I know why people love to have seats right by the sidelines of a sporting event. It is not so much that you get the best view, although that may be part of it. It is much more about feeling so close to the action that you are almost a part of it. The adrenalin rush you get as a competitor cannot be matched by spectators, but when you are right next to the action it comes pretty close. The only people who were closer to the action than us were the referees and judges. I was itching to get out on the mat and take part. I spent the next couple of hours completely engrossed in the competition.
I had noticed that Tanaka Masahiko Sensei was sitting at the head organisers’ table on the other side of the arena. Sensei Stan Schmidt had told me that if I got a chance to meet Tanaka Sensei I should introduce myself and tell him that I was a friend of Sensei Stan. I debated with myself as to whether to go and speak with him, and in the end I decided I was more afraid of telling Sensei Stan that I had the opportunity but passed it up, than I was of interrupting Tanaka Sensei. So I worked my way around the arena and over to the table, bowed deeply and introduced myself to Tanaka Sensei as a student of Kanazawa Sensei and a friend of Sensei Stan. He immediately excused himself from the table and took me for a coffee. We chatted about my visit the previous year to South Africa, and he told me stories about his many visits there. We talked about Ireland, and he talked about his respect for Kanazawa Sensei. Before he returned to his work at the championships, he even invited me to come and train at the JKA Honbu Dojo, but I had to explain that I was leaving in a couple of days, but that maybe on a future visit I would get there.
I had time for just one more visit to the Honbu Dojo before going home. I was glad to be able to thank Murakami Sensei for the VIP treatment I had received from the JKA. He just grinned and told me he had some friends there. I soaked up the atmosphere in the dojo, knowing that it would be my last visit on this trip, but vowing to return again as soon as possible.
I had immersed myself in karate for a month, and squeezed in some sightseeing and Japanese culture, and I had enjoyed every minute. Most importantly, I felt that it had made a big difference in my karate.
19. GASSHUKU
We began to conduct our own annual summer gasshuku at my dojo. Sensei Ray and Garry always came along to train and teach with me on these weekends. Garry is an accomplished instructor in his own right. Being a Garda (police officer), his expertise is in self-defence, as well as control and restraint techniques. Everyone always looked forward to his classes, as they were always packed with solid, practical techniques and common sense.
We started on Friday evening with three hours of hard karate training. I used to make the training on the first evening so difficult that everyone, including me, struggled to get out of bed on Saturday morning! Then we started at 7am with a run. The run was split into three groups: one for children, with games such as leap-frog and piggy-backs along the way; one for unfit adults – about one mile; and one for fitter adults – about three miles. After the run we always had a T’ai Chi class, and then a break for breakfast. After breakfast we had our first karate class of the day. Then Garry taught a self-defence class before lunch. After lunch we had another tough karate class and always finished the day with a light session. Sunday morning followed the same format, but in the afternoon we held grading examinations.
The gasshuku were always very difficult, and people really struggled with different aspects of it. Some people loved the hard classes but hated the T’ai Chi. Some liked running, while others hated it. I remember one occasion in particular where one of my adult ladies struggled with the run. She was a purple belt, and mother of two small children, but she was somewhat overweight. She was in the ‘unfit’ group, but really couldn’t run at all. She ended up having to walk most of the one-mile course.
She vented her frustration at me initially, saying that I had humiliated her, but really she knew that her fitness was her own responsibility. She apologised to me later, but publicly vowed that she would never let that happen again. She joined a running club, fuelled by the memory of what she saw as humiliation, and fourteen months later she ran Dublin City Marathon in just over four hours. She became extremely fit and lost all the excess weight. She ended up deciding that she preferred running to karate, and continued running marathons. Although the run on our gasshuku was a negative experience for her, something very positive came out of it in the end, and I have always been very proud of her achievements.
20. 3RD DAN
After my return from Japan it was time to start to really focus on my 3rd Dan examination. I knew the training the previous year in South Africa, and more recently in Japan, would be of benefit to me now.
