So, I went into my first bout with zero expectations. I mean I’ve been fighting for all of three weeks. I assumed I’d be decimated. But my natural fighting instincts kicked in, and maybe a little bit of those martial arts movies that my brother and I were so fond of growing up. And I found myself blocking kicks and throwing counter punches. I still lost, but I put up a better fight than anyone gave me credit for. At one point, I even blocked a kick and then while my opponent was off-balanced, I knocked him completely to the floor. That move got a loud “Oooh!” from the onlookers. It’s not strictly legal, but at this point, I’m more of a street fighter. My opponent got his revenge though. On the next go-round, he feigned a kick and then punched me straight in the chest…hard. I took it, but I felt it. His follow-up move was to kick me in the head. I guess there was no more Mr. Nice Guy after I took him to the ground in front of everyone.
My next bout was against a much younger, skinnier opponent, but his kicks were quicker. I knew that I didn’t have the skills yet to go toe-to-toe with these guys, so my strategy was to work on blocking whatever they threw at me without backing down. And then sprinkle in some punches and kicks along the way, hoping to get lucky. It worked pretty well. He couldn’t kick up to my head, so most of his shots were at chest or waist level. I was blocking most everything he threw at me. At one point, I even caught his foot. He stood there hopping around on one leg, so I threw down his foot and immediately threw a kick of my own. But he was a one-trick pony, because he did the exact same thing again, and I caught his foot a second time. This time I flung his leg away, which threw him off balance, and he stumbled, catching himself with his hands on the floor. I felt like that round was more even.
My third bout was against my teacher, a seventh-degree black belt. He was better at giving me pointers on how to improve. I didn’t really score any points on him. I could tell that he was taking it easy on me. But I did do pretty well at blocking his kicks…at least until he went over my block and tagged me in the head…multiple times. On one occasion, he kicked me and I blocked, and without putting his foot down, he kicked me again in rapid succession, and I blocked again. And without putting his foot down, he kicked me a third time, flinging his foot up into my head.
It was maybe the best class so far. Even being pummeled, I had a blast. My son is jealous that I get to fight while he has to just do forms and exercises. But honestly, I think it has to do more with the fact that I’m in class with a bunch of black belts. One of the guys even told me, “Stick with us. We’ll make you into a really badass white belt.” I guess it’s like they say, if you want to be the best, then you have to beat the best. It would be nice to have someone else at a similar level though, even just to mix it up occasionally. If I could pick anyone to do this with, it would be my brother. It was always our childhood dream to be martial arts masters, like our movie heroes. I think he’d enjoy it as much as I do.
UPDATE: WH, the retired police officer in my men’s group that used to teach tactical training to police officers, told me tonight that he agreed with my approach to knocking people down and incapacitating the threat, even if they didn’t consider it legal from a taekwondo perspective. I took that as a ringing endorsement!
UPDATE UPDATE: One of the guys in my martial arts class asked me tonight if I was a boxer. He said that they were talking about me after my sparring session on Monday, and I guess my style indicated boxer over martial artist. I presume that was because of my penchant for blocking and counter punching over straight up kicking. They don’t realize that the formerly pulled muscle in my thigh is still really tender, and I don’t trust it yet. So, I’m reluctant to throw a bunch of kicks. Plus, I’m trying to mix it up. My style next time might be completely different. I might throw only kicks. I might switch between right-handed and left-handed. I don’t want them to figure out how to fight me. But the funniest part is that they were talking about me. I’m not sure if it was good or bad, but at least they’re talking!
