The key feature in armored combat is the armor itself — because the hits are real. In Nashville, another key part is the hug that armored fighters share before and after they battle one another.
Armored combat is more jiu-jitsu or mixed martial arts than live-action role play, and requires historically accurate armor from the late-14th to early-17th century. In three rounds lasting two minutes apiece, fighters go at each other one on one, or sometimes in groups. Typically fights are limited to weapon strikes, but in a “pro fight,” punches and kicks are allowed. There’s an elaborate rule system and a judge in the ring to decide the winner, except when someone bows out due to pain.
When Mickey Guida got interested in the sport in fall 2020, there wasn’t much of a community in Nashville. So he traveled to get training from more experienced fighters and brought his knowledge back to Nashville to train fighters in his literal backyard — for free.
Guida says the sport carried him through a time when he was struggling with his mental health. Armored combat, he says, tends to involve a bit of inner-child work for participants — he always dreamed of being a knight. Within a few months of that backyard training, he took a small team to a competition in Ohio and ended up winning gold.
“That’s why I started teaching classes a year ago for free and have been trying to get as many people on board,” Guida says. “Everybody’s got their issues, right? This is definitely a good sport, a good community, to help you work through those [issues] to make you feel a little less alone.”
On Jan. 15, Nashville Armored Combat celebrated the grand opening of an indoor facility for training. Ten area fighters put up seed money, including co-owner and co-manager Guida. There are already five men’s teams, and one of the priorities of the investor group was to get armor to support a women’s team. The Alicorns, founded in November, became the first women’s armored combat team in the state.
Mickey Guida
Megan Themm, a roller derby and hurling veteran, was the first woman to join Guida’s backyard training sessions. She soon convinced Kelsey Leta, who’d never participated in any contact sports, to join in. The pair now serve as co-captains of The Alicorns, and invite femme-presenting fighters to join in practices at the new facility on Tuesdays.
“Just like with anything else, people are going to show up once and realize it’s not for them,” Themm says.
“Which is fine because it’s weird as fuck and a lot of work,” Leta adds, laughing.
Before fighters ever enter the ring, they must first strengthen their neck muscles and shoulders just to be able to hold up a heavy sword and shield and balance a helmet on their head. Then training includes swinging axes at tires, striking one another with foam swords, and practicing picking up and throwing an opponent to the ground. Part of being the only women’s team in the state is inevitably fighting your own teammates — that means there are both words of encouragement (“You’re pretty!”) and playful egging on (“Come on, I was such a bitch to you last practice, I threw you so many times!”).
For the co-captains, getting into the confrontational sport has actually had its healing properties. In the ring and in practice, they’re allowed — and in fact encouraged — to be loud, to be violent and to take up space. Nashville Armored Combat is a place for consensual violence, but hitting and being hit also have the potential to bring up old triggers.
“So far, everyone has felt safe and comfortable enough to express, ‘This is what’s triggering me and why, and this is what I need,’ ” Leta says. “And we’re able to encourage each other. It’s very, very healing. I probably wouldn’t be as OK as I am today without this.”
As a single mother, Themm also appreciates the fact that training gives her tools to protect her son should the need arise.
“You don’t have control of what the other person is doing,” she says. “And even sometimes, it’s a pure reaction in what you’re doing. So that loss of control. I mean, I know I have control issues. I don’t like to be in the passenger seat. It’s very, very different and freeing in a way. So for me, that’s what it is. That’s why it’s so emotional.”
Starting in February, the facility will host fight nights on Wednesdays and broadcast the fights to local bars. Compared to Europe, the United States has some catching up to do as far as interest in the sport — especially from spectators, Guida says. It’s a sport that requires costly equipment and gaining physical strength, but Nashville Armored Combat — which rents out equipment from its armory — makes it doable for more people.
“When I teach my students, I tell them the reason why we work hard and train so hard isn’t to win,” says Guida. “It’s to honor the sacrifices that our opponent makes. Because it takes a lot to just do the sport. It takes a lot of training and money and time to be able to do this at all. We should give them a good show. So we come out as friends. We usually leave as friends.”
