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.

The Return of Bare-Knuckle Fighting

A sanctioned and regulated bare-knuckle boxing event will take place June 2nd in Cheyenne, Wyoming, USA. The last time a championship boxing match sans gloves took place is when John L. Sullivan defended his world heavyweight title against Jake Kilrain in 1889.* In those days London Prize Rules governed boxing, whereby sweeps, takedowns and throws were permitted. In the updated version of fisticuffs, weight classes will be similar to those found in MMA, and standup-style grappling that allows for the fighters to hit with a free hand will be permitted.

Getting the rights to make bare-knuckle boxing a legal reality was no easy task for promoter Dave Feldman:

Feldman said he went to 28 different athletic commissions and was rejected by all of them until Wyoming played ball. His argument is that gloves were adopted for boxing and MMA to protect the hands of fighters — not their heads. Bare knuckle, Feldman argues, is actually safer when it comes to concussions and brain injuries than boxing.

The card will feature a number of seasoned fighters from boxing, MMA, kickboxing, and Muay Thai. Punches are the only strikes that will be allowed. Fighters will only have hand wraps that end one inch from the knuckles. No doubt it will be a bloody affair like MMA, but hey, that's what sells tickets. Time will tell if this newfangled aberration in combat sports catches on.


* Sullivan would wait more than four years before defending his title again, this time donning gloves under Marquess of Queensberry Rules against a smaller and less experienced fighter, James J. Corbett. Nonetheless, Corbett took Sullivan's title, utilizing a savvy, technical approach that would become a staple of modern prizefighting. Sullivan retired after his loss, and the barns that he trained in for the Kilrain fight was made into the Bare Knuckle Boxing Hall of Fame. Yes, there is such a thing.

Rousey vs. Holm: My Two Cents

This post begins with an admission: I am, at best, a casual fan of mixed martial arts. By now, any real MMA fan has heard that Ronda Rousey, the UFC Women's Bantamweight Champion, was defeated last night (Sat., Nov. 14, 2015) by a relative unknown — Holly Holm. So the following is my naïve understanding of a sport that I really don't follow closely, and it is with this neophytic perspective (along with my actual knowledge of karate, among other things) that I'll weigh in.

Nobody gave Holm a chance. She was regarded as mere cannon fodder for the indestructible machine that the undefeated Rousey has been portrayed as, and justifiably so. Her last three bouts have lasted an average of 22 seconds each! An adept striker, Rousey's real forte is judo, as she earned a bronze medal at the 2008 Olympics.

Witness the second and final round of the match. Rousey is forced out of her comfort zone of close quarter grappling by Holm's strategy of maintaining a healthy distance. Holm, a southpaw and a former professional boxer and kickboxer, repeatedly lands crushing left crosses against Rousey's unprotected face. Note the sweet slip Holm gives Rousey at 4:28. The coup de grâce was a brutal round kick to the neck by Holm.

Holm's transition from boxing to MMA may be wiser than she realizes. MMA has been shown to be less injurious than boxing.

Some thoughts I've held for a while, but culminated with this match:

• Many fights don't end up as a ground-and-pound wrestling match.
• MMA is not merely sportive head bashing, but a highly technical art that deserves respect.
• Women in MMA can be as popular as their male counterparts.
• The idea that competitive fighters of any stripe are heartless thugs that lack empathy is largely a myth.

The golden age of women's MMA has begun. Indeed, MMA in general is here to stay. Anyone who thinks otherwise is sadly mistaken.

'Judo' Gene vs. The Boxer

While I was researching for a possible post on legalizing MMA in my home state of New York, I stumbled upon an old story (news to me!) about the grappling great Gene LeBell. Apparently, yesterday was "Judo" Gene's 83rd birthday, so to commemorate the event, the tale of his bout with a professional boxer has been popping up on MMA sites.

