Teachers As Fighters

Have you ever noticed that in baseball the team manager wears a baseball uniform? Now, he never partakes in the game; not to pinch hit or relieve the losing pitcher towards the end of the game. Aside from his senior appearance or the fact that he's maybe put on a few pounds over the years, the baseball manager is decked out like an actual playing member of the club. How interesting. In his heyday, the manager was a player with a major league team who typically had a decent record as a pro. After retiring as a player, he became a manager. It's a well paying job of course, but now it behooves him to give back to a sport that has been very generous to him. A good baseball manager possesses leadership, technical savvy, and when appropriate, wisdom, in order to guide his players to become a winning team.

In boxing, the coach is typically a trainer who has had at least some boxing experience, but not necessarily as a decorated amateur, let alone a prizefighter. Cus D'Amato, one of the greatest professional boxing coaches of all time, was never himself a professional boxer. I won't mention names, but some former world champions who have tried their hand at coaching had less than stellar results with their protégés. Teaching is not the same thing as doing. Perhaps mediocrity goes a long way when the disciple becomes the master.

Ah, yes—the master! This is the word I'm ginning up. Teachers in different categories mean different things. But in the realm of martial arts, mastery is something unique. In sports, the coach is a retired player, a player that may or may not have been an elite exponent of baseball, boxing or whatever. 

 

The martial arts master, however, is not only held as a master instructor, but a master practitioner. Now this is conjecture, thanks to legends, rumors, kung-fu flicks, and starry-eyed students delivering sermons on how their karate teacher or whoever can level ten people at a clip. Manager Tommy LaSorda, though he could deal with unruly players, umpires, and the not-so-rare bench-clearing brawl, would be hard pressed to hit one out of the park. Could trainer Cus D'Amato knock out an opponent in the main event? Of course not, nor would anyone expect him to. But the sensei or sifu is held to a different standard.

The romantic definition of the martial arts master is their mastery of multiple domains. This can be fraught with problems: Your sensei is not your shrink or financial consultant or life coach or buddy. (And while we're on the subject, I've seen the title of sensei thrown around like it was an "Employee of the Month" award. Being a black belt—in any style— does not automatically confer one to being called sensei.)

Boxing coach/fighter relationships, however, are replete with stories similar to genuine mentorships. By their account, some boxers have regarded their trainers as father figures who guided them away from what likely would have been a life of crime, drugs, and gang activity culminating in prison. And these relationships are certainly reciprocal, I'm sure. In a touching scene from Rocky V (1990), a wizened and wise Mickey Goldmill offers this heartwarming guidance to his disciple:

 

You know kid, I know how you feel about this fight that's comin' up. 'Cause I was young once, too. And I'll tell you somethin'. Well, if you wasn't here I probably wouldn't be alive today. The fact that you're here and doin' as well as you're doin' gives me—what do you call it—motivization? Huh? To stay alive, 'cause I think that people die sometimes when they don't wanna live no more. 

And nature is smarter than people think. Little by little we lose our friends, we lose everything. We keep losin' and losin' till we say you know, 'Oh what the hell am I livin' around here for? I got not reason to go on.' But with you kid, boy, I got a reason to go on. And I'm gonna stay alive and I will watch you make good...

...and I'll never leave you until that happens. 'Cause when I leave you you'll not only know how to fight, you'll be able to take care of yourself outside the ring too, is that okay?

 

Taking your lessons "outside" is a central precept in traditional martial arts.  When we come to the dojo we leave our hangups and worldly problems at the door. But we take the good lessons we've gleaned during dedicated training with us when we leave for the day. In this manner, karate-do becomes karate as a "way of life."

Consider this exchange Bruce Lee's character has with a student in the beginning of Enter The Dragon (1973). One-on-one he tells his young student, Loa, to kick him. After he fails to properly commit, Lee admonishes him. 

"What was that? An exhibition? We need emotional content. Try again." Loa then overexerts with an even harder kick, swatting air.

"I said 'emotional content.' Not anger! Now try again...with me." Lao finally launches a couple of decent side kicks, much to the approval of Lee.

"That's it! How did it feel to you?" As Loa ponders the question, Lee smacks him in the head.

"Don't think. Feel. It is like a finger pointing away to the moon." When Lee observes Loa merely looking at his finger he smacks him again.

"Don't concentrate on the finger, or you will miss all that heavenly glory. Do you understand?" Loa responds affirmatively by bowing, but again errs by losing eye contact with his master, receiving the trifecta smack upside the head. Poor Lao. A spiritual and technical lesson wrapped up in one. Does it get any better than this? Indeed it does, and Lee's summation here is sage advice for any martial artist.

"Never take your eyes off your opponent...even when you bow."

Loa bows, gazing intently at his master. Another day. Another lesson.

