My first opportunity to witness Soke Takayuki Kubota in action came at Ed Parker’s 1965 International Karate Championships, the biggest karate tournament in the world at the time. Grandmaster Parker was a great guy, who was always a pleasure to be around and who tried to make each year’s Internationals as challenging and fair as possible for competitors, fun for spectators, and educational for instructors and martial artists in general.

He invited Soke Kubota to demonstrate for the instructors who met each morning in the basement of the tournament hotel to go over the rules, make announcements, introduce people, and present demonstrations by martial artists we hadn’t seen before. There had been an article in Black Belt Magazine, which everyone read back then, about this Japanese policeman who had done some amazing things, including breaking up a prison riot unarmed and single-handed. (I later asked him how he had managed to stop the riot. He basically said that if you hit the first guy so hard that it did massive damage, no one wanted to be number two.) The article included a great photo of Soke Kubota standing next to his police car. So everyone was eager to see this Japanese policeman in action. Soke Kubota and John Gehlsen, who was only a green belt at the time but would later become one of our greatest fighters, put on an impressive exhibition.

Just a few months earlier, I had returned from Korea and been discharged from the Army. I was already a black belt, having trained both before and during my military years, and I was looking for someone, preferably someone great, with whom to continue my training.

Whenever I spotted one of the early media stars, the celebrated, big-name martial artists at any tournament, I always watched to see how good their students were. If they were strong, I assumed they had a good instructor, who taught an effective martial arts system. I found, however, that few had produced any highly skilled students. What appeared to have made these instructors so successful was not the fighting system they taught but, rather, their genetic gifts – their natural reflexes, flexibility, hand-to-eye coordination, fast-twitch muscle composition, and so on. Many were such great natural athletes that they could have made any martial arts system look good, no matter how flawed. I wanted to find someone who taught a system that could make the average person effective.

I was very impressed with both Soke Kubota and his students. The kihon or fundamentals of his Gosoku Ryu system were practical and effective in a fighting environment, as they were the result of him merging his extensive street experience as a former Japanese police instructor and bodyguard to the American Ambassador with the traditional kihon and techniques he had learned from men like the legendary Kanken Toyama, one of his early instructors. When used to implement his own brilliant tactical and strategic skills, the results were impressive. His early students – men like Ben Otake, Tonny Tulleners, Harvey Eubanks, George Damon and later John Gehlsen, George Byrd, Val Mijailovic, Boban Petkovic, Rod Kuratomi, and others – were tough fighters, their techniques quick and powerful as the name of his style, Gosoku Ryu, Hard and Fast, implied.

In addition to demonstrating at the instructors’ meeting, Soke Kubota also demonstrated at that night’s black belt finals. Part of his demo included sparring with one of his black belts, Tonny Tulleners, who was the tournament’s middleweight black belt champion. (Tonny would later win the bronze medal at the first WUKO World Karate Championships in Tokyo in 1970.) Next, Soke Kubota sparred with the lightweight and heavyweight black belt champions individually, then all three at once. Of course some of their techniques would likely have “scored” during the long, three-against-one match had a win been determined by tournament rules, rather than by the rules of budo. But in attempting to score on him, they had to move close enough to reach him, which enabled him to grab and control them. From there, he could have easily delivered one of his brick-breaking, bone-crushing punches, had he chosen to do so. But even had any of them tried to do more than merely score a controlled tournament point, he had already established his ability to take a tremendous amount of physical abuse without diminishing his ability to continue fighting.

He had started his demo that evening by “warming up” his hands and legs – beating his knuckles and shins with a sledge hammer. So everyone was well aware of his own incredible toughness. As Okinawan and Japanese masters had long taught, his personal training in the martial arts had not only focused on learning attack and defensive skills but also on body toughening, making himself better able to withstand whatever his opponents might attempt to do to him during an actual attack.

This was true old school training, which Soke had undergone beginning when he was a small boy growing up in Kyushu. It was wartime and everyone in Japan, including four-year-old Takayuki Kubota, was being mobilized to defend their homeland, fighting on the beaches hand-to-hand if necessary. He said that he and the others would punch a heavy, makeshift punching bag 500 times each morning to toughen their hands and strengthen their striking techniques; then they would do the same with their feet, kicking the heavy bag 500 times to toughen their feet and strengthen their kicks.

In addition, he religiously practiced “bottle training,” beating his shins each day with a beer bottle to deaden the nerves. As an adult, this enabled him to deliver a ferocious shin-to-shin sweep that struck fear into the hearts of anyone who knew about it and were asked to spar him. “Sweep me,” he would tell visiting black belts who had come to train with him. (And the bigger they were, the better.) When they came around to sweep him, he would snap his lead leg back, pop his hips around, and smash his shin against the black belt’s shin, taking them to the floor.

What had impressed me greatly at Soke Kubota’s demonstration at the Internationals was his warrior’s attitude. He had such confidence in his ability that he never worried about testing himself against people he had never met, let alone fought before. And he did it in front of a standing-room-only assembly of top martial artists from at least this hemisphere.

