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! 

 

 

It has become popular among martial artist’s to equate fighting ability with rank in America today.  This has largely been the attitude of BJJ, and has become a popular idea for a very simple reason – what Black Belt wants others to think anything else?

And while there is certainly a limited amount of correlation between ‘fighting’ ability and rank, it’s not absolute, nor do I think Kano ever intended it to be.  Let’s examine another form of rank which is directly correlatable with ability… and that is in the world of Chess.  In the U.S., every time you play in a chess tournament, your win/loss record is sent to the USCF, and they feed it into a computer (along with the current ratings of your opponents), and it spits out a new rating (rank) every even numbered month.  Can you imagine changing belt colors 6 times a year?

If Jigoro Kano had wanted belt rank to correlate directly with fighting ability, he could have proposed just such a system, for despite the many stories you hear about 60 year old hachidan’s being capable of throwing Sandan’s half their age, it’s true only in randori, not shiai.

So clearly, Kano did not intend rank to be stripped away when you could no longer ‘wipe the floor’ with the young hotshots… after all, someone has to teach, and who wants to be learning from someone they technically outrank? (if rank depended on fighting ability)

Even in BJJ, with the emphasis on Brazilian machismo, I doubt if anyone seriously thinks that Helio Gracie can step on the mat with some teenage Blue belt, and ’school’ him with his undoubted vast experience and knowledge.

Trevor Leggett tells a story of training in Japan, where when doing randori with the head Sensei, it was expected that when he would flick his wrist, you would take a flying ukemi.  The head Sensei was a very old man, although quite highly regarded and ranked.  And if you offered him respect in terms of ukemi – his students, Yondans and Godans, would ensure that you got an excellent few hours of training.  Of course, if you couldn’t offer the head Sensei any respectful ukemi for his ‘wrist flicking’, the Sensei’s students, Yondans and Godans aplenty… would regard it as an illustration that you’d forgotten how to perform proper ukemi – and would then take it upon themselves to remind you how to do so.

The only standard that I would feel it important to insist on is that as the rank grows increasingly higher – the knowledge and ability to pass on that knowledge should also increase.  And surprising no-one in Judo – this is exactly the case in Judo.

An excellent example to point to is Phil Porter (USJA Kudan, USMAA Judan) – who’s about as controversial a Judoka as there is in America.  Many Judoka have had doubts about his rank – and yet, if you’ve ever attended any seminar with him – he’s the one you’ll be reminded of when someone mentions that hoary cliché about someone who “has forgotten more Judo than you’ll ever know.”

I’m sure many Judoka have run across collegiate wrestlers – who can step on a Judo mat for the first time and tie up some poor unfortunate Shodan.  Giving that wrestler his black belt would be understood by most Judoka as being absolutely incorrect.

Judo rank means far more than mere fighting ability – it means the development of character, it means the ability to pass on the traditions & cultural knowledge of Judo.  For as many Black Belts can tell you – they are even more proud of their first student who achieves Shodan than of the time they received their own.

 

 

A recent post on the Judo Forum was discussing the popularity of Judo in America:

Mmm, let me see…Do I sign up to that Judo class where I’m going to get thrown all over the place, strangled nearly to death, my arms locked into painful holds and I am actually going to sweat like a horse every class and then drag myself home in all sorts of pain…?

Or do I sign up with that TKD place down the road, where all they do is learn some fancy kicks and some fancy hand blocks and every couple of months everybody gets a new belt promotion (about fifteen of them) with minimal effort and hardly any sweat at all, and I can get my black belt in about two to three years, as compared to that Judo place where it will take at least seven to ten years…? Wow, what a choice!  (Posted by: ‘Kodokanjudo‘, Sandan)

A brilliant synopsis of the problem facing American Judoka! We aren’t state sponsored like other countries (France comes to mind), nor do we have any cultural aspects that would encourage martial arts – we are, after all, the country that favors the cowboy mentality; knives, pistols, rifles, and all.

Judo in America will always be a word of mouth sort of thing – you need to drag your friends into the class – there’s simply no other way. Giving demonstrations at schools and organizations is another way. Let’s face it, Judo demonstrations can be entertaining, and events are always looking for free entertainment!

There are, however, corresponding advantages that Judoka don’t think about… considering that we are, for the most part, non-profit, we have no particularly great incentive to retain students to pay the rent. So we don’t have to ‘water down‘ the class, we can go as ‘hard & sweaty’ as we want to. We don’t have to ‘coddle’ anyone, you’re there to learn Judo, and the Sensei is there to teach you – not babysit. If we were in the same boat as the strip mall McDojo’s, we’d have to drastically water down Judo in order to pay the bills.

That’s not to say that Judo clubs are all military academies, gruff and uncaring… just that we don’t have any impediments to actually teaching Judo. I’d hate to have to consider the money flow as important as the training – and in Judo, that’s usually not a consideration. So we do have compensating advantages in Judo. But popular, we’ll never be.