Never Quit

I have a confession to make. I've been out of work for seven months (courtesy of some health issues I've previously discussed, but I go back at the end of September), and I'm not happy with the way I look. This morning on a doctor's scale I weighed a whopping 205 lbs., way up from my sparring heyday of 178. (I used to be 5 ft 10; I'm currently 5 ft 9. I have a medium frame.) A lot of this is just due to my inactivity, but also, to my defense, it's age related. I turn 63 in October, and my body just doesn't do what it used to do. Not just willful physical activity, whether it's performing job duties or exercising in my basement gym/dojo, but also trying to keep my weight down, recover from minor injuries, and incentive to do otherwise menial tasks. I find myself actually having to push myself to go on my daily one-mile walk. My strength and stamina in the gym over the years has diminished significantly, and when I confided this to a friend, he replied, "why bother pumping iron if you just keep getting weaker?"

"Alright," I replied. "What do you suppose would happen if I just completely stopped working out?"

Stopping my workouts is not an option for me. Perish the thought! But naturally I have to modify a routine to accommodate my pre-existing injuries. And as of late I need serious motivation—fortunately fate came to the rescue. The other day a co-worker texted me a bodybuilding routine Bruce Lee created in 1965, before he became a star cinematically (although by this time Lee was an in-demand martial arts instructor). This flow chart, I'm assuming, is a catalog of exercises to be performed in a single session. It's a list of mostly upper body/arm exercises, but I really like how the first item is squats. Never skip leg day. I'm glad Lee knew his priorities.

As Lee's status as a star rose he continued his self created bodybuilding routine that emphasized both strength and muscular endurance. At  5 ft 7 1⁄2 and 140 lbs, Lee was not not an overtly formidable presence. But his devotion to fitness paid off. Chuck Norris once said that Lee was, pound for pound, the strongest human being he has ever trained with.

While Lee was making gains in the gym, he began to adjust his diet and cardio exercises that accelerated his body's ability to burn fat. In the 1965 photo above, I would guess his body fat percentage to be about 12. The pic below taken from Enter The Dragon (1973) depicts a much leaner version of Lee, evident with a marked increase in muscular definition and striations. I'd put his body fat here at about 7 percent. Understand that this level of body fat is quite low, even for an athlete, and is very difficult to achieve without resorting to sports enhancing drugs. (There is no respectable evidence that Lee used steroids or the like to achieve his physique. I'm also fairly confident this photo has not been enhanced.)

In the 1960s, bodybuilding routines were considered taboo for some sports, especially boxing. There are traditional exercises in karate that emphasize grip strength and isometric tension, but little else that bear any semblance to a modern muscle building regimen. 

As a martial artist Lee was ahead of his time in a few ways (e.g., he loathed the concept of styles as he saw them as inherently dogmatic), and embraced modernity, innovation, and common sense. However, several years later, Lee was training with weights and endured a serious back injury that incapacitated him for some time. (A detailed account of this can be found in this article.) Lee was about 30 when this happened, and somehow plowed through this and continued with his movie career until his untimely death from an allergic reaction to a pain killer (for a headache) just a few years later. I sustained a similar, albeit less severe injury to my back performing barbell squats when I was 36. At the time, I was working for the same company I'm at now, didn't see a doctor, and didn't miss a single day of work. I was lucky, the problem eventually resolved itself. Youth has its advantages. An injury like that now would likely put me out on permanent disability. 

These days I still train when I'm up to it, but I don't do barbell squats or heavy lifting anymore. And definitely no sparring with someone I don't know. With age comes wisdom.

Magic

Lately, on martial arts threads I see online, it seems that traditional martial arts (TMA) have fallen out of favor. Apparently if you're not training for life-and-death or the Octagon, you're spinning your wheels. But in the idealistic past we've had TMA heroes gracing the big or little screen that seemed larger than life. Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris and the TV show Kung Fu inspired us. It was David Carradine's portrayal of Caine, the Shaolin monk turned cowboy that inspired me to bug my parents to enroll me in my first martial arts class. Carradine was not really a kung fu practitioner of note, but that didn't matter to me. Norris once quipped that Carradine was about as qualified a martial artist as he (Norris) was a gifted stage actor, but I digress. Both of them presented martial arts in a very positive way. I miss that. And in its place we have to witness internet squabbles over full-contact sports like Muay Thai and judo, versus aikido, wing chun, tae kwon do, karate, or any other TMA du jour that's on the radar of these basement-dwelling chat-room pseudo cage fighters when they should be out looking for a job. To be fair, not all critics fall into this category. But then, the qualified critics, those with real combat, security, or fighting experience, (usually) can't be bothered airing their grievances on reddit. 

