Video: Isshujiai by Kendoeva

Damn, I wish I was there. :(

Looks to be a group of naginata and kendo students doing isshujiai at a japanese university.

Back to basics

It seems that with Mitchell off training to catch bad guys, I'm the only one showing up for training on Fridays these days.

In some ways bad, because I no longer have a training partner with whom to "play" around. In some ways it's good because, well, I get to work on my own stuff.

I asked sensei Friday if she'd allow me to hit the dummy for a while. Told her I watched my vids and came to the conclusion that my combinations seemed to be working well (im creating open targets and going for them), but I didn't score as often as I wished because I was slightly off target ... especially when I shot to the men. She was totally for it, and suggested I try to hit the dummy 100 times a night with the same technique.

If she has the time to give me, I have the time to spare!

So during the last class, I did nothing but shomen uchi against the dummy, trying to get good hits. Much to work on. Much to work on, indeed.

Are we having fun yet? (XPost)

(This article was originally posted to my tango baka blog, but I think the message applies to this blog, as well, so I'm cross-posting here.)

Is it wrong to try to get skilled at tango? Apparently, for some people it is. I was on a train coming home from a dance class in San Francisco when I ran into a woman whom I hadn't seen in a while. I don't remember her name now, so let's just call her Ms. Train. Anyway, she recognized me from a tango class we had both taken months earlier. Now, seated next to one another, we strike up a conversation.

Because of scheduling conflicts, Ms. Train says, she stopped going to the dance hall in Sunnyvale where we met. But, she continues, she started taking classes at another place on a different night.

She asks if I'm still dancing. This is about four or five months after I started -- well into my tango addiction. It is also around the same time I start to understand the whole concept of leading, so I'm no longer stepping on my partners' toes during each and every dance.

I'm sure visibly happy when I tell her that not only am I still taking lessons, but I'm getting increasingly confident I'm going to be pretty good at leading. Given my passion for the dance, and given my history of immersing myself in whatever I've set my heart to, I say, there's no way I'm not going to be pretty good at this.

Sagelike, she says, "The point of dancing isn't to get good, Martin. The point is about having fun."

The first thought that comes to mind is something like "Did you learn that line in grade school?" Somehow, she got it in her head that engaging in a drive to improve oneself and having fun are two mutually exclusive things. Her attitude isn't unique: I can't tell you how many times I've heard people say those words -- if not to me, then to someone within earshot.

And, honestly? The attitude confuses me.

Now, I understand there are times when people in some recreational activities get so obsessed with attaining an objective -- a trophy, prize money, fame -- that they lose sight of the enjoyment they derived from the activity when they got into it in the first place; their problem, however, is that they're beset by the same false logic as Ms. Train: They think that enjoying oneself and getting better at something are mutually exclusive.

"What if I like training?" I ask her. "And what if I have more fun doing an activity as I get better at it?"

I explain that the better I become, the more varied steps I can do. And even if I don't learn anything fancy, stepping on my partner's toes isn't my idea of having a good time. The more skilled I get the less I step on partners' toes.

"I don't mind if someone steps on my toes," she replies. "And I would expect him not to mind, either, if I stepped on his. We're there to have fun."

"So you're telling me I shouldn't try to improve?"

"You should just have fun," she says.

After a few moments, I tell her that I find a lackadaisical, happy-go-lucky approach to be unacceptable in an activity such as tango, in which so much of the enjoyment that comes from a dance is having to move in unison -- mind, body, heart -- with your partner. And gaining the ability to move in unison with a partner takes skill. You're either one of the gifted few who were born with that skill, or you're one of the countless many who need to work at it.

I understand, however, sort of, what she is saying. If someone steps on my toes I shouldn't mind, because, after all, toe-stepping is just part of the tango experience; that said, I would also expect that if I stepped on my partners' toes she wouldn't bite my head off, either. But if I knew the partner didn't care about whether she continued to step on my toes I certainly would mind; likewise I would expect her to get pissed at me if I continued carelessly to step on hers.

In short, a partner who isn't so skilled at dancing but wishes to improve is one thing, and I would gladly dance with her to the best of my ability (and hers) without hesitation. But a partner who isn't skilled and doesn't care to improve is someone who I'd rather not dance with at all. There's no point to it. It won't be fun, and there's no improvement to look forward to.

