Thoughts on Tournaments

Clayton Conanan entered Kai Leung's Traditional Karate-do Invitational Championships last weekend. He came home with two Bronze Medals in Kata (forms) and Kobudo (weapons). Impressive. He then commented on his Kumite (sparring), noticing certain common weaknesses in others' fighting, and certain moves he did which scored well. I'm more impressed by what he learned while 'losing' than I am by his two medals.  

As written in our newsletter, Autumn 1993 edition:
There are several reasons for entering tournament - some right reasons, and some wrong ones: 
* If you want to win trophies - keep in mind that there are many more competitors than prizes. It's possible you might lose.
* If you're looking for a flashy event like in the "Karate Kid" movies - that's Hollywood, not real life.
* If you expect the ultimate in fair play and sportsmanship - welcome to the world of politics and favoritism. 
So why bother? Well, competing in tournament offers you a great learning experience and other excellent benefits. Such as: 
* You realize that you're part of a much bigger Karate "family" out there - not just our little dojo.
* You compete with strangers from other schools and styles - a great educational experience.
* You are judged by other Black Belts - more feedback than just from your Sensei.
* There is a great sense of honor, pride , and camaraderie in representing your dojo, and demonstrating how well you can perform.

If you enter tournament with the intention of learning, growing, broadening your experience, testing your mettle, challenging yourself to do your personal best - trophy or not - you are already a winner!

Origins of 'Naihanchi no Sai'

I've been a night worker on the 'graveyard' shift since 1980. I'll get home in the morning, put on the TV to something unexciting (usually PBS), and let it lull me to sleep. During light sleep phases, I often hear what's on the TV.
One morning the TV was 'talking' about Japan, which caught my ear. It mentioned a writer, C.W. Nicol, and his experiences in Japan. I know C.W. Nicol as the author of 'Moving Zen', his account of Karate training in Japan, a book I read in the mid 1980s. My eyes shot open just in time to see him performing sai kata. Halfway through it I realized he was doing Tekki Sho! That afternoon I went to the dojo and worked on the kata. I'm sure it's not identical to what Nicol did, but he has his way of performing Tekki Sho and we have ours. Feeling the kata was too short, I connected Tekki Sho and Tekki Ni into one effective kata. The sai is a Ryukyu Islands weapon, so I called this kata 'Naihanchi no Sai', differentiating the more fluid movements from a Japanese Tekki. Just as our version is slightly different from Nicol's, this kata can be performed even more fluid (like in Yamanni Ryu) or more static (like a Korean Chul-Gi). The versatility can suit a particular style or even a particular instructor.
New kobudo students often find it difficult to concentrate on fundamental manipulations with a new weapon and learn a new kata at the same time. I find Naihanchi no Sai works well because the student already knows the kata and can now concentrate on handling the weapon. It is the first sai kata taught at Ni Kyu before Kihon Sai or any Yamanni Ryu.

Story From My Youth

When I was a teen, nunchaku was not illegal, in fact, it was barely known, being before the Bruce Lee movies. I made my first pair of nunchaku in Junior High School wood shop class. One day, I was practicing in a local park, swinging and twirling away. Some old guy (old guy - he must've been in his 30s, but to a teenager, that's old) came up to me and asked why I kept missing my target. I said he doesn't know what he's talking about, in fact he probably doesn't even know what I'm doing. He then insisted that I'm missing my target. After a little banter back and forth, he suggested that I go over and hit that tree with my nunchaku. I did, and the stick rebounded off the trunk and smashed into my funny-bone. While I rubbed to try and regain some feeling in my arm, he explained all my twirling meant that I missed my target; that an actual strike rebounds back, making all that twirling senseless. A nunchaku has two handles and is meant to be swung and caught, or used two-handed to trap and break. I never forgot that lesson.

In the 1980s, at a Miyazaki Invitational Championship, some young Black Belt gave a demo using two nunchakus. The audience ooh-ed and aah-ed as he twirled away. Some seniors in the crowd yelled 'Osu!' when he dropped one of his weapons, but overall, the demo was met with loud cheering. I realized the limited martial value of what he was doing, even though it was a spectacular performance.

A former friend of mine came to visit my dojo shortly after Sensei Takahashi came back from Japan and taught all those in attendance a new nunchaku kata he just learned - 'Sokan'. I even got it on video. It was a nice enough kata, nothing spectacular, but very traditional with strike-catch moves, trapping and breaking moves, and lack of twirls. My students and I found it interesting, but too much for me to learn in a short time. I thought about it that night, and realized I could do all the same movements by combining the top bar of Heian Nidan, Heian Godan, and the rest from Heian Yodan. The next day I went to the dojo and worked out the kinks, called it 'Pinan no Nunchaku' (giving it a more Okinawan flavor, as nunchaku is an Okinawan weapon), and showed it to some of my senior students. The next week when my friend came to visit he showed me Sokan again, I showed him Pinan no Nunchaku, and we were both impressed. From then on Pinan no Nunchaku became a kobudo requirement for Ikkyus and above in Dō Gakuin.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVG1vHBhqBg