually looks pretty good. You would probably never guess what the place looks and feels like in person.
Standing inside is completely different. It feels small, raw and grassroots.
But don’t confuse grassroots with low level.
The quality of the fights blew me away.
And I wasn’t even there for the main show.
Zen fought in a smaller series of bouts after the principal card. This is something you see in Thailand, giving younger or less established fighters an opportunity to compete and get exposure.
You might expect the level to drop considerably.
It didn’t.
Some of these young fighters were performing at a level I’ve seen on much bigger stadium cards. There was no fluff in the matchmaking. Everybody could fight.
These were also traditional five-round Muay Thai fights, at a time when many modern promotions have moved toward three-round formats.
It Reminded Me of Thailand in 2006
I first came to Thailand in 2006, simply to travel and train Muay Thai.
Back then, going to fights here had a certain magic. I remember sitting in stadiums feeling like I had somehow walked into the movie Kickboxer.
The smell of namman muay. The music. The gamblers. Fighters warming up. Corners yelling. That strange mixture of violence, ceremony, business and community happening around a ring.
Even thinking about it now gives me goosebumps.
Muay Thai has obviously grown enormously since then. Years later, I found myself at the opposite end of the spectrum, sitting ringside working for ONE Championship and being involved with some of the biggest combat sporting events in the world. My relationship with ONE went much further than that—I experienced the organization from almost every possible angle, as an athlete, coach, organizer and eventually an executive. Read about my 360-degree journey through ONE Championship here.
Those big shows are incredible in their own way. The production is bigger. The purses are bigger. The audience is bigger.
But sometimes, if I’m being truthful, I get bored.
I wasn’t bored for one second at Jitmuangnon.
They Were Muay Thai
What struck me most was the crowd.
Everybody knew who they were watching. Everybody was paying attention.
They weren’t tourists coming to get a taste of Thailand’s national sport. They weren’t there looking for a “Muay Thai experience.”
They were Muay Thai.
These were fighters, trainers, promoters, gamblers and people who have spent much of their lives around the sport.
For the young fighters, you could feel that this was a chance to get noticed by people who could actually influence their careers—the promoters, matchmakers, bookies and serious gamblers who make up the inner workings of Bangkok Muay Thai.
At one point, I watched what appeared to be 200,000 baht in cash being passed through the rows until it reached whoever it was intended for.
Nobody seemed particularly surprised.
Muay Thai Without a Filter
Another scene stopped me in my tracks.
A young fighter was lying on a stretcher getting his head stitched up. The doctor had a headlamp on and clearly knew exactly what he was doing, calmly stitching him while other fighters warmed up around them.
There was no elaborate backstage medical area. It was happening right there.
Nearby was a man dressed in one of those eclectic ceremonial-looking outfits you sometimes see around Thai fights, there supporting the fighters.
Everything just continued around them.
Fighters warming up.
People gambling.
Corners preparing.
Another fight getting ready to start.
It was Muay Thai completely without a filter.
Then It Was Zen’s Turn
Zen wasn’t the favorite.
But he fought extremely well and knocked his opponent out.
Afterward, the promoter wanted to know where Zen had learned his boxing because she was impressed by his hands.
For me, that meant a lot. Zen has been developing with us for years, and seeing somebody from inside this world notice his boxing was a great moment for him and for Tiger Eye.
And because Zen was the underdog, whoever put their money on him probably had a pretty good afternoon as well.
I Already Want to Go Back
Days later, I’m still thinking about Jitmuangnon.
If you genuinely love Muay Thai, especially if you’ve already experienced the major Bangkok stadiums, I strongly recommend finding your way up to Nonthaburi.
If you want spectacle and international production, there are plenty of places offering that now.
But if you want to sit in a hot little stadium hidden behind an old market and watch extremely talented fighters compete while trainers, gamblers and promoters shout around you, Jitmuangnon is something different.
Twenty years after I first arrived in Thailand looking for Muay Thai, it was nice to find a place that could still give me goosebumps.
If you’d like to read about my time on the other side of the sport—from competing in the cage to working behind the scenes as an executive—here’s my 360-degree view of ONE Championship.