Feet, more correctly, your opponent’s feet, are apparently the most fascinating objects in all of Judo.  During every practice, I can look around at Judoka doing randori, and they are all, almost to a man, looking down at their opponent’s feet.

What is the fascination with feet?  Do we wonder if our opponent has properly clipped his toenails – prior to being attacked with De Ashi Barai?  Do we suspect that our opponent might be going somewhere – and we need to watch his feet to make that determination?

In all the years of Judo that I’ve done, I’ve convinced myself of one fact beyond any dispute… my opponent’s feet are below his body.  In fact, I frequently use various ashiwaza – as I’m getting too old and tired to throw with spectacular throws anymore – and prefer the small and effortless throws… and although I virtually never glance downward … my foot invariably contacts my opponent’s foot in just the right place.

I could begin explaining to others that my mystical insight and psychic powers have developed as I’ve trained through my black belt ranks… allowing me to accurately know where my opponent’s foot is… or I could be honest, and simply admit that I never can seem to find my opponent’s foot other than underneath him.

In the Marine Corps, we used to have a ‘running chant’ that had the verse: “Ain’t no sense in looking down, ain’t no beer can on the ground…”  In Judo, I’ll argue the same thing… Ain’t no sense in looking down, your opponents feet are still on the ground.

In looking down you also destroy the perfectly upright balance that you should have for rapid speed of movement.  One of my favorite thoughts about Judo is that we should always strive to help our opponent.  If he’s got his head down – we should immediately reach over his shoulder, and help him put his head where he so clearly wants it.  (Hikkomi Gaeshi seems to work nicely here…)

But what we shouldn’t do is help our opponent by staring at his feet – for the only help we’re offering is a weakness in our posture that will make it easy to throw us.  Try locking your eyeballs right into your opponent’s eyes – and see if your techniques still continue to work just fine… I suspect they will…

 

While recently browsing Martial Art blogs, I ran across this little gem:

Japanese Judo was the first Martial art to have a colored belt ranking system. Students progress to a higher rank by taking graded examinations. If a score is high enough the next color in the rank of belts will be earned. The color order of the belts depends on the school but most belts begin at the white belt and end with a black belt. There are different degrees of black belt in case one wishes to extend there training. The history of the lighter to darker colored belts is that the belt is getting dirtier over time. The standard colored system is white, yellow, green, brown and then black. It takes at least three years of continues training to obtain a black belt.

While it’s certainly not the first time I’ve run across this factoid, I’m quite sure it won’t be the last. I’m not really sure just where this silly idea first took hold, but it was certainly not from within a Japanese art or historical framework. You’ve heard the phrase “cleanliness is next to Godliness?” – well, the Japanese have raised cleanliness to a fine art. In fact, it wouldn’t be far from the truth to state that the Japanese, as a culture, have an almost fanatical obsession with being clean.

So it becomes simply nonsensical to suggest that Jigoro Kano was thinking of a colored belt system, in which dirt was involved in any way whatsoever. But this bit of nonsense continues to be passed along to the next generation of martial students.

All martial art systems are heavily influenced by the culture they come from… the language used, the courtesies followed, and so forth – and students of Japanese arts should never confuse ‘black belt’ with ‘dirty belt’…

 

In most dojos I’ve trained at, the normal protocol is something like this:

• Warmup Exercises
• Ukemi Practice
• Uchikomi
• Randori
• Newaza

And although specific times naturally vary from club to club, it’s randori that will get 70% of the class time, and newaza often gets just 10-30%.

Is there a way to get more practice, and better practice, in the same amount of time?  I’d like to suggest a slightly different routine…

Instead of a heavy warmup routine – why not replace it with a light warmup that concentrates on flexibility … practice ukemi, and then go right into newaza?

This allows you to maximize your actual Judo training, for your newaza will take the place of a more rigorous warmup, and prepare you far better for tachiwaza.

By doing newaza during the first part of the class, you accomplish two things – a better warmup (and thus, less possibility of injury), and better tachiwaza.

The major problem with tachiwaza, as I think most Judoka will agree, is the overuse of strength at the expense of technique.  But by doing newaza drills and randori first – when it’s time to work on standup – everyone will be at least slightly exhausted, and won’t have the excessive strength to throw around (so to speak…)

Another advantage is that beginners – even first-time visitors, can practice newaza with just a few words of instruction – something that isn’t easy with tachiwaza.  So beginners can immediately start learning things that they can do easily – which isn’t quite as true with throws.  The possibilities for injuries are also far less with newaza, no fear that beginning students haven’t learned good enough ukemi!

By structuring the class beginning with the relatively easier newaza – and only then moving into the more difficult tachiwaza, you enforce a natural progression of easy to difficult.  But far more importantly – the strength factor makes this particular order work really well.. For it isn’t in newaza that we have to fear using too much strength – and doing newaza only at the end of a long class of standup randori doesn’t give the same benefits as reversing the order.

Most sensei are pretty set in their ways, tradition, after all, is an important part of the martial arts…  but if you’d like to ‘mix it up’ once in a while, give this a try, you might like it.

 

How many Judoka think that randori & shiai are basically the same thing? Many people practice their randori in a manner that can only be differentiated from shiai by the lack of a referee.  And I must confess, for many years I did the same thing. I fought every opponent in randori as if I were trying to win my division at some regional tournament.  But is this the best way to improve your Judo skills?