In 1984, The Karate Kid movie became a surprise hit. And in its wake, martial arts schools flourished. Enrollment doubled and tripled overnight, especially with kids, but what made this movie unique was the feature of the tournament. So between charging for lessons, belts and tournaments, karate school owners raked in the bucks. It's my opinion that kata and point-matches for trophies and colored belts have been both good and detrimental to karate. By the early 90s MMA came to the US, courtesy of a Brazilian clan's rendition of jiu-jitsu. A corner was turned, and there was no going back. 

In the old days, TMA were held as magic. We believed, because we had Kato and Lone Wolf McQuade and Mr. Miyagi there to give us faith. They were the good guys. I believed, because I wanted to believe that the style of karate that I espoused gave me a chance to be something greater than I was. Maybe I was naïve. I was young, what did I know? 

Today, critcal thinking reigns, so when we see a video of a "master" knocking out his student via hypnotic gaze, we know better. But these cringey clips, along with qi strikes and 7-year-old black belts, these things by default get relegated to TMA. And that's a shame. Still in spite of it all, the karate that I know, somehow, still possesses something magical.

⁠

Are All Fighting Systems 'Martial Arts'?

When I was a kid, the term martial arts meant fighting forms designed for self-defense that had distinct Far Eastern roots. We all came to know that judo, karate and kung fu were martial arts. In time, non-Eastern forms would be included, such as Krav Maga, Sambo, and Capoeira. Recently, a thread on reddit asks if Mike Tyson was one of the top martial artists of the last century. It really begs the question: Is boxing a martial art? For some, this broadens the definition of martial arts too much.

Of course, some martial-art styles don't engage in contests. Iaido, a Japanese sword-drawing art that utilizes pre-arranged solo forms, is one. Others such as Aikido is strictly defensive in nature. Traditional Aikidoka do not engage in contests like in sport Jiu-jitsu or Judo. In Karate, point-style matches are scored where strikes — particularly punches and kicks to the head — do not make full contact. Adherents would be foolish to think that training exclusively this way would prepare you for the real thing. It would be like thinking that playing flag football could get you ready for the NFL.

Bruce Lee, Miyamoto Musashi, et al., have said that in the martial arts the way you train is how it happens in real life. Musashi was a 17th century duelist who faced over sixty men in his life. Lee, who died in 1973, had a combat resume that's a bit sketchy. Joe Lewis, one of the great full-contact fighters who briefly studied with Lee, said in an interview that while Lee was a great teacher with a wealth of knowledge, he was not a fighter. Lewis is using the term fighter in the same way you would call a boxer a fighter. Lewis himself was a fighter of course, as was Bill "Superfoot" Wallace and Benny Urquidez, other karatemen who later became full-contact kickboxers.

So should all fighting systems be regarded as "martial arts"? Martial arts have roots in militarism. Are members of US Navy SEALs and Special Forces martial artists? Indeed, the Marine Corps has created a martial arts program dubbed the Ethical Marine Warrior, which has a philosophical core of honor, courage, and respect. Certainly, these are virtues that are consistent in the Japanese budo, the traditional martial arts and ways.

Got Racism?

This is a flyer from the first professional kickboxing card held in the US. I first chanced upon this image from the book Al Weiss' the Official History of Karate in America. The organizer for this event, one Lee Faulkner, apparently took some well-deserved heat* for the inclusion of this little gem:

SPECIAL BOUT BETWEEN BLACK MILITANT
GREG BANIES & WORLD CHAMPION JOE LEWIS (WHITE) JOE LEWIS

Lewis did go on to defeat Baines (misspelled as Banies), but that's besides the point. One wonders if either man realized they were being used for race-baiting in an attempt to drum up ticket sales.

________________

When Bruce Lee began teaching martial arts in California in the early 60s there was outrage in the Chinese community because of Lee's open door policy of instructing non-Chinese students. A match was arranged between Lee and Wong Jack Man, another kung-fu sifu from the area, with the understanding that if Lee lost he would have to close his school down. A victory by Lee would ensure that he could teach Caucasians or anyone else he wanted to. Lee prevailed, the bout taking either 3 or 25 minutes, depending on who was asked. Within a few years, Lee would begin to instruct Hollywood's elite, charging up to $300 per hour.

Speaking of kung-fu, one of TV's most popular shows, Kung Fu, depicted the struggles of a Shaolin monk who finds himself dealing with everything from racism to barroom brawls in the American Old West. Ironically the lead role of Caine, the orphaned son of a Chinese mother and American father, was originally supposed to go to Bruce Lee (who reputedly contributed to the storyline) but was turned down. Instead, the part was given to David Carradine, an actor with hitherto no background in the martial arts. The reason: Lee was considered "too Chinese" to play the mixed-race character.

Here's a clip of Caine dealing with racism:

The method of nonviolence seeks not to humiliate and not to defeat the oppressor, but it seeks to win his friendship and his understanding. And thereby and therefore the aftermath of this method is reconciliation.

