There are some Judoka who have taken the position that the Olympics, and other international competition that are related – was never Jigoro Kano’s ideal, and is fundamentally undermining Kano’s concept of what Judo was to be.

This is the same crowd that often denigrates the use of strength in Judo.  Both concepts, of course, are simply wrong.

The annual ‘Red & White” competition held by the Kodokan is one of the longest running competitions held in the world.  Judoka forget that it was once a requirement for Judoka to compete – or, if injured, to at least attend.  It’s also just a tad hard to miss the fact that it was Jigoro Kano who was pushing to get Judo admitted to the Olympics in the first place.

The speculation that Kano would have been disappointed is simply another way to say that he was wrong when he made the decision to attempt to place Judo as an Olympic sport.  My opinion is probably obvious – Kano was absolutely correct … the exposure that Judo gets as an Olympic sport is fantastic.

Some Judoka might not understand exactly what you get out of competition.  Martial training has always been at a loss to duplicate precisely the rush of emotion and circumstances that occur when suddenly facing a necessity to defend your life.  Judo is no exception… it is, after all; a martial art with which you can defend your life if needed.

Competition – while not a perfect substitute for a mugging attempt (or similar situation) – does provide that sort of experience.  You’re facing someone whom you may never have seen before – you have only the most general concept of his abilities – and you have to use all of your skill, strength, and training to win.

If you’ve never been to a shiai before – you’re missing out on a vital part of Judo training.  Overcoming your fear, putting your training into play against a total stranger… these are important concepts for Judoka to learn.

Started in 1993, many people thought that the idea of a no-holds-barred tournament between different martial arts was a new idea brought to us courtesy of the Gracies.  But those of you who enjoy reading may very well have first read a book detailing exactly this idea in 1974.  It’s called Kiai!, and it was quickly followed by others in a series of books detailing the exploits of a Judoka ironically named Jason Striker, and written by Piers Anthony and Roberto Fuentes.

Anyone familiar with good Science Fiction/Fantasy knows who Piers Anthony is – he takes second place to no one when it comes to excellent writing… and with Roberto Fuentes, Judo Nidan, making sure that he can keep his details accurate; the book flows well and doesn’t jar the knowledgeable Judoka who’s reading it.

This series was originally published beginning in 1974, and the original paperbacks seem to have developed a ‘collectors item’ price, but fortunately, they appear to have been reprinted in three new volumes, each of which apparently (I don’t own them yet!) contains two original paperback novels.

If you like good Judo fiction – you know how rare it is – be sure to pick this one up, you won’t be disappointed.

 

What is the definition of a Judo throw?  Have you ever considered what it might be?  I’ve always held the (apparently) mistaken belief that a throw is what you do to an opponent to take him to the ground.

An unstated, but perfectly valid corollary to this idea is that you can generally ‘force’ the throw against an opponent.  For example, if I want to use Uchimata, I can always force my opponent to step wide enough for me to insert my attacking leg.  If an opponent wanted to deny me the ability to use Uchimata – he could only do so at the expense of allowing an easy attack for dozens of other throws.

However, take Osoto Gaeshi, for example – I defy you to attack me with this throw… it can’t be done.  Unlike Uchimata – which I cannot successfully prevent you from using, I can stop Yasuhiro Yamashita himself from throwing me with Osoto Gaeshi.  For all I have to do is not attempt an Osoto Gari against him.

Also, note that if I do Osoto Gari against my opponent – as long as he’s not attempting an Osoto Gari against me, I am doing Osoto Gari.  But should my opponent attack me with Osoto Gari, then my exact same movement is now titled a different throw!  It seems silly to me that my opponent can determine the name of the throw that I’m using.

Interestingly, all techniques that you cannot use against an opponent unless he makes a specified attack are in the Shinmeisho no Waza, the newly accepted techniques of the Kodokan.  There are some that have been newly accepted that I find no problems with whatsoever – such as the new separation between Morote Seoinage and Ippon Seoinage, or Tsurikomi Goshi and Sode Tsurikomi Goshi.  Kani Basami should have been included long ago…

But when the Kodokan defines a counterattack as a new throw, I have a problem with it.  It’s hard enough to accept Tsubame Gaeshi, as that seems to actually be a special case… But I suspect that the Kodokan could care less what I think – so all I can do is rant and rave here about my disdain for the way the Kodokan categorizes throws.

 

 

What training method gives you the most benefit for the time spent on it? If you are like me, you’ll spend much of your life practicing Judo, so what is the most efficient way of practicing?

