Jason, the Boxer

This wasn't supposed to be the next segment, but as I sit here in bed with a sore face and cut up mouth I felt like I had to relay this story to you guys.

To be frank, I'm not a gym person. With the limited amount of time in my schedule, I think my time is better spent training martial arts than just training my body. If I had the time and didn't feel as though Judo practice wasn't already a work out, maybe I would be. There's also something odd about a 5'4" frame supporting a massive frame, but that deals purely with aesthetics. Regardless, after many years of resisting it, I finally went last night to Synergy with my friends. I figured, you know, why not? I might like it.

Walking into this tome of a handful of women in track shorts and sports bras and a lot more men exuding a desire to be more masculine than the man working on the machine next to him, I had mixed feelings. The drive was already made, so I hopped on the most logical machine for a Judoka- the ergometer (or rowing machine). After about a half hour session of that, I decided to do some plyometrics around a medicine ball which kept my cardio going. Eventually, in my quest to avoid actually lifting anything, I came to the punching bags and let loose a couple of roundhouse kicks because that's just what guys do. Big mistake. (Or plot device, whichever you prefer.)

Pretty much out of nowhere a gentleman comes and says "Hey, you've fought before huh? Let me see your stance bro."

Being the pretty cool guy I am, I didn't brush him off and assumed my stance, something I haven't said since I took Karate over a decade ago. Pretty much as soon as got my hands up he shoots a straight right, barehanded with a ring on right into my jaw. He said my stance was all wrong and put in one I could recognize right away. He was a boxer! I was little miffed about being clocked in the chin for no reason, but he quickly apologized. His name was Jason, and for some reason he decided to give me a crash course in boxing for the next 40 or so minutes. Apparently his uncle was a professional boxer and his cousin runs the Gracie Barra school in our town, two claims that I didn't care to verify. What stood before me is a person enthusiastic about teaching, which is just nice to see. This entire gym was watching us spare (watching me get punched in the face several times). I tried not to reveal my martial arts background by grappling, since I wouldn't have learned anything if I did. I took his advice, philosophy, and accidental hits to the face and went home, having not lifted a thing. That said, I don't know if I'll be going back to Synergy!

I think the moral of this short story is, no matter how awkward or random a lesson may be approach it with an open mind. I'm sure as hell not going to become a professional boxer now, but there were definitely snippets of wisdom in our impromptu sparring session. Even if you were taught to do something a different way, play the part of somebody that knows nothing. Afterwards, take the time to think about why that style does what they do, see if it makes sense, and then try to incorporate it into your repertoire.

Thanks for stopping by, you're alright!
-Ben

My Terrible Judo Guy Newaza

Now that I'm back from university I've been practicing at my home dojo which, of course, means I get to see my older brother more often. He got me into Judo when I was little, but he practices BJJ also. Not surprisingly, pretty much every time we roll he berates me for my newaza (lit. "ground technique"). I'll be the first to admit that I totally deserve it! For the decade I was doing Judo before college, I was never challenged to step up my newaza to the same extent I was challenged to step up my tachiwaza (lit. "standing technique"). At this point in my life, as I'm working towards competing at the highest levels I see exactly why this is the case.

In the heart of every modern Judoka there exists the desire to do at one of the following: 1) to be successful in competition 2) to contribute to the success of another person in competition. To cater to different tastes/philosophies there are a handful of tournaments that break away from the IJF's rules, but let's be honest here- the only tournaments that really matter are the ones sanctioned by the IJF. One of the most notable achievements a judoka can have under their belt (so to speak) is to go to the Olympics, and there is absolutely no way to get there that would allow one to circumvent the IJF (for more details about how spots will be allocated for the 2012 Olympics click here). Even if it was possible, the rules at the Olympics are always set in place by the IJF with maybe a couple of minor modifications.

