‘John’ Wayne Parr: The Fighter
‘It was the first time I had fought under Thai rules and it’s something that has always stayed with me. [The ring] becomes sacred under that set of traditions, as well as because of what happens inside of it. It’s a mystical space, that square of canvas, and a part of Thailand, no matter where in the world it is stretched out.’
I worked in fight journalism for ten years, beginning with an interview I gave all the way back in 2012. Of all the fighters I wrote about across that decade, the one who stood out from all the others was ‘John’ Wayne Parr.
Certainly, Wayne has an exceptional resume, but he is also an exceptional storyteller. He is unique among everyone I have interviewed in that he is conscious that you’re listening to him, and he knows how to construct himself accordingly.
Wayne also knows how to tell a story; he structures setups and payoffs, all lit with a self-deprecating sense of humour. He utilizes the Australian idiom as characteristic and colourful, and often makes himself the butt of the joke.
I’d describe him as self-deprecating, funny and charming. I expect Joe Rogan would say something similar. He has hosted Wayne on his podcast three times:
Fight Companion February 22, 2015:
https://open.spotify.com/episode/2rnhjQza82eHYmvxZ6ul7k
Episode 616: https://open.spotify.com/episode/6ACYDCr3JXycpEp1WvhGp0
Episode 714: https://open.spotify.com/episode/2SXvl9JcxUueuvTQcSPtYE
Joe often refers to him and his observations about the fight game during conversations with his other guests.
I wrote a number of articles about Wayne over the years, but one in particular focused on his experiences in Thailand. He told a fabulous, exotic tale suffused with romance and mysticism, which is so much at the heart of why I fell in love with Thai Boxing. He was also immensely funny.
By my reckoning, Wayne’s story has qualities that extend far beyond those of every sports biography I’ve read. Most athletes enter an organisation like the AFL when they are young and callow and the structure of that organisation holds them in place, right down to where they live and who cooks for them.
On the other hand, Wayne decided he wanted to be a world champion, so he moved to Thailand – a third world country – without knowing anyone, or having any real knowledge of culture or custom, let alone being able to speak the language.
All of these ingredients screamed blockbuster, so I asked if he’d ever considered writing his autobiography. He kind of waved it away, and I told him that I’d be happy to help if he changed his mind.
When Wayne got in touch maybe a year later, I was travelling through eastern Turkey. I had just visited the ancient ruins of Troy, and was re-reading The Odyssey as I went. He said, ‘I’ve been trying to do this for ten years and I feel like I’m getting nowhere.’ I invited him to send me what he had – which at that time amounted to 80,000 words – and started reading.
It occurred to me when I arrived at Mycenae in Greece to drag myself out to visit the Lion’s Gate that Wayne was very like Odysseus. The name, as it has entered the lexicon, has come to define ‘A long, arduous journey, marked by significant vicissitudes of fate.’
I remember a friend of mine once telling me that if you wanted to hold political office in Ancient Greece, you had to know – and be able to quote from – both The Iliad and The Odyssey. These were the fundamental epics at the heart of Greek life. While The Iliad is about war and the formation of the Greek state, The Odyssey is about what constitutes a hero.
Odysseus is the man of twists and turns. He remains abreast of these because he’s smart, durable and courageous. But the thing that jumped out at me in Mycenae is that Odysseus was also a traveller, an adventurer, who visits all these different places and while he slays some monsters and braves some dangers, he spends a lot of time learning people’s languages and developing relationships by telling them stories. People become his friends and help him because they like him.
Wayne’s book is not a small book. It’s an odyssey in that sense, but it also transpires across different countries, within the networks of different cultures. And sure, Wayne’s business – like Odysseus’ – is fighting, but he learns the customs and the languages as best he can, and forges friendships along the way.
The biggest difference between Odysseus and Wayne is that while Odysseus is trying to make his way home to his wife Penelope in Ithaca, Wayne actually met his wife Angie in the US and bought her back to Australia, in order that they could start a family here in Queensland.
The tale of the modern fighter is essentially the story of a dysfunctional person from an unhappy background who has one spectacular talent that is almost completely useless and does little but get them in trouble, until the day it makes them rich and famous.
Then, their demons pursue them through the corridors of that success until they emerge on the other side, bankrupt and broken. Wayne is the diametric opposite. His autobiography really is a hero’s journey in the sense of Joseph Campbell’s Hero of a Thousand Faces.
We live in a world bereft of role-models for young people, young men particularly. And while fighting is immensely popular and exerts an intense fascination, it is bereft of heroes. American fighters are often repellent; aggressive, naked self-aggrandisement is an essential feature of the marketing. Wayne is legitimately described as a gentleman, and is supported by a strong woman who has been a champion fighter herself.
In the course of the story, Muay Thai becomes a platform for his character, and the ‘virtues’ we look for in a hero – courage, grit, intelligence, humour and benevolence – are what define him. And his relationships always remain central to the story.
The Fighter: The Legendary Life of an Australian Champion can be pre-ordered at Hachette Australia and will be available in stores on November 27.