I chose a kata that I didn’t like very much: Ji’in. I figured that I had chosen an easier kata for my 2nd Dan, so I would work on a kata that I found more difficult this time. I used to go to the dojo an hour before classes were due to start, in order to get my basics and kata training done. Then I would teach two classes, and do some sparring with the senior students to prepare me further. As always, Garry was a big help to me in the months leading up to my grading. We trained hard together, pushing and encouraging each other to be the best that we could be. It was as though my enthusiasm fuelled his and his enthusiasm fuelled mine. Together we generated a great atmosphere in the dojo for everyone else.
I trained in every class, including a couple of T’ai Chi classes, during the seminar with Kanazawa Sensei leading up to the grading examination. On the Saturday afternoon, Kanazawa Sensei decided that he wanted to see some demonstration fights, so Sensei Ray was asked to pick two teams of five to fight each other.
By coincidence, my old friend and rival, Adrian, was beside me on one team. I was all fired up for my examination the next day, but I was anxious that I might get injured in the demonstration fights and not be able to grade. I whispered my concern to Adrian, but he reminded me that we only take one step at a time, and not to worry about the grading until the morning. He was right, of course, so I put the concerns out of my mind and out I went to fight. We had two fights each, and I won both of mine. In the second one, my opponent smacked me on the mouth and split my lip, so I hit him straight back and split his. Sensei Ray, who was refereeing, shouted at us both to have control, but I stole a glance at Kanazawa Sensei, who was smiling and nodding. ‘You touch, I touch,’ I heard Sensei Stan’s voice in my head. Sometimes you have to show that you can take it and also give it. There was no real malice from either of us, and we shook hands afterwards.
When I returned to the line-up after winning my second fight, Adrian turned to me.
‘Now who is grading tomorrow?’ he whispered, and I knew he had helped me keep my focus that day. The fighting certainly was a good warm-up for the grading.
The next morning I was psyched up for the examination. As I looked around, I could see that there were quite a few testing for 1st Dan, seven testing for 2nd Dan, and one for 4th Dan. I was the only one testing for 3rd Dan. I wasn’t particularly worried about the basics or kata, but 3rd Dan is sometimes called ‘fighting grade’, and I wanted to make sure that I did well in that section. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was pacing up and down the edge of the dojo, eyeing up all the other students. It was only when someone showed me a video recording afterwards that I realised that I had been sizing each of them up to work out how I would beat them.
When I was first called out onto the floor it was for the basics. My legs wobbled a little in the first stance from nerves and adrenalin, but I settled into it and thought I did ok. Again, it was only later that I could see that the kicking combinations Kanazawa Sensei had told me to do relaxed the first time and then with speed and power afterwards were all done at the same pace. It had seemed like speed and power at the time, but nerves have a big impact on performance. The kata section went well. I was pleased that I had selected a kata that was not naturally easy for me.
Then I waited my turn for kumite. All the 1st Dan candidates went out. It took quite a while, because th
ere were about four groups of them. Then the 2nd Dan candidates were called. I expected that they would get one or two fights against each other, and that I would then have to fight each of them, because there was no-one else grading for 3rd Dan. I was closely watching each of them as they fought, preparing myself for my turn.
I expected to be called after the 2nd Dan candidates had finished, but instead the 4th Dan candidate was called out. ‘Ok,’ I thought, ‘maybe I will have to fight him.’ I was surprised though, because he was well over forty, and I hadn’t expected him to have to fight. As it turned out, he didn’t: he was asked to demonstrate bunkai (applications) from his kata. He explained the applications first, and then demonstrated them, using me as the attacker. After this, Kanazawa Sensei went through the paperwork, and then announced the examination was finished. I started panicking.