Ms. Train advocates a masturbatory mindset, one that's selfish and wholly self-gratifying. Tango is not a solo activity ... or, rather, like sex, it shouldn't be. True tango involves partners. And when each dance is begun, each side of the union should try not only have a good time, but should also try to make his or her partner's experience enjoyable as well.

I tell her about something my teacher Marcelo said to me over dinner one night.

I was telling him how, after three months of tango, I still didn't want to go to a milonga. He said I was leading well enough and wasn't sure why I was so hesitant to go. I told him that, first of all, I'm naturally shy. Second, I still felt as if I didn't have enough skill to lead a partner without screwing up big time. And third, even if I could dance a song without messing up, I didn't want to bore my partner death.

"I just want my partner to have a good time when she's dancing with me," I told him. "And I don't think I can do that yet."

He smiled at me, then replied: "Martin, with an attitude like that, I guarantee you're going to be a popular dancer. Your partners will appreciate it. That's what tango's all about ... the relationship between the partners. Just take your time."

Ms. Train had a different take on the conversation.

"I feel sorry for you," she says. "You've probably missed out on a lot of fun activities throughout your life just because you thought you weren't good at them."

I do admit that I've given up on things I felt that I wasn't good at: salsa being one of them, and of course mathematics being another. But I'm far from someone who's been too afraid to try something new. My hobbies/passions/experiences are pretty eclectic. They include 25 years of many different martial arts activities, three years of car racing, five years of living abroad in two different countries and traveling to many others, gaining the ability to converse in a couple of foreign languages, writing, wine tasting, drawing, guitar playing, and now tango.

I've had a blast doing all of the activities. No kidding, huh? I wouldn't have been doing them if I didn't find them fun. In many of the activities, I also am considered fairly accomplished: world championship appearances in three different martial arts, a world champion title in naginata, national champion titles in three martial arts, journalism awards, art contest wins, etc. Mentioning the list above was not meant to brag by any means, rather it was meant to illustrate that one can be very serious at improving in an activity and still have fun in the process. If you enjoy the process of training and practice, the accomplishments will take care of themselves.

I can accept that there are people -- Ms. Train among them -- who don't want to (and therefore don't need to) put any serious effort into improving at tango; they're perfectly content to derive whatever pleasure they can get out of the dance with only what they already know, and have no aspirations to delve deeper into an extremely deep dance. But I sure wish that those people who care nothing about improving themselves would just stop trying to convince those of us who do that mediocrity is all we should aspire to.

Video: Me at the USNF Nationals

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I was working on a video of me doing shiai at the recent US Naginata Federation's National Championships. The video went live on Google Video this morning.



Some may say I'm a bit of a narcissist to post such highlights of myself for the whole world to see. Take this in whatever way you wish, but I've always believed that, yes, even martial artists (and in this case, competitors) should use technology to help them improve. With modern video technology, the everyday person is afforded an invaluable tool he/she can use any time to pick apart not only their strengths and weaknesses but also those of their competitors. Of course this kind of study is mainly for people who to take a more hands-on approach to their training, rather than expecting to be spoon-fed by their sensei. well, I made this video to study, and I posted it much for the same reason that I write this blog: to share my thoughts with whomever cares to read or see. (I added the music to make it a bit more interesting.)

With that said and done, although this video is ostensibly a collection of "highlights," it actually represents just as much a testament to my folly: It is a compilation of almost all the action in all of my matches -- whether initiated by me or my opponent; whether the action resulted in a score or resulted in nothing. As one can see, the vast majority of my strikes did not score ... many were off target (slipping off the men, for example) or did not exhibit proper distance or zanshin. My speed and timing, however, wasn't so bad ... and except for the two times that Magpayo scored off me, I had reasonable responses to almost all attacks thrown at me. (I was scored on three times that day: twice by Magpayo and once by Saxton.) Even so, compared with my matches two years ago in Bryn Mawr (naginataka.com/bryn.htm), I seem to be less mobile. This, according to my sensei, is a mark of maturity, though I have to tell you, moving around the ring is much more fun.