First, let’s examine the common ways to practice a given technique:

1. Uchikomi. Commonly – this refers to repeated ‘fitting in’ on a non-resisting uke. Off balancing is a necessity, and on throws where you can lift, you should be lifting them as well. It’s a mistake not to lift when practicing Seoinage, for example – as mistakes in your technique will be most evident when you lift your opponent, and may not even be noticeable when you don’t. Uchikomi is the most common ways to practice a given technique.
My Opinion: This is the best way to ‘groove’ a technique when first learning it, or learning a new variation, but should be used less frequently than the next two methods for experienced Judoka.  For experienced Judoka this seems to be nothing more than simply a good warmup method. (I stopped "learning" to drive a car decades ago, why am I still "learning" a technique with uchikomi?)

2. Dynamic Uchikomi – or ‘moving‘ uchikomi. This greatly resembles randori, both of you are moving around randomly, and are practicing your given technique on a non-resisting opponent. It’s my opinion that this gives you more ‘bang for the buck’ with this method, since it more realistically resembles the actual situation. It’s a well-known sports training fact that the more closely your training matches what you’re actually doing – the better off your skill will be.
My Opinion: This is a method better suited for experienced Judoka, and is a good method of ‘warmup’ as well.

3. Light Randori – I shouldn’t have to specify “light” randori, but unfortunately most Judoka consider randori to be shiai without the trophies. In light randori, the resistance should be only as much as it takes to stop a sloppy or ill-fitting technique.
My Opinion: This is where I think a majority of your time should be spent as a Judoka. You are practicing the complete skill set – all the way to the ground, you are doing so in a random manner, in different directions, and the lack of serious resistance means that you’ll get plenty of repetitions. Obviously, the more repetitions of a given skill you get in, the better your skill at that technique will be.

4. Randori – by which, I mean what most people think of as randori – resistance just short of shiai. This is where most Judoka spend a majority of their training time.
My Opinion: This is overused, and more time should be spent in light randori. While your defensive skills can be greatly developed in this form of training, your offensive skills are better honed in light randori.

All four methods of training are needed when developing your skill with a particular technique – but for the experienced Judoka, it’s my opinion that most of your time should be spent in light randori. Resistance can be changed to suit your opponent, so it’s quite versatile. Give it a try.

 

 

Many Judoka are under the impression that the techniques used and taught by Jigoro Kano, and the first generation Judoka (many of whom made very high rank), that these techniques were the epitome of Judo, and could not be improved on. And yet, that’s not exactly true. Judo is an evolving art, as it should be. It adapts and changes to the changing circumstances. Techniques that are dangerous are slowly moved out of the mainstream of Judo (Witness the recent ‘execution’ of Kani Basami, for example.), and new techniques are being merged into Judo. 

Some techniques disappeared so long ago that modern Judoka have never even seen them, as the photo to the right shows… K. Samura (10th Dan) doing ‘Seoi Otoshi’ on K. Yasukuni. This photo came from “Judo”, by Sakujiro Yokoyama & Eisuke Oshima. Published in 1915, this shows how far Judo has progressed, as I doubt if you could even find a single Judoka who does Seoi Otoshi this way today.

So the old Classic Judo, while it has much to teach us, is not the ultimate in knowledge. All we need to do is follow the guiding principles of Judo – and we can’t go wrong. For just as America’s Constitution couldn’t possibly envision today’s world, Judo from 100 years ago couldn’t possibly imagine the sort of martial skills and training methods available to modern Judoka – but the guiding principles were correct. This is Jigoro Kano’s legacy to us. Not specific techniques – but the guiding principles.

 

 

Many instructors have a policy of separating beginners from advanced Judoka, particularly in the first few weeks or months of training. I recently was a ‘fill-in’ instructor for just such a class, and was advised by the other Brown and Black belts of their policy of separating the brand new white belts from the other colored belts. It was carefully explained to me that some of the advanced students were competitors, and needed to work on skills for competition.

They were, unfortunately, disappointed that I didn’t take them up on their suggested course of action. I merged everyone together in the class, and did what I routinely did. Which is to describe the technique I wished them to practice, and then walked around and gave individual changes for particular students.

For example, while the entire class was practicing Kesa Gatame, the advanced students were working on Ushiro Kesa Gatame. While the beginners were training their Osoto Gari, the advanced students were either practicing the setup for Osoto Gaeshi as Uke, or practicing Osoto Gari, Nidan Kosoto Gake combinations as Tori.

