Free The Laws of the Ring by Tim Keown, Urijah Faber Page B

“okay.” Dustin is a good salesman.
    So, back to Donald. We were getting to be old friends now.
    He got right to the point. “I’ll let you off with a warning if you give up your friend.”
    I told him I was with Darren. He looked at me skeptically.
    â€œAre you sure, Urijah?”
    â€œYes, I’m sure.”
    â€œYou’re sure you weren’t with Dustin Soderman?”
    Uh-oh.
    I persisted for a few more sentences and then it was apparent I had to give in. “Why am I being punished for lying to you instead of giving up my friend?” I screamed out. “Do you understand the position I’m in here?” I launched into a passionate speech about friendship and loyalty and the unfairness of being singled out.
    I was pretty pleased with my self-righteous explanation. Donald Moore wasn’t. He couldn’t stand my let-it-all-slide mentality. He was adamant that I be kicked out of school; according to the picture he painted, I had no other choice, and he proceeded to give me options for other schools I could attend once I was dismissed. I couldn’t accept his punishment, however, and wasn’t ready to lay down for his opinion on my future.
    I researched the university’s bylaws and discovered that a student has to agree to be dismissed. I had the ability to fight the decision and force the authorities to make their case. I decided to fight. Despite my occasionally juvenile behavior, I loved UC Davis, and I wasn’t willing to give it up easily.
    I spent the summer writing letters to anybody who would listen and requesting meetings with administrators. I acknowledged my mistakes and asked for their forgiveness. I selectively focused on the most recent event, which I wholeheartedly felt was unjust. I was protecting a friend. Someone had to see the nobility in that. But as I rewound the events through my mind, I could see that the Judicial Affairs board clearly felt I was making fools of them one time too many.
    Over the course of four or five meetings, the board attempted to get me to agree to their terms. Each time I refused. I brought a folder to each meeting and took notes. I appealed to their sense of fairness and tried to show that my persistence and willingness to take this matter to the highest level was reason enough to keep me in school. That my efforts should demonstrate my ongoing loyalty to the university and my desire to do better.
    Finally, they relented. They allowed me to remain in school under the most restrictive double- and triple-secret probation they could find. I walked on eggshells for the remaining four years of my college career, knowing one misstep would lead to expulsion. I changed my behavior and came away understanding the importance of honesty and owning my actions. In the process, I became a valued member of the UC Davis community and even worked for the university after I graduated. Getting disciplined during this time in my life was so valuable. The trial and error of living in a new environment with new people and new rules helped me realize how important success was in my life. After fighting for the right and opportunity to study at the university and to bust my butt in the UC Davis wrestling room every day, I knew that life is a privilege and to make the most of it. I often think back to that summer of meetings and letters and consider how much different my life would be if I had simply accepted the board’s decision and left school.
    The university put me to the test and asked, “How bad do you want it?” The first step was accepting the reality of my situation. If I had remained in denial and continued to make excuses for my behavior, I would surely have been kicked out. To this point I was just another kid who thought his own rules translated to the rules of the world. It wasn’t until the university made a serious motion to expel me that I grasped how my actions—no matter how small—in aggregate, were