Watching the video, I realize that Magpayo was able to get past my defenses not necessarily because he was quicker than what I could handle, but rather because his attacks were so smooth they didn't trigger my automatic responses. In fact, I hardly responded at all to the sune he threw to end our shiai in the team match (shown at the 1:23 mark in the video). Dealing with smooth attackers is something I must work on, because it seems that is a definite trait of the European naginata fighters who I will face in Belgium next year, and who I played with in the 2003 INF World Championships. (Click here for a video of the Belgian mens team in action)

I think that in general, the U.S. men -- particularly people like Saxton and Lowe -- are much more explosive in their attacks than the Europeans. We *might* be quicker, but the Europeans seem more smooth. And to me, their smoothness masks their formidable speed -- and their reach. It was very "interesting" fighting them in the 2003 INF worlds. And I'm sure it'll be interesting matching with them in the 2007 INF worlds as well.

Oh yeah, if any of you can point me to some videos of Japanese men naginata matches, please do so. I'm very much interested in checking out their style.

Well, enough for now. Back to work ....

Found some older videos of me

While chatting with one of the naginata folks from the East Coast, I was made aware of some naginata videos of matches in the 2004 USNF national championships that were posted to the Web (www.naginataka.com). I participated in that tournament -- in fact, that was the one in which I beat Saxton for the first time, on my way to become the (now former) national men's shiai champion.

The thing I found most interesting while studying these videos is to compare how much my naginata fighting style has changed over the last two years. In my various matches (for example, vSaxton and vEngalla) I seem to be moving around much more than I do now. I used footwork that came naturally to me from my extensive karate and limited boxing training (ie., using angles, changing up distance, skip steps, etc.) Over the last couple of years, however, I've tried to "mature" my fighting style, as my sensei might put it, by trying to remain as calm and motionless as possible before an attack.

Remaining motionless with opponents whom you believe to be quicker than you and in possession of superior timing and sense of distance requires that you have utmost confidence in your reactions and speed. Prior to this year, I believed the likes of Saxton and Peterson were so superior to me in those respects that the only way I could equalize the odds was to give them a a moving target and to fight them in a way that made their ability to time me more difficult. Another factor was that I believed I had superior conditioning than most of my opponents, so I could keep up a much more active pace than they could.

The criticism i hear incessantly from many quarters is that you cannot move around so quickly if you had a real naginata in your hands. While I accept that as true, I also accept that most of the people who level the criticisms couldnt hold a real real naginata and even make a straight cut. So much of what we do with shiai naginata, the critics included, cannot be done with a real naginata, so their point is pretty much moot.

I may talk about that later. Needless to say, I do understand that as one matures in this art, ones movements become much more economical.

As I post videos of me in the most recent national championships, I think the comparison between how much my movement has changed will become evident. It should be fun to watch.

I'm no longer the champ

The US Naginata Federation yesterday concluded its 2006 national championships and US team tryouts, which were held at Sonoma State University. And with its conclusion, I am now a former national champion. Kevin Saxton beat me in the men's individual shiai finals 1-0 -- in overtime.

I came out with two silvers and a bronze, a result that is far from the three golds I aspired to, but not so bad of a record, either. (For official results, click here.) More importantly, I qualified for the US world championship naginata team that will be sent to Belgium next year.

The tournament was smaller than what most people expected it to be, but the numbers once more belied the quality of competitors.

A number of veterans were there again -- including Saxton, Peterson, and Schmucker -- but what made the experience really interesting were the newcomers to the yudansha division. As I expected, Engalla of the Greater New York Naginata Federation (who isn't really a newcomer, but is nonetheless relatively new compared to the abovementioned competitors) has come into his own -- actually defeating Peterson in a match. His teammate, Magpayo, did a similar feat (he also beat me in the team match!). Goerzen, of the Northern California Naginata Federation, also showed huge improvements. During his matches with Saxton and Schmucker he held his composure and mostly refrained from doing the "stupid" things (eccentric kamae and moves) that he often does in practice.

Prior to the tournament, we had four days of seminars and workshops. Although I enjoyed almost every one of them that I attended, I have to say that after four days of training, sometimes over the course of 12 hours (including lunch and dinner breaks), my feet and legs were killing me. It was worth it, however, to re-establish ties with naginata practioners around the country. Some of them I havent seen in years. I had a lot of fun BSing with teammates, rivals, and sensei.

I cannot wait for the next event, whenever that may be.

I'll be working on a video, which I hope to have up on Google Video by the end of this week. It should be fun to watch.

So ... I have two world championships to train for now: the Shotokan Karate International World Championships in Tokyo (November 2006) and the International Naginata Federation World Championships in Belgium (August 2007).

Wish me luck.