Malik Thompson does not break schedule.
The north Tulsa native, now living in Locust Grove, is out of bed by 6 a.m. six days of the week. He eats breakfast, kisses his fiancé and their 11-month-old son goodbye and heads to work as a commercial truck driver.
As he drives, the truck’s cabin takes on the tone of a sanctuary.
It’s quiet.
There’s no music or podcasts.
Just the road, silence and time to clear his head.
But by noon, a flip switches and Thompson’s life becomes cacophonous. He trades the road for a gym where he practices jiu-jitsu for about two hours. It’s his first workout of the day, and preparation for what he describes as “war.”
“Some people, they get off work, they crack a beer, or they smoke something, or go watch a movie,” Thompson said. But for him, it’s different. “I train. (I) come in here, get beat up by people (and) beat people up.”
That’s been his life for around six years. Now, he’s just months away from his first professional bout. It was originally scheduled for Dec. 12 at River Spirit Casino Resort, but Thompson says organizers couldn’t find an opponent for him, pushing the fight back to sometime next spring.
Building habits
To get this far, he’s stuck to a strict routine. After his first workout and a rest period, he’s back in the gym practicing his boxing skills from 4 to 5:30 p.m.
From 6 to 9 p.m., he’s putting all his skills to use at Strike Martial Arts Academy, a mixed martial arts school in Jenks. For Thompson, the ring is a combination of solace, family and battlefield.
Thompson wasn’t much of a fighter growing up — his heart belonged to the football field. At Booker T. Washington High School, where Thompson graduated in 2017, he primarily played running back and safety, but also spent time at cornerback and wide receiver.
Six years ago, he walked into Strike looking for an opportunity to make a career out of MMA. There, he met Logan Cunningham, a former fighter and one of Thompson’s closest friends.
“Not only is he an incredible athlete, he’s also incredibly coachable,” Cunningham said of Thompson. “And that’s what it takes to be good in this sport in particular. You can be a great athlete, and you might make it far, but that champion mindset is that coachability.”
Thompson’s versatility on the field has translated to his fighting career, helping him learn different styles like boxing, wrestling, muay thai and jiu-jitsu.
“I didn’t have any martial arts experience prior (to 2020) so I just jumped into the water,” he said. “What was good about being a blank canvas is I could just soak in everything. I didn’t have any bad habits from previous martial arts… I was just open to learning.”
It’s working so far. Standing at 5-foot-9 and fighting at 145 pounds, the 26-year-old Thompson currently holds a 7-4 record in amateur MMA fights. His latest fight dubbed him the Xtreme Fight League Amateur Lightweight MMA Champion.
In Oklahoma, the only difference between amateur and professional fighting is getting paid, said Cunningham. Up to this point, Thompson has relied on finding sponsors to help him break even.
“I’ve made at most $1,000 in sponsorships from past fights,” he said. “At this point in my career, sponsorships have been mainly to make things free, not necessarily (to) pay out to me.”
He lost his first two bouts in 2020, but he’s currently on a three-match win streak.
Finding faith
Growing up, Thompson split time between his father’s home in north Tulsa and his mother’s home in Gilcrease Hills. Having to go back and forth, Thompson said, exposed him to different parts of Tulsa and has helped shape who he is today.
He recognized the importance of family, and his connection to his Christian faith, in 2019 when his father was hospitalized after being shot twice in the stomach.
“I just saw him just sitting there (at the hospital) and I just started calling on Jesus,” Thompson said. “Literally just saying ‘Jesus’ over and over, not even really like praying a prayer, just saying ‘Jesus.’”
That night, in the hospital, Thompson fell asleep in tears. He woke up in the middle of the night, knowing he had obligations that morning. He left the hospital with his faith unshaken.
“I get a call later that day from them saying, ‘He’s doing so much better. His vitals are looking good. He’s looking healthy,” Thompson recalled. “And I was like, ‘Man, that’s beautiful.’”
During that time, he was reading “The Autobiography of Malcolm X” and found the late activist’s commitment to Islam inspiring. That book, coupled with his father’s survival, bolstered his faith, which became a pivotal part of his athletic journey.
“It always felt like I was divinely protected,” he said. “I ignored (God) for a long time, and then slowly but surely he just gave me these moments of, ‘I’m still here, I’m still here.’”
