We’ve all learned the traditional mantra: Kuzushi, Tsukuri, Kake.  Or, as I commonly consider it in English, Breaking my opponent’s balance, Fitting in for the throw, and the execution of the throw.  We’ve probably all used the example of looking at our “wristwatch”, while executing the kuzushi pull for a forward throw… when teaching.

This three-fold breakdown goes back to the very beginnings of Judo – Jigoro Kano is credited with the discovery of the importance of Kuzushi.  As a 1915 book by Sakujiro Yokoyama puts it:

“Accordingly, victory may be here divided under three principal heads, namely:

(a) Put your opponent into a “broken posture.”
(b) Place yourself in the right posture.
(c) Perform the tricks in the proper manner.

These three are the most important elements for victory.”

So this concept goes all the way back to the earliest expositions of Judo knowledge.  It’s certainly not any recent innovation.   Yet in actual randori or shiai, there is almost never such a three-fold separation.  What actually creates kuzushi at the black belt level, against evenly matched opponents, is tsukuri.

Let me repeat that… what creates kuzushi is tsukuri.  Naturally, correct tsukuri… but it is almost never the pull or push of your hands that does it.  We teach the ideal, but what we practice is what works.  This is why it’s so important at the higher levels of Judo to have the 45 degree ‘angle of attack’ that Gleeson speaks of.  You must be able to exert the maximum amount of power at the moment of the attack – this is what creates the kuzushi you need.

This isn’t to say that it’s the only way to create kuzushi… tempo changes certainly play a role, the ability to control space is another consideration.  And, as all of us know, even the grip can play it’s role too.  I only dispute that it’s only the grip that is what creates kuzushi.

You can see now why I refer to the old “Which came first” riddle – what truly comes first, Kuzushi or Tsukuri?  In the Judo ideal, clearly it would be Kuzushi.  In real life, against a knowledgeable and resisting opponent, the answer is more complex… 

 

 

In boxing, the left jab is used to open up an opponent for the powerhouse right hand.  I like to think that Judo’s ashiwaza serves the same purpose.

Let’s face it, you’re not going to create the sort of kuzushi that you need against a fellow black belt in competition as easily as you can against a white belt… you need to either force or trick him into a mistake.  There are several ways to ‘force’ your opponent into a momentary loss of balance, and ashiwaza is one of the major methods.

While virtually all ashiwaza are favorites of mine, one that I do doesn’t even have a name.  I like to start either Uchimata or Tai Otoshi by using a De Ashi Barai movement with my right foot against Uke’s right foot.  Think about that for a moment… some people might call that Ko Uchi Gari, but I’m not hooking and pulling Uke’s foot forward, as you would in Kouchi, I’m slapping it to my left, in exactly the same movement as De Ashi Barai.  There’s no intent, indeed, not even the possibility of throwing Uke with such a movement… but it does set up a situation where Uke has to regain his balance.  Give this a try, see what you think.

Ashiwaza as a primary throwing technique doesn’t really come into it’s own until the person applying it has been doing Judo for 20 or 30 years… the timing involved is quite complex, and not easily grasped.  But used in the same manner as the boxer’s jab, and used only to create balance problems for your opponent, it can be a valuable weapon for any Judo competitor…

During your next practice, try to add a foot sweep as the lead in for your favorite throw, and see how it works.

 

 

Those who know me know that although I’m right-handed, I prefer fighting left-handed.  There are a number of reasons for this – one of the major reasons being that most people don’t know how to handle “lefty’s”.

But I thought I’d comment on a similarity between my favored grip, and Boxing.  If you have any familiarity with Boxing, you know that right-handed boxers put their weak left hand forward, and their ‘power hitting’ right hand is back.  Thus, their weaker hand is used for “opening up” their opponent – so that their stronger hand can deliver punishing blows.

I think that for a right-handed person to change to a left grip is going to have much in common with Boxing – as far as using the appropriate hand for the appropriate task.  What do we do in a right-handed grip?  We take our weakest hand, and force it to do the most work – pulling uke (on forward throws).  Our strongest hand, meanwhile, isn’t doing much more than providing contact between our body, and Uke’s body…

Doesn’t it make more sense to pull with your strong right hand, and let your weaker left hand operate as the contact point between your body and Uke’s body?  In my opinion, it does.  Give it a try…

The only problem for most people is that since they don’t practice their throws to the left side, it’s going to be very awkward; they’ll be going back in time to when they were first learning their throws.  But just note the pull that you get to the left side, and see if switching to the left from time to time might improve your Judo skills…

 

 

Hayward Nishioka has a wonderful book for competitors entitled “Judo, Heart & Soul”.  In it, he has a tremendous amount of good material for those who wish to improve their shiai ability.  He labels them as 10 things for staying ahead of the game, and I’d like to quote them here:

1. Be in exemplary cardiovascular condition.

2. Have a technique-oriented mindset.

3. Be able to attack from any angle, anytime, with any technique.

4. Truncate the time of attack.  In other words, as soon as you grip – attack!

5. Do one-handed Judo.

6. Understand the rules and use them to your advantage.

7. Study gripping techniques, especially how to release your opponent’s grip.

8. Make quick transitions from your standing techniques to your mat.  The longer you wait to enter your mat techniques, the more difficult it will be to get them.

9. Be able to plan, execute and evaluate your progress in Judo.

10. Be tenacious.

A comment on #3 – I would add that you need to be able to attack both right and left-handed… although Nishioka’s #3 certainly implies this.