— Martin Luther King, Jr., 1956

*Mitch Stom 1970. Black Belt (Magazine). Vol. 8, No. 3, p.55.

The Art of Fighting Without Fighting

Somebody recently asked me which are the best techniques to use in a "real street fight." Are grappling moves superior to striking methods? Should punches be favored over kicks? I advised him to give equal regard to all things -- in training. That the best strategy in any fight is really not to fight. Later, I was reminded of a tale from medieval Japan about a samurai, Tsukahara Bokuden, a story I first encountered in the works of Donn Draeger. A modern version of this tale appears in this great scene from Bruce Lee's Enter The Dragon. Lee's character is threatened on a boat en route to a martial arts tournament by another competitor.

What follows is a lesson in the ultimate martial-art "technique":

Lower Back Issues

A typical karate class commences with jumbi undo (warm up exercises) to prevent injuries sustained during heavy sparring, drills or other complex movements. Still, being able to crank out a hundred knuckle pushups or run around the deck for ten laps may seem tedious if not downright unnecessary. A warm up routine is designed to prevent injuries, not to gauge stamina or waste class time.

Karateka are used to performing dozens of crunches, leg-outs and leg raises at the beginning of class. There's a good reason for this as having a strong abdominal wall is a prerequisite for core strength and stability. The antagonistic muscle region to the abdomen is the lower back. And a fairly common injury that visits martial-art practitioners - really, just about everybody at some time - seems to be lower back pain.

Weak back muscles will lead to injury, but even the exercises that promote this area can be problematic, especially when care isn't taken. Years ago while performing heavy barbell squats I felt excruciating pain in my lower back that resulted in sciatica. I was able to go to work, but for several weeks I had mild paralysis in my left glute, hamstring and calf. In 1970 Bruce Lee famously blew out his back performing 'good-mornings' -- a lower back exercise that involves holding a barbell on the shoulders behind the neck and lowering the torso parallel to the floor. Lee was reportedly using 125 lbs. for his good-morning routine -- 90 percent of his bodyweight! He was bedridden for six months, took time off to write, but eventually rehabilitated himself and resumed his training and movie career.

I've never even attempted good-mornings. Back in the day I'd perform heavy deadlifts, but after my squatting episode I became leery of hurting myself again. So for the past several years I've been using a hyperextension apparatus for my lower back. What I use is very similar to the one in the image below.

Some pointers:

1. Lie face down on a hyperextension bench, tucking your ankles securely under the footpads.
2. Adjust the upper pad if possible so your upper thighs lie flat across the wide pad, leaving enough room for you to bend at the waist without any restriction.
3. With your body straight, cross your arms in front of you (my preference) or behind your head. This will be your starting position. Tip: You can also hold a weight plate for extra resistance in front of you under your crossed arms.
4. Start bending forward slowly at the waist as far as you can while keeping your back flat. Inhale as you perform this movement. Keep moving forward until you feel a nice stretch on the hamstrings and you can no longer keep going without a rounding of the back. Tip: Never round the back as you perform this exercise. Also, some people can go farther than others. The key thing is that you go as far as your body allows you to without rounding the back.
5. Slowly raise your torso back to the initial position as you inhale. Tip: Avoid the temptation to arch your back past a straight line. Also, do not swing the torso at any time in order to protect the back from injury.
6. Repeat for the recommended amount of repetitions.

I do hyperextensions with some added resistance. I'll hold a weight plate to my chest with my arms crossed. I'll do thirty reps, place the weight down, clasp my hands behind my head and immediately pump out twenty more reps. And that's it. That's my lower back routine. Hyperextensions primarily work the quadratus lumborum muscles in the lower back and the spinal erector muscles that extend the length of the vertebral column. To a lesser extent the trapezius muscles that extend from the base of the neck to the upper back are activated and also the hamstrings. (Hamstrings in particular need to be stretched out after this routine as they will be very tight.) I perform this routine in conjunction with abs; sometimes before ab exercises, sometimes after. My rep range is high to promote endurance, modest strength and plenty of blood flow to an area of the body that is more bone, cartilage and sacral nerves than muscle.

For lower back exercise some martial-art routines employ use of the 'butterfly' or 'superman' where you lie on your stomach then lift your head and limbs a few inches off the mat. They're challenging but they're static. For this reason I prefer and recommend the full-range hyperextension for lower back. In my opinion they're safe and very effective. Core stability that includes developing a strong lower back is imperative to performing any physical activity, whether you play golf, work for a living, or practice martial arts.

Deadly Targets

In martial arts, especially karate, the concept of "one-strike-one-kill" probably was derived from earlier weapons systems. In Chinese lore dim mak is regarded as the death touch, not necessarily delivered with brute force but bad intentions. Historian and perennial karateka Patrick McCarthy catalogs a plethora of "forbidden" vital points in his research of a classic text in The Bible of Karate: Bubishi. The said vital points were actually discovered by acupuncturists during the Ming dynasty. Knowledge of these areas in time became the foundation for self-defense, intended for doctors and scholars.