I tend to think that you shouldn’t single out beginning students, they should be immediately merged into the class… since no Judo class is composed of Judoka who are all at the same level. We have Yudansha at the Encino Judo Club training the same techniques that the rest of the class is doing – yet they are adding in combinations, or doing them off of difficult grips, or adding other variations to their practice. In this way, you can lead a class and keep it on the same technique, yet Judoka who are more advanced can be getting something useful out of their practice as well.

Of course, every instructor is different, and may have different methods of instruction – it would certainly be a boring world if everyone did things the same way – wouldn’t it?

 

 

Ran across an interesting game – I’m always on the lookout for new games for teaching kids in Judo…

Make a line of Judoka (Front to back, not side to side…), each one grabbing the belt of the Judoka in front of him.  The person in the very back is the target, then one Judoka who is not in the line is the ‘player’.  The player attempts to merely touch the very last person in the line.  The line, of course, must move in ways that prevent the player from touching their last person.  In the line, all people must keep both hands on the belt of the Judoka in front of them.

Should the player touch the last person, then the player goes to the front of the line, and the last person in the line becomes the new player…

Although I’ve not yet experimented with this, there may well be an optimum number of people to place in the ‘line’, whether it is a short line of just 3-4 people, or a much longer line of 10 or more… I suspect that the nature of the game changes depending on how many people are in the ‘line’.

Anyone have games that they like to play in the class?

 

 

Kuzushi, Tsukuri, and Kake – the fundamental building blocks of Nagewaza.  Kuzushi – the off-balancing of uke… Tsukuri – fitting in to uke, positioning your body next to uke’s body to be ready to execute the throw… Kake – the finishing powerful execution of the throw.  What Judoka doesn’t know these?  For it’s difficult to get past the first few lessons in a Judo club without running into these concepts…

And although this seems quite simple when demonstrated by Sensei, it is often a whole different ball of wax when you try it yourself.  Particularly against a resisting opponent.  I know you’ve tried to pull uke up to his tiptoes when attempting a Seoinage, and it works just fine when he’s not resisting… but to do so in randori seems almost impossible, doesn’t it?

The trick, of course, is that Kuzushi and Tsukuri are really two aspects of the same movement.  They are not separate movements… particularly at the black belt level, it is your Tsukuri that sets up and forces Kuzushi.  It’s for this reason that an ‘Angle of Attack’ is so critical at the higher levels of Judo.

‘Angle of Attack’ simply refers to the ideal 45 degree angle of your driving leg for the technique.  Imagine, if you will, pushing a refrigerator into position… it’s inconceivable that you’d be at anything other than a 45 degree angle, relative to the refrigerator, if you’re trying your utmost to move it.  For nature decrees that this is the most efficient and powerful angle.  Even children know this, instinctively.  Grab a 6 year old, and tell him/her to push the wall as hard as they can – they will end up in the perfect ‘angle of attack’ without anyone teaching them.

The next time you’re reviewing ‘101 Ippons’, or any similar video showing high level competition, look for the angle of attack, and you’ll see it time and time again.  For without it, you can’t off-balance an opponent who can naturally keep his balance in the most trying of circumstances.  Balance, after all, is one thing that is dramatically different between a white belt and a black belt – the black belt has many years of experience at keeping his, and the white belt often loses his with the least provocation.

 

 

I’ve long regretted the emergence of the UFC’s, but not for the reason many people would first think. It truly has nothing to do with BJJ, but rather with what used to be a rather deep dark secret of Judo.

Back when I began, Judo was considered by most people to be some sort of dance, or at best – a wrestling style, but certainly nothing to be afraid of. No-one believed that Judo would be useful in a fight – after all, we couldn’t rip a guy’s heart out with our bare hands… or knock someone out with a single blow. Karate was definitely the style to take if you wanted to learn a truly effective self-defensive art.

The implication in the “Art of War” by Suntzu is that you are better off if others don’t know your capabilities – and unfortunately, that’s no longer true of Judo. I regret this. I’d rather have everyone think that what I do is harmless.

I’ve always known, from my earliest training in Judo – that it would be more than effective against the average striker – it’s sad to see that most other people now realize this as well. I would have preferred that this ’secret’ remain just that. But BJJ has let the world know that striking is not the ultimate martial art that for many years it was thought to have been.

Interestingly, it seems that the more unknown a martial art is – the more deadly it’s thought to be… witness Ninjitsu vs Karate, for example. But the UFC’s have shown that it’s the sport based arts that are truly the most effective, or at least, the most effectively trained.