For my non-Judo readers, the big deal with all of this is that for a multitude of reasons, the IJF's rules favor victory by use of throws rather than by submission or pin. That is not to say that people only win by throwing, but the fact that shortly after engaging in newaza (I guess you could call it "wrestling") competitors are stood up to start the fight standing again. Furthermore, a lot of take-downs that have a higher percentage of starting groundwork than ending the point by a throw were banned recently. My main problem with this is that it disadvantages those who have as much of a methodical, patient approach to groundwork as they do to standing technique. The whole turtle-posture to run out the clock as soon as someone hits the mat is probably one of the most disappointing things to see from a high level combatant (well, that and pulling guard from standing).

In spite of what Judo may be popularly perceived as, groundwork is just as big a part of what Judo was intended to be as throwing is. If you look at, say, Sambo or Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, the principles governing their ground techniques are Judo in origin since both Vasili Oshchepkov and Carlos Gracie were taught DIRECTLY by Judoka. Undoubtedly, the rules of a sport's highest competition will dictate what is taught at its lower levels. Because of this, the emphasis in most Judo schools (including my own) is on throwing rather than mat work. To what extent should teachers spend time teaching the traditions of Judo, versus what will work in competitions?

Right now in my Judo journey (which is really more a life journey) I'm trying to improve my mat work. It seems simple enough, but I've basically made the claim that my own dojo does not provide an environment where my newaza will develop to the same extent my tachiwaza has. In my next segment I'll discuss possible solutions and my take on the various mysteries and myths surrounding Judo and its ground technique. I leave you with a counter argument against Judo players being bad at newaza.

Thanks for stopping by! You're alright.
-Ben

Judo is not Food

On Blogspot, there's a little tab that says "Stats" where you can see how many hits you get over any given time frame. The numbers on this number are sad! I got more hits per day on my retired cooking blog than I've gotten over the past month on this one. Someone actually had the gall to e-mail me and tell me to "Stop writing about boring Karate stuff and write about food again! xoxo" While the xoxo provided me with some temporary comfort, I asked "Who does this person think they are?" Their comment seems to imply that I should stop writing about something I care about so I can amuse more people. That's a bit presumptuous isn't it? I don't have an obligation to entertain the masses with this, nor should people feel as though they should be entertained by this. However, I've heard this comment before... why?

My theory is that people like things that make them feel smart. Food blogs are the most popular non-celebrity gossip blogs because everybody eats- you can make something with chicken and a spice and every comment basically reads "Wow I eat chicken too! Why didn't I think of that?" There's a familiarity that people crave because they don't want to feel completely ignorant. (Yes, this is insulting.) But it's why you see some bullshit study on the Yahoo! News feed, like "Eat this! Not that!" pretty much every day. People eat that shit up (pun). I read food blogs too, I'm not saying not to. The problem comes in when people chastise publications that have no relevance to them, as though not putting those cliched articles is a failure of internet media.

I'll relate this apprehension towards unfamiliar things to a real-life example. Two of my very good friends are "athletes" in the sense that play can play 5 or so sports on the D4 high school level. I spent most of my life doing Judo, so I'm even worse that they are. However, when they go out and play football or basketball I join in for the fun of it. It's been this way for the past 7-8 years and I thought it would be fun for a change to take them into a Judo class so they could see what I've been up to the majority of my life. They literally looked at me and said "Hey man, I don't want to even try something I know I'm going to be bad at." To me, that shows a lack of open-mindedness and just a shitty attitude towards trying new things. It could also be a lack of testicles, who knows.

So here's my schtick: Judo is not food. Some people will just never be interested in what I write about, but there are people who are and their opinions matter just as much. Just bare with its existence- if you don't want to read it, don't.

Thanks for stopping by, you're alright! (sarcastic)
-Ben

American Judo Infrastructure

Judo carries this interesting dichotomy of a sport and a martial art. If you've ever read The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Dubois*, this is sort of the same deal as "double-consciousness," where two different labels on a single object prevents that object from fully becoming either of those things. There are perceived aspects of "sport" that are contrary to "martial art" and perceived aspects of "martial art" that are contrary to sport, which is why I believe that Judo has struggled to maintain growth in the United States.