The story starts when an article in the August, 1963 edition of Rogue magazine included this gem about judo:

Judo … is a complete fraud. … Every judo man I’ve ever met was a braggart and a showoff. … Any boxer can beat a judo man. Judo bums hear me one and all! It is one thing to fracture pine boards, bricks and assorted inanimate objects, but quite another to climb into a ring with a trained and less cooperative target. My money is ready. Where are the takers?

The writer, one Jim Beck, obviously had judo confused with karate or something else, as if that would have mattered to him or most of his readership. Beck supposedly was an amateur boxer of some renown and claimed to have beaten a judo player using his boxing craft. So Beck promised to pay 1000 dollars to any "Judo Bum" who could whip him in a match!

LeBell, a former two-time US judo champ, was tipped off about this offer and jumped at the opportunity to fight an amateur boxer for a cool grand — serious money in 1963. The match was arranged to be held in Salt Lake City as this type of mixed event would be either unsanctioned or illegal everywhere else. At the last minute however, Beck sobered up to the prospect of duking it out with the likes of LeBell and substituted himself with a ringer: former middleweight contender Milo Savage. Savage's professional record was 49-46-9 and was 39 years old (LeBell was 31). He was an over-the-hill journeyman, but had beaten some highly regarded fighters in his day. There was even a rumor that Savage had broken the jaw of a local karate instructor during an impromptu match.

The rules for the scheduled 5-round bout were that punches and grappling were allowed, but no kicks. LeBell was barefoot and donned a judo gi while Savage wore lightweight speed-bag gloves, but also wore a gi top, as requested by LeBell's handlers. As the bout started both men were naturally leery of each other and managed to avoid any type of wild clashes. By the fourth round LeBell began to warm to the the task and finally closed the distance. After grabbing Savage he executed a hip throw with a sweep, taking him to the canvas, then finished him off with a rear choke hold. Not knowing how to tap out or signal quits, Savage was rendered unconscious and remained so for about twenty minutes. Pandemonium ensued as fans hurled garbage and chairs into the ring, likely because it was assumed their hometown fighter had just been killed!

Savage only fought one more time before he officially retired from boxing. For LeBell, it was a defining moment for judo — and really, martial arts in general. LeBell would become a sought-out stuntman and stunt coordinator for Hollywood, working on on hundreds of movies and TV shows. Today, he is highly respected by martial artists all over the world.

In conclusion: Never mess with someone nicknamed "The Toughest Man Alive" and who is secure enough to wear a pink gi.

Iron Fist Training

Let me state that this is not a tutorial on how to develop manos de piedra - "hands of stone" - which is the famous moniker of prizefighter Roberto Duran. My use of a provocative title may be misleading. For the record I don't subscribe to the idea that hands can be conditioned into something akin to an anvil . Hands did not evolve to break open body parts and certain traditional training methods to toughen them can wreak havoc. Actually, this post was inspired by an impromptu sparring session I had this past weekend (my first in quite a while) that resulted in the first two knuckles on my left hand to swell to frightening proportions. I wore cotton hand-guards that leave the fingers exposed, and while my striking force was left in reserve for the most part, apparently, that wasn't good enough. This is really the result of chronic damage from years of sparring. (Note to readers: When you feel pain from an activity, stopping said activity is advised.) A colleague told me I should perform pushups on my knuckles to avert future injury. Another suggested training on a more time-honored method: The makiwara. I don't think so to either one.