‘I got no kumite.’ I turned to Sensei Ray, who was standing beside me. I tried to get the attention of the Irish senior grade that was assisting Kanazawa Sensei at the table. ‘No kumite,’ I mouthed at him, but he just shook his head at me, as if to tell me to say nothing. I didn’t want to keep quiet. I was afraid that Kanazawa Sensei would realise afterwards that I had not done my kumite section, and that he would tell me I would have to do it the next time he came over. But more than that, I wanted to do my kumite. I wanted to earn my grade properly. Even as we lined up to bow to signify the end of the examination, I kept repeating ‘No kumite’ to anyone within earshot. At this stage I must have sounded like a broken record, constantly repeating the same two words.
Kanazawa Sensei said that he would announce the results after the Kyu grade examinations, and as soon as I got a chance I went over to the senior grade that had been assisting him at the table. ‘He forgot my kumite,’ I blurted out.
‘No he didn’t,’ was the reply. ‘He told me at the table that he saw you fight yesterday, and that this was enough for you to pass. He said that you might be too strong for the other candidates today. You did a good grading.’
What he meant, of course, was that I was too wound up, and my fighting might not have been properly controlled. When I saw the video afterwards, and saw how I was pacing up and down, I realised that he may have been right, but I felt deflated nonetheless. I had trained hard for the grading, and I wanted to pass it properly. Later that day, when he announced that I had passed, I still felt that I had not earned it. In fact, for a long time I felt that I had only received an honorary 3rd Dan, because I did not have to fight. It was quite an anticlimax.
Some years later I reminded Kanazawa Sensei of that examination, and that I felt bad because I did not fight. He laughed and told me that he felt the same way for his 4th Dan examination, because Nakayama Sensei would not let him and Mikami Sensei fight together for their grade. It was just after their famous fight at the All-Japan championships, where they were jointly awarded the title of champion because the final resulted in a draw even after several extensions.
21. FRUSTRATION
It wasn’t all good times and fun. Garry got a transfer down to Cork, and so moved back to his home town of Midleton. Having been my right-hand-man for so long, his absence left a void at Shin-Do-Kan. I had been able to rely on him to help out with classes, and I never really appreciated how much pressure he took off me as a young and inexperienced instructor until after he had left.
Most of the other senior grades didn’t take much interest in filling the gap when Garry left. While some of them were reliable enough to turn up to class, others seemed to come and go as they pleased. I was left to organise the classes and all the administration that goes with running a dojo. I taught the classes, and it became a big deal if I needed someone to cover for me occasionally. I even had to organise any social events by myself, while everyone else just showed up and had a good time.
I became completely frustrated by it all. It wasn’t as though I was making any money from the club. In fact, I was subsidising the running costs out of my own pocket. I was giving the students my time and whatever knowledge I had to the best of my ability. It seemed to be all take, take, take, with nothing coming back from the other side.
One night I returned home after class, having been let down yet again by the seniors. I took my black belt out of my bag and I threw it across the room, announcing that I was quitting. In my frustration and anger I said I was not only giving up the club, but I was quitting karate completely.
The belt stayed on the floor for two days. One of the senior students tried to call me, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk. Eventually I spoke to Sensei Ray and to Sensei Stan Schmidt. Between them, they managed to calm me down and gave me good advice. Sensei Stan in particular told me that if I quit, then it would be because my spirit was weak. He said that I could not expect the students to have the same level of dedication as me. It was simply not reasonable. But he also said that if the students were not dedicated, then perhaps their spirit was weak, but if I let that defeat me also then their weak spirit was weakening mine too. He said the only way to beat weak spirit is with strong spirit. Then he asked me how much I got paid to teach.
‘Nothing!’ I exclaimed, almost offended that he should even ask.
‘That’s part of your problem,’ he said calmly. ‘You should be being paid to teach. Your time and knowledge is valuable, but if you don’t value it, why should the students?’
I let that sink in for a while. I had always resisted making any money from teaching karate, wanting to be a purist. I could see his point of view though, and I definitely knew he was right about needing to keep my spirit strong, and about expecting too much from the students.