Chinese martial arts eventually made their way to the island of Okinawa. Okinawan karate has distinct Chinese quan fa roots, and naturally karate has developed its own repertoire of vital strikes that are the stuff of legends. In Okinawan Karate: Teachers, styles and secret techniques, author Mark Bishop describes certain delayed-effect strikes that took their toll on many an overseas visiting trainee that failed to abide by dojo etiquette. Months or even years later these hapless victims would suffer from irreparable internal organ damage or some mysterious disease that could not be explained by Western medicine.

In self-defense courses geared towards women, the main target areas are eyes, throat, groin and knees. Supposedly if you kick or strike someone hard enough in the groin he'll pass out. One of Bruce Lee's favorite tricks was a finger jab to the eye, likely a setup for a finishing move. Of course all of this has spawned a market for instant gratification addicts who want to learn "the good stuff" right away without having to devote years to traditional martial arts training. Scores of books and courses found in magazines with titles like "Learn Deadly Strikes" intended to "protect you and your loved ones" have undoubtedly sold millions since the 60s. In the 70s it was the infamous Count Dante, the Deadliest Man Alive, who sold how-to guides on vital area striking methods. More on this particular topic can be found in my Retro Ads post that I wrote in 2006.

There is one area of the body that when targeted is a relatively safe peacemaker: the solar plexus. One guy I train with exploits this target area using a variant of Isshinryu's basic 14: step into zenkutsu dachi (long, forward stance) while executing a palm-heel followed by two consecutive roundhouse punches to the body. His version uses the palm heel to deflect an incoming strike, followed by just one - it's all that's needed - hooking ridge hand to the solar plexus. Game over.

Striking Distance

Middle-Aged Martial Artist recently penned a post about punching range, in particular how boxers use "reach" to their advantage. In the Sweet Science, having long arms is considered favorable as a skilled fighter can use them to keep an invasive opponent on the outside. The pugilist's jab or the karateka's forward leg front kick both work effectively to stop an aggressor in his tracks.

Still, if you don't possess the reach advantage, or even if you're not that good of a fighter on the outside, getting in that close range shot may be you're best bet. Short strikes such as hooks and uppercuts are fast, powerful and difficult to detect. It was fifties boxing contender Rocky Marciano that delivered a crushing right cross that traveled a mere six inches to knock the heavyweight crown right off Jersey Joe Walcott's head. Taken to its extreme, we have the controversial 1-inch punch that Bruce Lee demonstrates here in 1964:

I'm told that Lee's uke in this footage was in fact a judo player. Note that he's not braced in any kind of a fighting stance whatsoever when he gets hit. Also note that Lee's arm is nearly extended prior to punching. Maybe it's just me, but this looks more like a push than anything else.

Supposedly the trick to this little 1-inch miracle shot is to deliver the strike with a vertical fist and upon impact torque the still standing fist to protrude the bottom two knuckles (as opposed to the traditional method of striking with the top two knuckles). In this way ki-energy that already is flowing down the ulna of the forearm will be dispensed into the bottom portion of the fist and into the hapless opponent. This certainly wasn't Lee's explaination as he had some serious doubts about the existence of ki at all. Draeger believed in its presence but from a practical viewpoint, sans the "carnival hocus-pocus" seen in clips of George Dillman, Jack Hogan, et al.

One noteworthy theory of ki is that it begins in the lower extremities and then radiates to wherever you can get it to go. This idea holds up well alongside of the bio-mechanics involved with delivering any kind of strike. Proper foot alignment and rotation of hips are critical to executing maximum force to punches. Getting real power into short range strikes can be tricky - it might require a little magic - but definitely requires lots of practice.

Wanna Fight?

Most people get into the martial arts simply to learn how to defend themselves. Indeed, self-defense is a common euphemism for traditional martial arts (as opposed to the competitive variety or MMA). Sports such as wrestling or boxing will draw a camp that have natural inclinations to do battle. The peculiarity of the martial arts is that its adherents are taught to walk away from trouble. But we all have met those who actually enjoy a good fight. As an ethnic group, the Irish are likened to having a propensity to fight. Donnybrook, Ireland was the site of a fair held for centuries until it was discontinued in 1855 due to massive brawling. Hence, a donnybrook came to be known as any group-like melee. The Irish-Americans that I know relish their fighting heritage, so I can't be accused of stereotyping. That's not my intention anyway.

Students that enjoy kumite (sparring) tend to progress well with this activity, irrespective of any athletic deficiencies. They like to fight, ergo they experiment and research various methods, perhaps more than the next trainee. Technical ability is great, but it still takes guts (hara) to fight. A fine instructor once told me that fighting was 20 percent technique, 80 percent nerve. For some, getting up nerve is a major problem. For others it's a veritable party.