“One-handed Judo” means being able to attack with only a single hand gripping.  This is a very key ability these days, where top-flight competitors aren’t willing to allow you to take a normal grip.  A favorite of mine was Hiki Otoshi… taking the sleeve grip (which is usually given you – as opposed to the lapel grip) with my left hand, then turning in to my opponent in a Tai Otoshi type of stance, and bringing my right forearm down on my opponent’s elbow (of the arm I’m gripping.)

If you are a dedicated competitor – be sure to pick up this book, it’s outstanding in it’s coverage of competition Judo.

 

 

When I began Judo, getting close to 40 years ago now… most Judo clubs spent no more than 10-20% of their time on Newaza. But even back then, Olympic and International competitors felt the need for greater training in Newaza, and often worked on adding to their skill on the mat. Anton Geesink, in his autobiographical book on Judo, mentions his desire to gain better and more skillful Newaza.

When I trained at San Jose State – which at the time had won 17 straight Collegiate titles for their Judo Team, we spent perhaps 90% of our time in Newaza, and the other 10% in Tachiwaza. Granted, we were, for the most part, all black belts, and already had throwing skills. But it was clear that the skill that needed polishing was our matwork.

Today, with the publicity that BJJ has given the martial arts world, I’ve seen clubs boost their Newaza time, and I think that it’s about time. For ever since I trained with San Jose, I’ve been of the opinion that Newaza should account for no less than 50% of the time that randori is practiced. Others may fudge the percentages a tad, say 30%, or 40%; but ground skills are just as necessary as throwing skills.

I think most Judoka realize that if they are afraid of Newaza, that their throwing ability will be affected. Who wants to dive in on a throw if they are afraid that if they don’t get Ippon for the throw, that they’ll be pinned for the score? The more comfortable you are on the mat, the more relaxed your throwing skills will become – since you’ll never be concerned that you might end up in a bad position on the mat.

Another advantage for instructors, is that beginners can’t start right in with Tachiwaza, they need to be comfortable with ukemi first – but the only thing beginners need for Newaza is to learn not to bite, stick fingers in the eyes, grab the hair, or stand up.  And, of course, how to tap.  You can teach a beginner everything he needs to begin Newaza randori in 10 minutes or less.

My own opinion – 30% is the absolute minimum randori time that should be devoted to Newaza, and 50-60% is the optimum.

 

A common problem that many Judoka have is that they don’t realize that their Judo must change depending on their opponent.  You must adjust your tempo to who you are facing.

If you are a big guy, and you are facing ‘Speedy Gonzalez’, who is dancing around you – he is doing precisely what he should be doing… using his speed to counteract your greater strength.  By the same token, you should be ‘rooting’ yourself in one spot, and using your greater strength to offset Speedy’s greater speed.

Of course, should the opposite situation occur, you must reverse your strategy.  I’m a relatively big guy, but I once entered the open weight category because I had students of mine in my regular weight class – so every single opponent was bigger than I.  And knowing the trick, I immediately went into “speedster” mode, and tried forcing my opponents to move faster than they were used to.  I ended up with a second place trophy, yet every single opponent had me out-weighed by 20-30 pounds or more.

Keep this in mind as you do randori or compete – and decide whether you’re going to stay in one spot, or move like the wind…

None of this applies, of course, if you’re facing someone that is of relatively the same weight, strength, and speed.  Then you can merely act and react normally.  But being able to change tempo is a great skill that most International and Olympic Judoka have, and you should consciously develop it yourself.  And against someone of your own weight class – changing tempo in a random fashion is a tactic that few Judoka are prepared to deal with… so give it a try!

 

My original Sensei, George Hamm, came to both my Junior High School, and our rival Junior High School in the area, and performed Judo demonstrations. Although I’d been interested in Judo before this point, this was my introduction to the Hueneme High School Judo Club – where I trained from white belt to Ikkyu.

We had rather intense competition between the students that came from Blackstock Junior HS. versus the students that came from E.O. Green Junior HS. At the very top, it very quickly evolved into a competition between just two people, me and Jim Robertson. We went neck and neck in each of the club shiai, first I’d win one, and then he’d win one.

But this is just the background… for Jim was the perfect defensive Judoka, and all I ever did was attack. There were times that I just hated to begin a throw on Jim – as I just knew I was going to get countered and slammed hard to the mat. I’ll have to credit Jim with my waza – since I had to learn how to attack without being countered. To this day, you’re not going to counter my Ouchigari – Jim taught me too well! (hint – the trick is putting your head on the opposite side of uke’s body to the leg you’re attacking)

But Jim always had to wait to see what his opponent offered him. Since he virtually never initiated an attack – he needed to wait and hope that he could counter what his opponent did. And he did it well – he placed in the High School Nationals with his defensive Judo skills.

Meanwhile, I played the attacking game, and was always on the offensive – always at least feinting with De Ashi Barai, and looking for the openings. I used a wider variety of Judo than Jim did – his main specialty was Ura nage or Tani Otoshi. I’m convinced that my style of Judo was better in the long run, although it’s hard to tell at this stage – Jim stopped practicing Judo not too long after reaching Shodan.

But the concept behind either attacking or defensive Judo can be revealing… a defensive player is determined not to lose, while an attacking player wants to win. And sometimes, it’s differences as small as this – the idea behind the decisions of what Judo skills to emphasize – that can make tremendous differences in ultimate skill. When you look at International and Olympic Judoka, can you think of anyone that can be considered a ‘defensive’ player?

It’s this fundamental difference in the concept behind Attacking Judo vs Defensive (or ‘Counterplay’) Judo that makes all the difference in the world.  For your attitude about Judo will move into the rest of your character and the way you treat life… and rather than reacting to what happens, it’s my opinion that it’s better to make things happen.

And while it’s certainly important to learn how to react to your opponent’s attacks, it’s more important to learn how to force the play.  That’s my opinion, anyway!