A grandmaster of Matsubayashi-ryu once told me that any respectable dojo should have a makiwara on the premises. A makiwara is a wooden striking post designed to develop punching prowess and accuracy, not to put callouses on knuckles. Karateka that have knuckles that look like they're jacked on steriods may look impressive and could be held as a perverse badge of honor. Ego trips like this can go either way as one Okinawan karate historian tells:

Arakaki's father often warned him about making large black callouses on his knuckles. One reason was that, as his father was a merchant, customers would, on seeing the swollen and deformed hands, be easily frightened away. Another reason was that local ruffians would often try to pick fights on the pseudo-karate-ka who flouted such grotesque trophies. 'After practice on the makiwara,' Arakaki told me, 'it is a good idea to wash one's hands in salt water (or urine) and then alcohol; if the skin is cut, always carefully sterilise the affected area.'¹

There's a market that offers a wide range of liniments with names like "Iron Hit Wine" and "Tiger Balm" that, while pricey at roughly $20 for a 2 oz. dose, provides a more sanitary method of treatment than urine. Once during an Isshinryu karate demonstration held for US marines on Okinawa, Tatsuo Shimabuku cut his hand while driving a spike through a slab of wood. There was no liniment or any first-aid handy, so in a pinch he applied some dirt to the wound to stop the bleeding.

I've never trained on a makiwara, which is supposedly of Chinese origin, not Okinawan as many believe.² Indeed, the Chinese method of "Iron Bone Hand" training, developed as a method for maiming and killing, appears in Article 20 of the Bubishi stating:

The Iron Bone Hand technique can only be developed through relentless training. After thrusting the bare hand into a container filled with hot sand on a daily basis for many weeks, the fingers gradually become conditioned enough to initiate the secondary stage of training. After thrusting the bare hand into a container filled with gravel on a daily basis for many weeks, the fingers will become even more conditioned so that the final stage of conditioning can be initiated. The final stage of conditioning requires one to thrust the bare hand into a container of even larger stones. This special kind of conditioning will lead to hand deformity and the loss of one's fingernails. Alternative training methods often include thrusting the bare hand into bundles of wrapped bamboo in an effort to condition the fingers for lethal stabbing and poking.³

There's a tenet of unknown origin that advises to "attack soft tissue with a hard-surface hand-strike, and a hard area with a soft-surface hand-strike." Hammerfist, shuto (blade-hand), and palm-heel use the fleshier part of the hand that tend to be less injurious than a closed-fist if your target area is someone's head. In boxing, heavy hitters occasionally break their hands delivering the KO punch, this in spite of wrapping their hands in plenty of gauze and donning 10 or 12 oz. gloves. You'll also never see a boxer hit any kind of a bag without gloves. And some karate men, such as Isshinryu's Angi Uezu, have been known to doggedly hit that makiwara bare-handed. Somebody's wrong here.



1. Mark Bishop 1999. Okinawan Karate: Teachers, styles and secret techniques. Tuttle Publishing.
2. Ibid.
3. Patrick McCarthy 1995. The Bible of Karate: Bubishi. Tuttle Publishing.

MMA: Sport or Spectacle?

A co-worker asked me recently if I thought mixed martial arts was a "sport." Sport as a word has a wide range. Badminton is a sport. So are billiards. I think what my friend was getting at, like many people, is twofold. First, it's the idea that MMA contests are seemingly devoid of any rules. Secondly, rules notwithstanding, anything that involves gore and violence of this kind shouldn't even be granted viewership, let alone be classified as sport. MMA is still banned in my home state of New York, much to the delight, I'm sure, of promoters in neighboring New Jersey where it is sanctioned and regulated.

Getting MMA on legally equal footing with boxing, kickboxing, etc., has been no easy task for its proponents, thanks to propaganda and bad press. Politicians such as John McCain railed against MMA in the 90s. Still, in spite of what appears to be gratuitous violence, MMA is no more dangerous to its competitors than other contact sports. A John Hopkins University School of Medicine study from 2006 verifies that...

Mixed Martial Arts competitions have changed dramatically since the first Ultimate Fighting Championship in 1993. The overall injury rate in MMA competitions is now similar to other combat sports, including boxing. Knockout rates are lower in MMA competitions than in boxing. This suggests a reduced risk of TBI [traumatic brain injury] in MMA competitions when compared to other events involving striking.

Years later, McCain did recant somewhat on his earlier position by stating, "They have cleaned up the sport to the point, at least in my view, where it is not human cockfighting any more. I think they've made significant progress. They haven't made me a fan, but they have made progress."