If fighting really appeals to you, doesn't this make you a potential troublemaker? Isn't this antithetical to the spirit of budo? A bushi is a warrior, which implies that combat has some higher, loftier purpose than just someone who engages in contests. Choki Motobu would routinely field-test his fighting skills in his pursuit of Okinawan karate. Clearly this man liked to fight, but his reputation denied his admission to nearly every dojo on the island. As youths, Ed Parker and Bruce Lee actively sought out street matches to gauge their progress. Certainly, their contributions are undeniable.

In John Stevens' Invincible Warrior there are a series of old photos in the back of the book that depict Morihei Ueshiba performing something called "Smiling Technique Variations". Sure enough, we see the master beaming as he throws one of his poor disciples clear across the room. The author didn't elaborate, but it reminds me of something Winston Churchill once said: "I like a man who grins when he fights."

The Tao of Lee

For those of you who have ever been inspired by the legendary Bruce Lee here's a place where some interesting discourse is taking place. Put in your two cents!

Armed and Dangerous

Bruce Lee was my first martial arts hero as he was for everyone else from my generation. Originally he appeared in the short lived The Green Hornet TV series, but when I think of Lee the image that really stands out in my mind is that Enter The Dragon movie poster with his dreaded nunchaku held out in a menacing pose. Of all the traditional weapons (kobudo) I'd have to say that the nunchaku are possibly the most potentially lethal, because of its whip-like action. Like its kobudo relatives, its original purpose was for farming; in this case to thresh grain in the fields. Pre-industrial farming was quite arduous, and it didn't take long for the oppressed but hardened Okinawans (who were banned from using conventional weapons by foreign rule) to figure out that these farming implements could be used as convincing deterrents against a variety of neighboring invaders.

Over the weekend a British lad was killed by some lunatic showcasing his nunchaku skills, and since this occurred at a youth party I'm guessing alcohol was involved. A few months ago a couple of martial-art "retail suppliers" from my area were busted for selling samurai swords, throwing stars and the like to minors. In my day, drug paraphernalia were the hot novelty items, not Asian weapons. Socrates' assertion that kids' behavior has never been worse is probably wrong, but they do seem to be more violent today than ever, especially as one witnesses the increase in use of armed security and metal detectors at public schools.

Somewhere I have a book with an old photo of Taira Shinken - the preeminent Okinawan kobudo master - training with a pair of sai (tri-pronged daggers) while donning some heavy full-body protective gear, possibly for some free-style action. Could you imagine sparring with these things? Supposedly it was US marines that trained in Isshinryu karate who created bo-bo kumite to simulate an actual battle between two bo (staff) wielders. It's a prearranged form, but with some tweaking and a little know-how it can be made to look like a real fight.

Although historically weapons came first in the martial arts, most schools won't introduce traditional weapons until the student approaches a brown belt grade. Karate is a way of life, but I'm not sure what kind of life skills can be gleaned from the practice of kobudo. Regardless, kobudo - like karate - represents a part of the culture, heritage, and history of Okinawa.

The Moment of Truth

Bruce Lee once said (to paraphrase), "when faced with the enemy, don't look for an escape route. Be ready to lay down your life." As modern practitioners of the martial arts, are we really prepared for such an event? Is your dojo a crucible for the real world? More to the point, do we have what it takes to properly respond to a life-and-death situation?

The following is a story taken from a report by the Associated Press dated Friday, 2/23/07:

A party of senior citizen American tourists were sightseeing from a chartered van while vacationing in Costa Rica. When they arrived at their destination, they all began to off board the vehicle when gunshots were heard. Three men donning ski masks rushed the elderly group. The apparent leader of the trio held a gun to the head of a female tourist and announced a robbery, while his accomplices beckoned the rest with knives. One of the tourists, an ex-serviceman in his seventies and trained in self-defense, somehow managed to free the hostage with the help of the others and subdue the gunman with a devastating headlock/choke hold. The maneuver proved to be fatal as the robber was later pronounced dead upon arrival at a local hospital. Costa Rican authorities wouldn't charge the American and cited "self defense" as just cause for his actions. The slain robber, Warner Segura, 20, had a rap sheet which included a history of assault charges. His accomplices remain at large at the time of this writing.

Although the official statement of this good Samaritan may never become public, I can say with certainty that he did not ponder, reflect upon, or consider the possibilities of "what ifs" prior to his heroic deed.

This time, justice prevailed.

Lights, Camera, Action!