We held a meeting at the dojo, and I explained my issues to the students. We agreed on some changes, and I received better support from everyone. I still didn’t take payment from the dojo, but at least I didn’t feel that I had to do everything for everyone any more.
22. KANAZAWA SENSEI AT SEVENTY
When Kanazawa Sensei turned seventy I asked him if I could interview him for Shotokan Karate Magazine. He stared at me for a few seconds, and it felt like he was looking inside my head. Then he nodded, and told me that someone else had asked to interview him, but he hadn’t felt they would do a good job and so he had politely declined. He said that he knew I would do a good job. What was made to sound like a compliment was really a subtle way of telling me that I better do a good job!
We did the interview over lunch in a hotel lounge one day after training. I had previously been given the very good advice not to interrupt Kanazawa Sensei while he is talking, because he can come up with amazing stories and wisdom when he is allowed to get into a flow. So I had a list of questions and topics that I wanted to cover, but I used them as conversation starters, and allowed him to talk about whatever he liked, and recorded everything with my little voice-recorder. I only moved on to the next ‘pointer’ when he stopped talking.
We spent about two hours there, and I only wished it could have been longer, but we had to get ready to go training again. He gave an incredible interview though, the highlight for me being when he stood up and told me to punch him in the stomach. He wanted to demonstrate the difference between internal and external power. So I nervously threw my fist at him, wondering to myself how many people could say they successfully punched Kanazawa Sensei in the stomach. As I expected, my punch bounced off his solid abdominal muscles. This was no big deal – any good karate-ka will have solid muscles and be able to take a punch there.
‘This is external power,’ Kanazawa Sensei explained.
Then he told me to punch him again. This time, my punch sank into his belly. It seemed to almost go through him and all the way back to his spine while he just stood there grinning. He absorbed my strike completely. Then he simply contracted his muscles and repelled my fist back out again. It was a very strange sensation.
‘This is internal power,’ he stated, sitting back down and talking more about the differences between karate and T’ai Chi, and why he feels it is important to study bo
th. I have been lucky enough to have conducted some good interviews with great instructors, but this interview is the one of which I am proudest.
Later that month Kanazawa Sensei was teaching at a big open seminar in Romford, England, to celebrate his seventieth birthday, so I went over to train. Murakami Sensei was also teaching there with him. There were about two hundred black belts, plus probably another hundred kyu grades training.
The classes were split, with Kanazawa Sensei taking the black belts in the morning, while Murakami Sensei took the kyu grades, and then they switched groups in the afternoon. It seemed that whenever either of them was teaching our group and they wanted someone to assist with a demonstration, they selected me. On one occasion Kanazawa Sensei demonstrated Gankaku-Sho in its entirety, and then had me attack him to demonstrate the bunkai of the whole kata. On another occasion, Murakami Sensei was demonstrating some kumite techniques with me, and hit me with an elbow to the back and then swung around with another elbow to the chest. He caught me so solidly that the thud could be heard around the hall, and several people gasped. Even Murakami Sensei glanced at my face to see if I was ok. I wasn’t – the strike was still reverberating through my body – but my face didn’t show it. I saw a hint of a smile from Murakami Sensei in acknowledgment, and we carried on with the rest of his demonstration.
There was a big party that night in honour of Kanazawa Sensei’s birthday. I gave him some Irish whiskey and a crystal decanter, which I was delighted to see some years later in his house in Tokyo. During the party, a large birthday cake was produced. A Scottish instructor was there in his full kilt regalia, and for the cake cutting he ceremoniously handed Kanazawa Sensei his sgian dubh (black knife), which is worn on the leg, tucked into the sock. It is an important part of the outfit, and the significance of him handing over this precious item to Kanazawa Sensei was not lost on me. A Scotsman only ever hands over his sgian dubh as a sign of true friendship and trust. I was even more impressed when, after Kanazawa Sensei had carefully cleaned the knife when the cake was cut, the Scotsman refused to take it back from the master, instead telling him that it was a gift.
A Karate Story Page 10