One of the big problems that Judo has in the United States is that it is still perceived as foreign. The mysticism associated with martial arts works against its marketing as a sport for American children, even though it is definitely one. Judo is rarely introduced alongside football, basketball, and baseball when kids go through that try everything phase. Why does this matter? While Judo definitely values its late-bloomers, having a strong base of young competitors is the key to success, both financially and in tournaments. Adults tend to be on and off with practicing, but young practitioners provide a more reliable source of income because of the parents' influence. That doesn't really answer my question, because couldn't we just market towards children? I say, definitely not. At that age, parents want their kids to fit in and kids want to do what their friends are doing. Judo needs to be casually brought in as an option so it seems more "normal." I can say, without a doubt, that doing Judo in lieu of baseball or football has alienated me from my friends. I still feel the effect even as I enter my 20's because they can talk about these sports with each other while the amount of people I can talk Judo to is very limited.

To examine the state of Judo in America more closely, let's isolate ourselves to the United States (obvious), considering Judo to be an American sport that's not living up to its full potential. Can we do that? Judo doesn't exist anywhere except the United States and it's not growing as fast it should be. Well, for one we can see that successful sports in the United States tend to follow this progression: first the lower levels, then the high school level, then the collegiate level, and then the highest level. To clarify this, baseball would be little league/middle school team, high school team, college team, then the MLB. What does Judo have out of these? Judo has a large range of low level up through high school, a poorly developed collegiate system with less than 20 universities being represented, and national competitions. Remember, the Olympics don't count because Judo only exists in America.

How do we make the infrastructure of Judo more like that of other sports? I think the most logical way is from the bottom up. By introducing Judo to children at the same time as other American sports (as I suggested), local clubs will have more attendance. In the best case, the club won't be able to accommodate the wave of youngsters. This will force expansion, and will also justify employing more instructors and charging higher rates for instruction. Even if every town won't have a Judo club, the bigger individual clubs will have enough resources (people) to travel and compete against each other. There is definitely a difference between the distances parents will travel with a team versus just their own child. A team of a few strong players may look great on paper, but having a lot of people of all skill levels attending tournaments contributes more to the feeling of togetherness within a dojo and, in my opinion, is very much the spirit of Judo. If new generations of kids are getting involved every year, naturally the state of the lower levels of Judo will improve.

From there, what happens? Part of the draw of sports in America is that in addition to long-term goals (Major League for Baseball), there also a lot of intermediate goals to look towards (Varsity teams). If the local clubs become strong enough, I actually don't think that it's necessary for Judo to try to penetrate the high schools. Regular competition and engagement with people their own age is enough to keep people interested their whole life. A truly successful Judo program should produce people who, when applying to college, ask themselves "Where's the nearest Judo club to campus?" I grew up with a nice, wholesome grappling experience and when I went off to college I missed it so much that I co-founded Judo Club! Moving back, I mentioned how I thought that NCJA (National Collegiate Judo Association) is underdeveloped.  I think the organization itself is great, but it simply does not have enough participating schools to sustain its activities. A step that I think would be successful in fixing this would be to focus on the big state schools (a lot of which already have small clubs) and offer small scholarships that require a person to be on the Judo club's roster for a year. Okay, so this is the part where money magically appears, but this would turn state schools into centers for Judo. A strong foundation of Alumni needs to be built at in order to support it, just like folkstyle wrestling has, just like football has. These schools also tend to have large gym facilities which provide more locations for intercollegiate competition. There are Judo programs at smaller locations that are drastically underfunded, so they can't afford to travel that far. Funding from a university relates directly to the amount of success a team finds in collegiate competition!

I've gotten kind of scatterbrained with this, but if you're an instructor look at how local sports advertise and emulate it. If you graduated from a college that had a Judo club, reach out to them. If you're in a Judo club at a college, reach out to your alumni. It's important.

Thanks for stopping by, you're alright!

Ben

P.S. If you'd like to hear what the more qualified Jimmy Pedro has to say about this, check out this interview.

Watch more on judoarts.com

*If you've ever read The Souls of Black Folk, you're probably also mad that I simplified it so much. Forgive me.

