My primary lifetime instructor, Soke Takayuki Kubota, used to enjoy playing a little trick on people who thought they were tough. If someone like that, especially someone with a bad attitude, came into his dojo or attended one of his workshops, he would get into a stance and invite them to footsweep him. When the guy kicked his front leg, he would never use all their power. They’d just make his leg wiggle a little. Then, Soke would chastise him for being so weak. His ego injured, the guy would put everything into his next attempt. But as he did, Soke would quickly half-step back with his front leg, rotate his hips, and come around with a hard shin to shin sweep with his right.
Those of us who had been with Soke for many years would always watch the faces of those he had setup. The looks on their faces when their shins met were classic. And their attitudes were immediately adjusted down several notches.
Old photo of Soke Kubota and IKA karateka. |
One of my first memories of Soke was of him in the elevated boxing ring at the old Long Beach Auditorium, where Ed Parker held his International Karate Championships for several years, before moving into the larger new arena. Soke started his demonstration by “warming up”. He set his hand on a wooden pedestal and beat it with a sledge hammer. Then, he set his foot on the pedestal and beat his shin. I’d seen people who could break stacks of bricks before so that didn’t really impress me. What did impress me was what he did next.
As his grand finale, he sparred three of the black belt finalists from that year’s event, individually and then all three at once. I think these three included Chuck Norris and Tonny Tulleners. I forget who the third was. Everyone else that night had done these well-rehearsed demos, where they were attacked by their own students and everyone fell down right on cue. So I was impressed with both Soke’s skill and confidence in his methods. (I had the “good” fortune to be selected to serve as Soke’s demo partner a few times over the years. And he never pre-rehearsed any I was ever a part of. He would just say to attack with kicks or punches or a weapon.)
I knew top people at the time who were great fighters but never produced anyone who came even close to them in ability. The question I asked myself at the time was “Is it his system that makes him great? Or is it his personal skill and natural qualities that makes his system appear great?” The former means I may benefit from studying his system. The latter means it likely has nothing to offer me. A great athlete can make even a bad system look good. Soke Kubota was not only a great fighter but his system (his tactics and strategies), instilled under his very tough training methods, produced many very strong fighters over the years.
In 1990, I read Bruce Everett Miller’s book, Pressure Points: The Deadly Touch. It was the first book on the subject I’d come across that wasn’t based on chi or ki and that esoteric system. Miller’s approach was based on western medical systems, using the same objective and verifiable structures and the same familiar descriptors and terminology. He divided pressure points into 7 types: 1) Ligament points, 2) Tendon points, 3) Nerve points, 4) Muscle points, 5) Organ points, 6) Bone points, and 7) Reflex points. (Check his website for his books and dvds - http://quanlikan.com/.)
In his shin to shin sweep, Soke Kubota was attacking what Miller would label a bone point. But, having studied directly under legendary Okinawan grandmaster, Kanken Toyama, and as the son of one of Japan’s top taiho jitsu experts and law enforcement advisor, Soke was very familiar with the huge number of sensitive spots throughout the human body.
In Japan, Soke had been very active in law enforcement. He was brought to the United States by Harvey Eubanks, then training lieutenant for LAPD and former student of American karate pioneer William Dometrich. (Harvey would go on to become one of Soke’s senior students and organizational heads.) Once here, Soke was sought out by our top law enforcement agencies. At one point, he and I hosted a law enforcement instructor’s course at my dojo. Instructors from the FBI, Department of Corrections (DOC), local police, and sheriff’s office attended the event.
The FBI and the DOC instructors had to occasionally transport some of the toughest and most vicious people within the entire prison system. The three FBI instructors were all muscular and intense young guys. They questioned everything. They were not disrespectful, just wanted to make sure what they used to move prisoners would be effective. Their lives (and those of the agents they would teach) could easily depend on it. They had recently had to move Hugo Pinell, who could reportedly bench press 450 lbs and was one of the most feared prisoners within the system. He was kept in maximum security, away from the other prisoners, at the request of the other prisoners! I knew Pinell’s name as my former black belt student, who had worked at San Quentin before transferring to Soledad Prison, had also been assigned to transport him on a couple of occasions.
Plus, they had to vary the procedures they used each time they moved the same prisoner. Those they moved had nothing to lose and nothing but time on their hands to practice, over and over, methods for escaping whatever procedure the guards had used to handle them on previous occasions. They would, for example, practice how to come off a wall while being frisked in spread-eagle. Or, they would practice how to get out of a chicken wing, etc. So those who had to move such people kept extensive notes on their procedures and would make sure to vary them, never moving them in the same way twice.
During the training session at my dojo, one of the FBI instructors asked Soke how he would get out of an especially difficult pin. Soke allowed the instructor to apply it, then began struggling as would a normal suspect. The instructor, being significantly larger and more muscular, was able to handle that relatively easy. But, then, the instructor yelled and his arms flew opened, releasing Soke, who had attacked a specific point in the instructor’s chest with the knuckle of his index finger.
I’d better stop for now. I got somewhat sidetracked. I'll try to get back on subject next time. Again, thanks for bearing with me.