Granted, I'm not a fan of MMA, either. At this point, "mixed martial arts" strikes me as a misnomer. If I was born a generation later my take on it would be different, I'm sure.

I don't think MMA should be banned, though. What do you think?

Boxers Who Could've Been Martial Artists

Dojo Rat's recent musings over Western boxing's influence on Asian martial arts got me thinking about some of history's greatest pugilists. DR claims that boxing doesn't really qualify as an art form, due to its lacking of a philosophical base. I tend to agree. You won't find a dojo kun hanging on the wall in a boxing gym, nobody bows before stepping into the ring, and respect is earned or imparted simply through fighting. Indeed, fighter is a common expression used to describe a practitioner of the "Sweet Science." I have to be honest, if I had to pick a winner in a street match between a run-of-the-mill martial arts exponent and an equivalent boxer, I'd go with the latter.

Boxing though has had its share of "bums". Equally, as historian Patrick McCarthy recently pointed out, there are karateka that come from "genuine" backgrounds and who can't punch their way out of a paper bag. Great boxers are defined by great opponents, but also by their temperament, in and out of the ring. A few of boxing's former world champions come to mind that had characteristics congruous to the model of a traditional martial artist.


Willie Pep

Featherweights as a rule of thumb don't have the mass appeal of the big bread winners - the heavyweights. Pep - a World War II era boxer - is regarded as the greatest 126-pounder of all time for his elusiveness. Really, if you think about it, the whole idea in the martial arts isn't hitting, it's about not getting hit, which was Pep's ace in the hole. Pep actually won a round on points once without throwing a single punch ! Head feints, foot work and lateral movement (can you say tai sabaki?) kept most of Pep's 241(!) opponents at bay. If anyone mastered the art of defense, it was Pep.


Alexis Arguello

Earlier I mentioned respect, and none earned it more than Arguello, in part, because he knew how to give respect. Always a consummate gentleman, Arguello would actually wish his opponent luck before a bout and never partook in the usual alpha-male hype and posturing found in sports figures today. Although intellectual, well-mannered and sincere, Arguello was truly a warrior who possessed devastating knockout power. After he retired from boxing in the 80s he became a soldier fighting government oppression in his native Nicaragua. Now that's a warrior.


Muhammad Ali

Ali (b. Cassius Clay) was generally seen as a buffoon when he first hit the boxing scene in the early 60s. Part bullying loudmouth, part lunatic, Ali for sure would've failed an interview with a master had he been vying for discipleship in a traditional dojo. But his brand of strategic pre-fight verbal jabbing and psychological warfare would've made Musashi proud. In spite of his rantings out of the ring, Ali could walk his talk. He had remarkable speed for a heavyweight ("I'm so fast, when I turn out the lights to go to sleep, I'm in bed before the room gets dark") and had enormous reserves of toughness (he once fought most of a bout with a broken jaw). He was a master strategist in the ring, at times allowing a bigger and more formidable opponent to "punch themselves out." His "dancing" foot movement is reputed to have been copied by Bruce Lee. In 1976, Ali fought Japanese grappler Antonio Inoki to a 15-round draw in a prototype match to what we now call Mixed Martial Arts.

----

The real difference between boxing and martial arts is longevity. Professional fighters must retire, and they usually don't retire well. Martial artists don't get older, they just get better.

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.

Evolution

Change is good. Or is it? Over the past several years we've seen a major shift in what people refer to as "martial arts." Currently, MMA is in vogue, and already there are thick boundaries drawn between what is considered nouveau and the time-honored traditional martial arts. It seems TMA are no longer fashionable, as heavy emphasis is being placed on the combat effectiveness of an art, quite often to the exclusion of all else. Asian martial arts in particular have always been shrouded in a little mystery. Chi/ki-energy, mind control, and superhuman abilities are the stuff of urban legends and hucksters. With the advent of reality fighting all bets are off. There are no secrets.