Asian immigrants and post second World War US servicemen returning from overseas were the first exponents of martial arts in the West. But only when the martial arts were depicted on the silver screen and in television did they explode in popularity. Mr. Moto and James Cagney's Blood On The Sun featured early portrayals of some slick judo action in movies. Later, when Bruce Lee's character of Kato on TV's The Green Hornet first aired, it was just the beginning. The viewing public had never seen such acrobatic martial mayhem before. The role of Kato was the perfect showcase for Lee's talents, as he began to teach a prototype of his jeet kune do to Hollywood's elite. The normally secretive Chinese community were extremely displeased with Lee's open teachings of what they perceived to be "their" martial arts, but Lee himself saw his road to success in the film industry.

Lee's contributions may have helped set the stage for the popular weekly 70s show Kung Fu. The role of the wandering Kwai Chang Caine was a first; the martial arts were presented in a character who was deeply philosophical and the series was curiously set in a late nineteenth century Old Western background. Kato, Billy Jack, et al, though they were cast as the good guys, left little doubt that fighting fire with fire took precedence over ethereal flashbacks to Shaolin temple anecdotes. Nevertheless, Caine always delivered one or two memorable fight scenes per episode. Cowboys and kung fu made for an entertaining and very interesting mix.

Comedy has found its way into the most unlikely subjects in movies and TV (remember Hogan's Heroes?) and the martial arts were not to be excluded. Jackie Chan was trained in Chinese opera as a child and was later influenced by silent movie legend Charlie Chaplin, which led him to create a genre of movies that combines martial arts, humor, and spectacular stunts - mostly performed by Chan himself. Chan has been called the Evel Knievel of martial arts for the myriad of stunt related injuries he's incurred through his years of movie making.

While Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon has been hailed as a milestone film, on the opposite end of the spectrum we have the likes of A Fistful of Yen - a parody of Lee's classic Enter The Dragon which concludes with the same closing scene from The Wizard of Oz! Columnist and author Dave Barry once remarked "karate is a form of martial arts in which people who have had years and years of training can - using only their hands and feet - make some of the worst movies in the history of the world." I wonder if Barry has ever seen the epic Kung Fu Hustle?

Retro Ads

Yes, now you can learn martial arts the fast and easy way in the comfort of your own home! That's right. All you need to do is scrape up some pocket change and we'll rush you deadly Asian fighting secrets never before revealed!

Martial arts enthusiast Dan Kelly has compiled an interesting albeit hilarious collection of mail-order self defense courses from yesteryear. Talk about "buyer beware"! I know I'm giving away my age here, but some of these ads I actually remember. They were typically found on the back pages of many popular comic books which also carried products like X-Ray Glasses and the now classic The Day Mac Became A Man ads that were run by bodybuilding guru Charles Atlas. The credentials of some of these so-called karate masters that were featured on these courses were questionable to say the least. Needless to say, most of the ads were geared toward testosterone driven young men who either thought that learning martial arts overnight would turn them into chick magnets, or had visions of becoming the next Kato (Bruce Lee's first TV gig as a kung fu crime-fighting superhero c. 1965).

There was still some public naivete in the West about the martial arts during the era that these ads ran; it was a time when judo was popularly used as a generic term to describe any martial-art style, and black belt "holders" were regarded as invincible warriors.

I truthfully never knew anyone who actually sent away for one of those pseudo-self defense courses. One friend of mine did get the Charles Atlas Dynamic Tension muscle building program. I got the X-Ray Glasses. And somewhere Bruce Lee is having a really good laugh.

Pushing The Boundaries of Competitive Martial Arts

Ever since the martial arts officially arrived in the US in the 50s it seems every decade since has had its own defining moment. The 60s gave us Bruce Lee. The 70s introduced the public to the TV series Kung Fu which greatly popularized that art in the West. The 80s saw perhaps the biggest wave of all with The Karate Kid movie series. The epic of Daniel-san and his karate mentor Mr. Miyagi is now a part of pop culture. The 90s, however, brought us to something that had controversy surrounding it in its shaky relationship to traditional martial arts: Mixed Martial Arts.

When Brazilian jiu-jitsu players introduced their version of Vale Tudo (lit. anything goes) as a mixed martial arts tournament in the US back in the early 90s, the idea was to pit exponents of various styles against one another to see which one would reign supreme. The first Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) became the most heralded sporting event in martial arts history. To call these matches violent would be an understatement. Visions of Shaolin monks sitting in meditation on a secluded mountain began to quickly fade in the wake of these often brutal and bloody contests. Martial philosophy and spirituality were nowhere to be found in these outrageous spectacles. The UFC looked like a depraved video game come to life. Suddenly US politicians everywhere jumped on the bandwagon to protest the so-called savagery of no-holds-barred fighting. Some UFC fighters were actually arrested in Canada for competing in these events. While many viewed the UFC as reprehensible for what appeared to be gratuitous violence, others saw it as a necessary retrogression of sorts - a return to what the martial arts were originally intended for: uninhibited combat.