The only way to improve a given skill is to actually do a given skill – the more frequently you do it, the better you will be able to perform it.  For just like driving, you want your Judo to be instinctive and automatic.

To enforce the sort of randori that should be more common, I suggest that sensei call for ‘exchange’ randori – each throw will be alternated with your opponent getting a turn to throw you.  Set the level of resistance to 50% or less, and see if your Judo doesn’t improve!

Ironically, the more advanced you are, the more actual training you can get – because as a Sandan, I can get lots of throwing practice in on white belts & brown belts… and I generally have many different uke’s that I can train with. The same isn’t true for white belts – where their technique isn’t good enough to get lots of throws in against other white belts – this is where ‘exchange’ randori can really benefit the class.

Although there’s a time and place for ‘hard’ randori, it’s not at each and every practice session.  For many Judoka, several times a month would be more than sufficient to be ready for the next shiai.

 

The American Heritage Dictionary defines ‘Bilateral’ as:

1. Having or formed of two sides; two-sided.
2. Affecting or undertaken by two sides equally; binding on both parties: a bilateral agreement; bilateral negotiations.
3. Relating to the right and left sides of the body or of a body structure.
4. Having or marked by bilateral symmetry.

I made a remarkable discovery rather early in my Judo training, and it was purely by accident. As an Ikkyu, I’d discovered a liking for Sode Tsuri Komi Goshi, a throw in which you can take a right-handed grip, yet throw to the left side. I developed this throw just in time to compete at my first All Marine Corps Judo Tournament… I was a Lance Corporal, as I recall, and many of my opponents held higher ranks, in both the Marine Corps and in Judo. Yet I came out with a 1^st place trophy, enough points to receive my Shodan, and a wonderful insight into the possibilities of doing Judo to both sides.

Years later, I spent some time in an Aikido dojo, and they had this strange idea of practicing all techniques to both directions, alternating right side with left side each time. The Aikidoka doesn’t care which arm you grab, he’s going to execute the same technique to either side with apparently equal precision and power. What a wonderful idea!

Discover just how powerful this idea is – try practicing your techniques to both sides, and you might be surprised at how often you can surprise your partners, who simply aren’t prepared to deal with attacks from both directions.

Particularly powerful, in my mind, are techniques executed to the left, from a right-handed grip.  You will generally lose a wee bit of control, since you are ‘directing’ the throw with a lapel grip rather than a sleeve grip – but the unexpected nature and power will more than compensate.  Give it a try!

 

I’m often fascinated by the number of Judoka who complain about BJJ rules – and the number of BJJ’er who complain about Judo rules…

Judoka: BJJ doesn’t give enough points to effective throws and/or takedowns.

BJJ’ers: Judo doesn’t allow enough time on the mat for an effective ground game.

But as I see it, Chess has entirely forgotten the use of a .45 in settling the winner of the game. (Yeah, I think I saw a few of you raise your eyebrows at that comment!) Rules define what sport, game, activity you’re engaged in. Take the rules of Judo… make a few judicious changes, and what do you have? BJJ, of course. And visa versa.

There’s enough problems with the rules without trying to match them to what other sports are using. Judoka should be concerned with the rules of Judo, not BJJ; and likewise with BJJ’ers.

BJJ’ers can do very well in Judo tournaments – if they learn Judo. Ditto with Judoka who wish to learn BJJ to enter BJJ tournaments. But don’t give excuses for not winning a BJJ tournament if you’re a Judoka with superb throwing skills, and a so-so ground game.

The rules of Judo have evolved in ways that aren’t entirely perfect, although I grant that no matter what set of rules you use, you’re bound to disappoint someone. How many people realize that Judo used to use a ‘best out of three’ Ippons in competition? And think about this for a moment, do you think you’d improve the attacking aspects of Judo should we re-adopt such a rule? Judoka wouldn’t be afraid of using Yoko Guruma as a counter-attack anymore – and would be willing to take more risk with attacking. Think too, of the spectator response – you’d have far more exciting matches… instead of the tremendously defensive matches, you’d have exciting and active attack, with beautiful throws.

Yoko Guruma is one beautiful throw (and one that illustrates underlying principles of Judo so perfectly!) that has virtually disappeared in competition because of the rules… for even if you do it perfectly, a referee who was out of position could call the score against you – and with a single Ippon being the measure of winning or defeat, this throw is simply too dangerous for Judoka who want to win to use…

Other changes in the rules that backfired was when ‘Kinsa’ (minor advantages) was moved from the referee’s mind, to the scoreboard. Judoka would note that they were winning by a koka, then merely try to ’sit’ on that score… so the next evolution in rules had to take place – ‘Non-combativity’ rules… which, of course, provoked Judoka into creating attacks that didn’t provide openings for counter-attacks… so we had to move to the next rule: ‘False Attacks’.

This whole sequence could have been avoided by moving Kinsa back where it belongs… in the referee’s mind. Penalty rules, too, have gotten to the point where many matches are decided not on good Judo – but on arbitrary penalties. Let Judo skills decide the winner – not our concept of what a match is supposed to look like.

But perhaps I merely long for the good ole days?