First Encounter with a Wrestler

Going to a university with limited resources has afforded me the opportunity to casually interact with other grapplers, namely BJJ players and Varsity wrestlers. It might not seem like a big deal, but in the "real world" most time spent on the mat is with people of the same style. Cross-training takes extra time and money, not mention complete respect for the other art and acknowledgment of the shortcomings of one’s one (what a crazy concept, right?). The space/time (not space-time) allocation at Dodge is really tight, so my Judo class starts right after a BJJ class and regularly we run into wrestlers who are curious about the funny white suits. In other words, we get to talk and bounce ideas off of each other without having to take a trip to a foreign dojo or gym. Before this, my experience with other grapplers was at Judo tournaments, where practitioners of a different style were pointed out immediately as though they had just walked into the wrong neighborhood.

When martial artists interact with each other the question of "who's better?" is inevitably raised. As disciplined and mature as people pretend to be about the issue, the fact that Shooto, UFC, and Pancrase attracted so many people shows that people are curious. UFC and other smaller MMA organizations have a disproportionate representation of BJJ and Muay Thai fighters nowadays, but I'll leave the possible causes and implications of that for another post. I think the draw to competitions like this comes simply from people being taught that what they are learning works. No right-minded Sensei or Coach would ever tell their student "Hey man, what I've been teaching you for the past 10 years of your life isn't practical or effective," so over time we all at least sip the Kool-Aid and believe we've got the right answer for how to deal with a strike (for example). Seeing a different style make the same claim challenges what Coach Master Chief Sensei-sama always said, and the natural reaction to want to prove the other style wrong.

Anyway, the matching of Judo vs. folk style wrestling eventually caught up with me. I was challenged by one of my fraternity brothers to a match— he actually descends from a line of collegiate wrestlers. Other brothers were placing bets on the match, face-off pictures were taken, and we all had a good laugh. This match never happened, but I eventually got around to rolling with a friend (a Varsity Wrestler) after finals were over. To clarify here are the rules we used:

• No time limit
• No-Gi
• Best 2 out of 3 matches
• Start standing
• Match ends by 30 second pin or submission
• No striking

I didn't just go around challenging people of other styles to grudge matches, so this was actually my first time rolling with a purebred Wrestler and I'll tell you, it was an experience! I lost by pin the first go and I won the last two by submission, all in all lasting about 10 minutes. By the end of it I was completely exhausted and he seemed fine, which was unnerving. The biggest difference between us besides his 30 pound advantage was that he was much better conditioned than I was. I practice Judo regularly, but I wasn't nearly as quick, explosive, or powerful as he was. Like a twat, I bet him lunch that I'd win all three times so I was paying for my overconfidence!

Over our $20-capped lunch I asked him what his training consisted of and it sounded more like a lifestyle than anything. The team works out early in the morning, wrestles and drills technique, eats together, drinks together... you get the picture. To be honest, I was kind of jealous of this when I started to think of the 3-4 hours a week I spend on Judo. On some level it's understandable since Varsity implies that they commit a big part of their college experience towards wrestling, while Judo at Columbia is only a club sport. So, I took a second and fantasized about what it would be like to be part of a Varsity Judo program. It seemed magical and wonderful, and then I realized that that level of commitment already exists… in Japan. I came across this video:

I don't mean to imply that Americans don't work hard at Judo and never produce strong competitors, because they do. It is, however, a fact that Japan takes home more Olympic gold medal than the United States in spite of its smaller population. This may be my Yankee pride talking, but I refuse to believe that it's due to some fiercely guarded Judo-related secret that the Japanese are keeping from us. Just like my friend was better conditioned than me because he practiced more often than I did, I think that the Japanese are more successful at Judo because they do it more. On pure inspection, it seems like the average American dojo doesn't practice for more than 2-3 hours at a time whereas the various big schools in Japan practice… a lot more time than that. They train more people to a higher level and thus have a higher chance of producing successful international competitors. I don't expect the US to suddenly adopt the Japanese treatment of Judo, but I definitely think there needs to be a change in its infrastructure. My theories on how to improve this, I'll write about next time!

Thanks for stopping by, you're alright!

Ben