Training For Power

Waza (technique), and its precise execution, is such a vital aspect of the martial arts in that it allows a smaller, physically weaker person to prevail against a larger, stronger antagonist. Still, in spite of this statement, physical strength has its place, and under certain circumstances can go a long way for the practitioner. This is in no way to discredit the effectiveness of using proper form in techniques, nor should this principle ever be dismissed. But I believe that any physical endeavor, including martial arts training, should include a regimen of weight training to develop strength.

At one time, strength training with weights was considered taboo for the athlete. With the exception of football players, competitive weightlifters and bodybuilders, athletes were strictly advised to avoid lifting weights. One myth attributed to weight training is that it compromises speed and flexibility - two sought after qualities in the martial arts. Flexibility is the result of proper stretching, which should be done daily and is especially recommended before and after a martial arts session. Speed is acquired through training for that capacity, and can be developed alongside of a strength training routine without one interfering with the other.

During Okinawan karate's early development, ishi-sashi were used in a fashion similar to using dumbbells. These hand-held stone devices were carried as the practitioner performed kata and various strikes. In the 60s, martial arts historian Donn Draeger was one of the first to suggest a weight training program for judo players. In addition to Draeger, Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee were advocates of weight training for martial artists at about the same time.

Besides making muscles grow, weight training causes bones to become denser, offsetting the possibility of osteoporosis late in life (prevalent in women). Added muscle also creates a more efficient metabolism, capable of burning fat at rest (as opposed to a cardio workout, which only burns fat while training). Today, it is a rare athlete that doesn't employ some kind of progressive resistance training.

Mixing It Up

Bruce Lee predicted that the day would come when practitioners everywhere would have to resign themselves to an irrefutable truth: Knowing only one style is limiting; that cross-training in the martial arts is the best way to develop a formidable repertoire of fighting techniques. Lee himself borrowed from a variety of systems, including Western arts such as fencing and boxing. He felt that the single study of any style, while they all contain deep wells of material, could cause the aspirant to become dogmatic and exclusive. A martial fundamentalist if you will. Interestingly, Lee's thinking mirrored what was happening in the US on a much broader scale at the time; the 60s was a decade of radical change and upheaval - a breaking away from dated ways and ideas. Needless to say, Lee's concept of cross-training did not go over big with the old school strict adherents of martial tradition. Visionaries tend to say the right things at the wrong time.

No single style has an answer for every imaginable encounter. Brazilian jiu-jitsu's ground strategies are highly effective - but against multiple opponents? Would those who train in a predominantly kicking art - such as tae kwon do - be able to execute their familiar techniques standing on a patch of ice? These are just a couple of scenarios to consider. I'm not suggesting that people should run out and start training in a hodgepodge of every style they can get their hands on. I'm still a firm believer in having a foundational art to work from. Being a jack of all trades will never measure up to being a master of one.

Go Your Own Way

When a new student commences training, all (s)he can do is copy the instructor and the sempai (senior students). While "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" holds true, imitation is all one can really do as a novice studying the martial arts. Seeing the moves of a kata for the first time makes little or no sense to the initiate. Through the alchemy of training, the practitioner matures and changes. And so then, the style is suited to fit the disposition and natural tendencies particular to the student. "Absorb what is useful, reject what is not" is the main tenet behind Bruce Lee's famous school of Jeet Kune Do. The artist is more important than the art.

Although the master-disciple relationship is pronounced in the East, the student's needs and talents are generally kept in abeyance. Carl Jung coined the term individuation to convey the idea that not only do we have a special purpose here, but a unique way of expressing it. The kohai (beginner) learns his art by rote. But to become unto oneself, all of our lessons and experiences have to be researched and adapted to our personal direction. The founders of every martial arts system were great innovators who questioned their received knowledge. The advent of a style, or any new way of doing something, is the flowering of an idea whose time has come.

The Art of Strategy

A famous legend in martial arts lore tells of Tsukahara Bokuden, a medieval Japanese kenshi. One day while traveling on a commuter boat packed with people, Bokuden was abruptly challenged by another swordfighter who was boasting of his prodigious fighting skill. To avoid engaging in some deadly contest in the presence and proximity of innocent civilians, it was mutually decided that they would set sail to a small island nearby to settle things. Allowing his challenger to alight the shore of the island first, Bokuden, remaining aboard, quickly navigated the vessel away, leaving his unsuspecting antagonist stranded. "This is how we defeat the enemy in my system of fighting!" exclaimed Bokuden.

This amusing anecdote (a version of it appears in Bruce Lee's Enter The Dragon), illustates how a potential threat can be thwarted by using some ingenuity. Deception and artifice can still be used even if combat is inevitable. Musashi, in his later years, would feign feebleness and senility in order to draw a younger stalwart into striking range. Heiho - strategy, not physical skills, signified the true measure and spirit of the classical warrior.