Now, Thompson attends World Won for Christ Church in north Tulsa every Sunday. It’s a part of the routine that propels him forward.
Along with God, Thompson credits his mother, grandmother and fiancee Syd Butcher for where he’s at today.
Butcher said watching him fight makes her a bit anxious, but more thankful than anything.
“The main thing I feel is gratefulness, because he does this for us,” she said. “That way I can be a stay-at-home mom.”
Surviving the Shark Tank
A few days before Halloween, Thompson is running through a gauntlet inside Strike. On one side of the gym, kids are taking boxing lessons as dozens of people shout, sweat and spar.
Thompson’s drill though may be the toughest of all. Overseen by Cunningham, three fighters take turns sparring with Thompson.
While Thompson fends off one, the other two rest. Everyone gets a break —- except for Thompson. In between bouts he keeps practicing strikes and kicks until the next challenger is ready.
They call it the “Shark Tank” or “Bull in the Ring.” Similar drills exist, but Cunningham designed this one specifically to push his fighters to their breaking point.
“A lot of my drills aren’t designed for you to win. They’re designed to make you better,” he said.
The Shark Tank is invitation-only, as fighters must prove themselves before participating. Almost everyone who tries quits during their first time, Cunningham said. The constant swings, dodging and different styles of opponents is sometimes too difficult for a new fighter.
And if you think it’s just a matter of surviving a countdown, good luck: There is no clock.
“It’s over when I say it’s over,” Cunningham said.
About 20 minutes into the drill, Thompson catches Rowan Knight with a body shot, knocking him to the ground. It takes Knight a minute to collect himself.
Knight, who has been with the team for about 10 months, said fighting Thompson was exhausting.
“If you’re not throwing something, he’s throwing it back at you,” he said. “It’s like he takes everything you’re throwing at him, and he multiplies it by two and sends it right back the second you stop.”
Another fighter in the drill, Chris Galvan, described his matches with Thompson as two rams butting heads. It’s animalistic in nature, but strategic in practice.
“Who’s going to get the better hand of the scramble? Who’s gonna be able to come out on top? Or who’s gonna get the sweep? It’s a really good game of chess in that aspect,” Galvan said.
When asked what holes were left in Thompson’s technique, Cunningham struggled to find an answer. His striking is good, he says, along with his jiu-jitsu skills. The only thing he’s waiting to see is how Thompson fairs in a professional fight.
But he hasn’t been able to find an opponent. Thompson has had the opportunity to officially go pro twice, but both fights were canceled. The first was scheduled in October, and the second was scheduled for December. Now he’s anticipating a bout in the spring.
“I can say, none of the other amateurs want to fight him,” Cunningham said.
Thompson’s performance in the “Shark Tank” might have something to do with it. He could go for an hour and a half and still remain standing, Cunningham said.
“He absolutely will not quit,” Cunningham said.
Feeling his ‘woosah’
Thompson said his mentality shifts when he steps into Strike. Nothing that happened outside the academy matters. He can just exist.
He calls the feeling his “woosah.” The term, used to describe taking a breath to relieve stress, was popularized by Martin Lawrence’s character in “Bad Boys II.”
“It’s like my peace. I can find peace in what I’m doing. And that’s why I feel like it comes from Christ, because… there’s a certain peace I find in it,” Thompson said. “It’s a very chaotic thing. It’s war. It’s barbaric, but it gives me peace. And that’s weird to me sometimes, but … I like it.”
For Thompson, everything comes back to his faith and discipline. He cited Ephesians 2:8-9, as a reminder to credit all his gifts to God and stay grounded by his grace.
Still in the Shark Tank, Cunningham finally cuts the drill after 30 minutes. To end the night, he signals Thompson to grab the attention of the gym.
“Not only do I want warriors and martial artists, I’m making leaders,” Cunningham said. “That’s what I feel is very important.”
Kids, teens and adults alike turn to Thompson. Drenched in sweat but still filled with energy, he shouts: “Team Strike!” to which the entire academy yells it back.
“Strike Martial Arts Academy just molded me into who I am today,” Thompson said. “It’s really a community. (It’s) really a family of people that pull each other up.”
Ismael Lele is a Report for America corps member and writes about business in Tulsa for The Oklahoma Eagle. Your donation to match our Report for America grant helps keep him writing stories like this one; please consider making a tax-deductible gift of any amount today by visiting this link.