There's this place near my job that offers boxing, sambo, jiu-jitsu, the works. The area with mats is surrounded by a chain-link fence. In one corner of this school someone is working on a speed bag, while in another, basic self defense drills are taking place. This type of eclectic approach has become the norm, and I'm left wondering if becoming a jack of all trades is better than being a master of merely one. Is learning a hodgepodge of styles the direction that the martial arts are heading towards? Some of the old time masters forbade their students from cross-training in other styles, but the founders of many traditional systems did just that to develop their own curricula.

Previously, I mentioned TMA as being "time-honored" but truth be told, the majority of traditional styles are barely a century old. Tae kwon do, aikido and karate - while they have ancient roots - were all formally systemized in the twentieth century. Judo, which was created in 1882, actually negated the nasty martial applications found in jiu-jitsu so it could be taught to school children and the proletariat. Budo, the martial ways, flourished during Japanese peacetime as a dignified and ethical pursuit of warriorship. Today, we can watch bloody cage matches on TV or YouTube. So much for evolution. Change is not always good, but for sure it's inevitable.

Boxing vs. Mixed Martial Arts

Few people realize that boxing has a history that is as rich and varied as most Asian martial arts. Nineteenth century boxing actually resembled today's mixed martial arts (MMA). Prior to the Marquess of Queensberry charter that incorporates the now mandatory gloves, London Prize Rules boxing or fisticuffs allowed throws as well as punches. These bare-knuckled events were brutal, and quite often matches had to be held in secret, lest the intervention of local constables.

In the early twentieth century "open to all" tournaments in Japan were fairly common. One legend tells of a European prize fighter defeating one judoka after another when Okinawan karate virtuoso Choki Motobu stepped into the ring. "Maybe judo isn't the answer" proclaimed Motobu as he knocked out the boxer with a shuto (knife hand) to the temple in the second round.

In 1950 Helio Gracie, the famous founder of Brazilian jiu-jitsu, challenged then heavyweight boxing champ Joe Louis to a no-holds-barred match. Louis, who had nothing to gain and everything to lose with such an event, wisely declined. Two decades later Japanese grappler Antonio Inoki took on Muhammad Ali in a 15-rounder. Inoki was billed as a pro wrestler, but he previously defeated numerous martial art exponents in legit contests. The match was a bizarre one as Inoki spent almost the entire time on the ground in a futile attempt to kick or sweep out Ali's legs. The fight was declared a draw, but even Ali's typical pre-fight hyping tantrums couldn't save this hopeless spectacle.

When MMA bouts first made their appearance in the 90s there was some clamor as to whether a fading Mike Tyson would make an interesting opponent. How do you think Tyson would have fared against somebody like Royce Gracie? Gracie would've had his work cut out for him. Don't forget that Tyson was disqualified during a title fight when he tried to bite Evander Holyfield's ear off. It was a dark moment for boxing and Mike Tyson in time became his own worst enemy.

Unlike traditional martial arts, nobody ever seems to question the validity or street effectiveness of boxing. Indeed, boxing as a viable method of self defense is explored in this TDA Training article. Boxing is still one of the most dangerous sports as there have been a number of ring deaths through the years, to say nothing of the long term health risks involved with being a career fighter. Recently MMA suffered its first fatality as the result of a sanctioned match. Some proponents of MMA insist that it's safer than boxing, but the jury is still out on that verdict. Will MMA even be able to survive the way "The Sweet Science" has for so many years? Time will tell.

Fear of Fighting

The young competitor was sick to his stomach. He made a last dash to the bathroom before his name was called. Here he was, a newly promoted black belt at one of the biggest tournaments in the US, fighting an even bigger name - an ex-serviceman with an impressive record who had started his training in Korea. "Don't worry, you'll do just fine", his adversary promised with compassion rarely displayed at a karate event.

