Many years ago, I was in New York to teach a seminar. A friend, Sensei Grant Campbell, was competing in a tournament the next day in the Bronx and asked if I’d like to go with him. I had only heard negative things about the Bronx, all via the media, so I wanted to see it for myself.
The people at the tournament couldn’t have been nicer or more hospitable. There was also some great karateka, including some fantastic fighters, people I had never heard of. As one of the national coaches at the time, I would have loved to have some of them on the national team and tried to recruit a couple of them. One of these competed in a white track suit. Sensei Campbell asked if I knew why he didn’t wear a gi. I just thought it was a personal choice. He told me the guy couldn’t as he had been shot so many times on the street that the canvas in a gi irritated the bullet holes. That was a new one for me. He was blindingly fast and skilled in that way that only reality in your training can give you.
While at the tournament, I was asked to sit on the panel that was to judge black belt kata. They seated us in a straight line, rather than in the ring corners as is sometimes done. One of the competitors came forward and bowed. He was only around 6 to 8 feet in front of the judges. When he called out his kata, “Gojushiho Sho,” I thought he would surly take a few steps back before beginning because Gojushiho Sho could not be done correctly within the space he had given himself. And running into, or coming too close to, the judges would normally earn him a score of zero, as it indicated he didn’t know his kata well enough to know where to start it. Well, he started it where he stood. And he soon headed right for the chief referee, who sat in the middle of the row. Then, I saw something I had never seen before or since. The judges all stood up as if it happened all the time, moved their chairs out of the way, and allowed the competitor to continue through them, waiting while he headed back the other way and ended where he started. It was a great performance – except for making the judges move.
I was surprised when the chief referee called for scores. Under the WUKO system, he would normally have called a meeting and instructed the judges to award the performance a score of zero or at least some major point deduction. Well, on his whistle, I held up a low score. But everyone else gave him such high scores, he won the division. Whereas this would generally been considered a major miscalculation on the competitor’s part, it was sort of refreshing - although I would not recommend any kata competitor to ever do as he did. They only judged his performance and didn’t let anything else affect their judgment, ignoring what many officials would have considered disrespectful.
It’s generally critical a competitor knows his kata well enough to know where to begin without running into the officials, other competitors, or a wall or other obstruction. Any of these will almost always be considered a major flaw and result in a low score. Also, some competitors seem to believe they will impress the judges if they deliver their techniques as close to the judges’ faces as they can, as if it demonstrates control. It will most certainly not impress an experienced judge. In fact, it will do just the opposite. And this is especially true for kobudo (weapons kata). I judged a weapons kata once, where the competitor performed a kama (sickle) kata, with the kama on long cords. He was very skillful but on a several occasions, his sickles intentionally came very close to the judges’ faces. Everyone gave him a very low score. No one appreciated him putting their health at risk. If he had slipped even slightly, a cord had snapped, or he wasn’t as good as he thought he was, one of us would have been seriously injured. Not only did he receive very low scores but he was told that if he ever did it again, he would be banned from competition.
Thanks again for your continued support and for reading my humble ramblings.
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