A little over a year ago, I was invited to a friend’s house to watch some paid per view MMA fights. I can’t remember who was fighting, much less who won because I’ve never been a fan of MMA. And although the main draw of the evening had been a much anticipated fight, what I remember from that night is the sheer brutality exhibited by both men and women. Now, I have no problem with brutality when it comes to survival. If someone comes into my house in the middle of the night, I will do whatever I can to put them in the morgue…not the hospital. I owe you no restraint or remorse if you come into my home in the middle of the night. Let’s face it, you’re not there to pay me a friendly visit. Chances are, you’ll try to do the same to me. But sanctioned bouts like the ones I watched last year? No thanks. To me, it’s little more than a street fight that ends up in a curb-stomping session.
Clearly, I have little respect for MMA. I’m sure Dana White would care less about my opinion and the sport will continue to flourish. To be fair, I lost my taste for just about all sorts of competition outside of a good game of chess, which I typically lose, or an intense game of Monopoly, which I will ruthlessly win, every time. And if I applied to the same attitude toward chess that I do with Monopoly, I’d be a much better chess player. Here’s why: Even though both are games of conquest, I haven’t spent nearly enough time learning how to end chess games quickly, therefore, my game always starts with setting up a good defense. That’s because I anticipate having to fend off an attack. I don’t understand the game well enough to start on the offensive, nor have I put in the reps. Monopoly, on the other hand, is pretty easy. Buy up everything you can as quick as you can and don’t cut any slack. There’s no defensive moves, just all out (business) survival.
The hard part of educating people on the value of traditional martial arts training is the aspect of ritual vs. survival fighting. Think of a ritual fight like this: Two equally matched opponents, squaring off in a ring or in the cage, hands up, bodies moving. Each contender looking for an opening in the other’s defense. There may be certain rules we agree on, like no gouging the eyes, not hitting the groin, no biting, no weapons. The goal here is to see who’s better, stronger, faster. Who gets the title. And if you’re going to play this game, you’d better put in the time and effort to become very fit and very efficient. You need to study tactics like distance, broken rhythm, antagonism. A component fighter will establish certain combinations that draw the opponent in or get them on the defensive, each leading to an attack. Sounds like chess, doesn’t it? That’s because it is. And everything I just mentioned is exactly the kind of techniques and principles we teach during sparring classes. And by the way, no matter what martial art you practice, sparring is essential, even if it is ritualized as I am suggesting.
I’m going to change gears here and talk about Miyamoto Musashi, Japan’s most famous samurai warrior. It is widely accepted that Musashi killed over 60 men in duels and in combat. To have survived even half that number against swords, spears, daggers and other weapons of the day is astounding. And if you do a little digging into his background, Musashi wasn’t as well trained as you might expect. His father was a master of the jitte, a short truncheon-like weapon with a forked handle for catching swords. But Musashi really didn’t have the formal type of sword training that many of his peers had. In fact, most of his training was, shall we say, “on-the-job,” through actual do or die contests, his first at age 13. He killed several men with nothing more than a heavy stick; he struck down his most fearsome opponent, Sasaki Kojiro with a boat oar. His appearance was nothing samurai-like; hair often dirty and matted, clothes wrinkled and smelly. He made several pilgrimages into the mountains, training and living in the elements often on the point of starvation. You’d think that kind of life would do things to your head and honestly, I think it made him a little crazy. He was well known for being ruthless. And do you want to know his most successful tactic? Do you want to understand how he survived so many life and death situations? He didn’t play by the rules.
That’s right, he was not exactly an honorable human being. Now, he never backed down from a fight, which would have been considered dishonorable. But he never played by the opponent’s rules. He would either show up early or show up late to a scheduled bout. Because he never trained in a specific style, his opponents had a difficult time understanding his fighting method. He would attack when the situation called for defeat. He would hit and run, only to come back and hit again. He was not a ritual fighter; he was a survivalist who lived to be 61 years old - - not bad for a guy who faced death many times. He did die alone in a cave, but that’s another story. Anyway, you can see my point here, can’t you?
I don’t believe in ritualized fighting. Sparring is important for dealing with certain aspects of fighting, but I don’t believe in competition. Whether teaching karate or aikido, I always emphasize going for targets like the throat, the eyes, the groin. I promote low kicks to the shins, knees and groin. I prefer the aikido stance, hamni, when facing an aggressor rather than putting my hands up and letting him know I’m ready to fight. And, if possible, I will always attack first. If I have something nearby I can use as a weapon, even if it’s a rock, that’s what I’m using. I don’t care who’s bigger, stronger or faster. I don’t care whose style is better. I care about getting home. If you train with that kind of attitude and you have a dojo that promotes this attitude, then it really doesn’t matter what martial art you practice. It’s not the techniques, per se…it’s your intention. Don’t think of it as “defending yourself.” Rather, think of it as surviving.
You don’t “defend” yourself against cancer, for example. You avoid a confrontation to the best of your ability but if you have cancer, you do whatever it takes; surgery, chemo, diet, exercise, etc., to survive it. You don’t square off with cancer and challenge it to a duel. Just ask the Marlboro Man.
This is why, if you're serious about martial arts training, it can't be a hobby. It's can't be some interesting way to spend a Tuesday night. If you try to look at in terms of survival rather than self-defense...your prospective may change.
Dave Magliano
Tatsu Dojo
Jissenkan Budo
Dojo Cho
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