Many people come to the martial arts because they abhor the idea of fighting, and simply want to learn some practical self defense. "I hate sparring" is actually a fairly common utterance in some schools. Part of this is due to the fact that kumite is taken personally by certain players who feel a need to prove their dominance over others. The stock warning issued by one instructor I used to know - "lighten up or I'll show you how hard I hit" - only served to reinforce the macho tendencies that were already well established. I've seen a number of decent students leave karate because of runaway sparring matches and indifferent coaching practices. Although anything can happen on the street , there has to be some semblance of fairness in the dojo.

The body is constantly eavesdropping on our thoughts and responds accordingly. Fear is negative energy that takes its toll on us physically; its debilitating effect produces fatigue. Another by-product of fear is shallow, labored breathing. While emotions do affect the quality of respiration, the opposite is also true: proper breathing can re-stabilize our emotions. Taking a slow, deep breath to calm the nerves before sparring or testing can be very effective.

Legendary boxing coach Ray Arcel once noted that no matter how confident a fighter may appear before a bout, there is still some remnant of fear beneath the image of toughness.

As for our nervous karate fighter at the big tournament - he ended up winning after all! And it would be the last time Chuck Norris would give friendly advice to someone he was about to do battle with. Never underestimate anyone, including and especially the fearful.

Less Is More

"Rank doesn't mean anything of itself. What counts is what you know", somebody once said to me. Rank in the martial arts is generally equated with knowledge. What about applying what you know? With that said, is it advisable to acquire knowledge of a multitude of techniques or is it better and more practical to have just a few at your disposal?

In boxing, there are four basic techniques: jab, cross, hook and uppercut. Yet an endless array of combinations and tactics are at hand for the boxer's discretion. "Shadow boxing" is the pugilist's version of kata (practice forms). Most karate systems offer over a dozen of these forms to be learned through black belt and beyond. Choki Motobu, Okinawan karate's early embodiment of a tough guy, preferred training on only one kata - one that he felt utilized the necessary side-to-side movement for an actual street fight. Since Motobu's version of bunkai (application) made use of an unwitting but usually very willing uke it's hard to argue with his methods.

Learning a plethora of skills is one thing; knowing which ones to use in a moment's notice is quite another. Practitioners who fear arriving at a plateau in their art probably aren't being creative enough with what they already have or don't have somebody capable if showing them how. Variations are key, and it's quite often just a matter of focus. For example, the bunkai for an outside middle block as shown to a novice is strictly defensive - it's just a block. For a more advanced trainee, the very same block turns into a backfist driven into the biceps of the attacker causing muscular trauma. Defense becomes offense (kobo-ichi) all from the same move. Understanding the depth and variety from a select few techniques is far better than a cursory view of too many.

Street Fighting Man

The late Lyle Alzado, the football legend from the 70s, once quipped to an interviewer that he never met a man he didn't want to fight. The same could be said for another legend - one who didn't hone his skills on the gridiron, but initially on the streets of Okinawa. His name was Choki Motobu. Motobu (b. 1871) was not your ordinary karate-ka; he liked to field test his learned abilities in Tsujimachi - Okinawa's infamous red light district, against thugs and anyone else who had the misfortune to cross his path. Because of his reputation as a troublemaker, he resorted to using an assumed name to gain entry into prominent dojos, only to be thrown out once his real identity was learned. He would often pay his tuition with the unlikely offering of awamori (rice liqueur) when he couldn't afford any other means. Money was something he had no real understanding or appreciation for - a common trait for men of Motobu's ilk.

Motobu defeated a European prizefighter in a boxing ring when he was in his fifties, bringing him much popularity, and eventually students. Some of his disciples went on to create their own ryu (feudal term for school), but Motobu himself was never affiliated with any particular style, as he himself was never anyone's disciple - truly a modern day ronin. Motobu's approach to karate flew in the face of the conventional wisdom of the day, and like Sinatra, he did it his way.