His demos were always unplanned, spontaneous events. After I joined the IKA and began training under Soke, I was occasionally selected to demonstrate with him. He always told me simply to attack. When I asked, what type of attack he wanted, he would say “Any okay.” Do anything. Even when demonstrating in front of many of the top martial artists in North America at the Internationals, he wasn’t the slightest bit worried about being up to the task or looking bad, which was in stark contrast to what others who demonstrated that night had done. All gave choreographed, well-rehearsed presentations, and looked it. In one multiple-man attack scenario, an “attacker” fell down at the wrong time. When he realized it, he got back up, to the amusement of the audience. Soke’s demo was nothing like that. When he put someone on the mat, they knew it and usually stayed down at least long enough to run a physical inventory to make sure everything was still working as designed.

In 1966, I hosted the U.S Karate Winter- National Championships and invited Soke Kubota and Bruce Lee, who was living with a friend in Oakland at the time, to demonstrate. Chuck Norris drove up from Redondo Beach with some of his students and won his first Grand Championship. The event gave me the opportunity to speak in-depth with Soke Kubota and a few of his students. I found him very down-to-earth, a humble man with a wonderful sense of humor. He always made everyone feel at ease and was as comfortable with white belts as with the most senior black belts. What I heard and what I had already seen convinced me to join the IKA.

I have truly been blessed throughout my 64 years in the martial arts and owe so much to so many who helped me along the way, men and women who were not only wonderful people but also tremendous martial artists. Soke Takayuki Kubota was one of the most important of these and I’ll always be indebted to him.

My novel, The Arrow Catcher, released on Amazon!

I apologize for pimping my own book here but it's my first novel and I'm excited to see it finally in print on Amazon. It's only out now in paperback. But is being converted to Kindle and should be released in that format soon.http://www.amazon.com/The-Arrow-Catcher-Jim-Mather/dp/1491011394/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1379814734&sr=8-3&keywords=the+arrow+catcher

Memories from an old photo of three great karateka

I posted a photo on my Facebook page (MatherKarateka) today and it reminded me of some great people I had met through karatedo. Below is the photo:

Right to Left: Asai Sensei, Kotaka Sensei, Mrs. Kotaka, Mrs. Mimoto, Mimoto Sensei, me.
 

It was shot at the AAU National Karate Championships in Wide World of Sports stadium at Disneyworld. I can’t remember the year. Asai Sensei was a special guest for the event. I was able to spend a bit of time with him. He had always been the mysterious one among the JKA instructors we saw in an early JKA training film. Everyone else was linear and explosive, their actions clearly full of power. Asai was different. He was agile and flexible, his techniques non-linear most of the time, reminding me more of the kung fu fighters I knew back then – Bruce, Al Dacascos, Brendan Lai, etc. – than the other JKA instructors. When I finally met him many years later, I found him to be a very quiet and gracious gentleman, who we have unfortunately lost since that time.

Also in the photo with me is Kotaka Sensei, the great karateka, whose son, George, is one of our great champions. Many of his students have gone on to represent the United States very successfully in international competition, and still do so. In the 90s, I was invited to his dojo while in Hawaii for his annual tournament. I was very impress with his approach to training and the quality of his students, across the board, regardless of age, gender, or rank.

Sitting next to me is Hitoshi Mimoto. He and I met for the first time in London. As I was a graduate student at Stanford University School of Education, one of the coaches for the USA Karate Team, and co-chair of the US Coaches Education Committee, Hanshi George Anderson invited me to accompany him to the formation meeting for the World Students Karate Union, under the auspices of JKF and WUKO/WKF. Sensei Mimoto was sent from JKF, along with Mr. Yamaoka, who represented WUKO/WKF. Sensei Mimoto was named President of the new group. Richard Thomas of Great Britain was named Secretary. And I was named Treasurer.

Foundation of World Students Karate Union.
London, England

Richard Thomas, Hitoshi Mimoto, and me in London.

I saw Mimoto Sensei several times after that at WUKO events and in the U.S. – at our USAKF nationals, at the AAU Nationals in Florida, and in LA, when I was asked to hastily put together a U.S. collegiate team for a goodwill competition against a strong collegiate team which Mimoto San brought to this country for another event.

Sensei Mimoto and I in LA for Goodwill Collegate Competition

The last time I saw him was in Okinawa for the Okinawan Karate & Kobudo World Tournament in 1997. As head of the JKF’s southern region, Okinawa fell within his area of oversight. It was, as always, great to see him again. He’s a wonderful man and great martial artist.

An interesting thing occurred during the finals. Mimoto San and his delegation were seated in a plush VIP section in the new Budokan. He saw me sitting in the stands and insisted I join him. After I was seated, he went to speak with someone. A U.S. instructor, originally from Japan (and known among insiders for his attitude and questionable versions of traditional kata), saw me and raced up the steps. He stopped beside me and said “You’re not supposed to be here!” Sensei Mimoto walked up and challenged him. “What do you want?” The instructor mumbled something about me sitting in the wrong place. Mimoto San told him brusquely that I was there at his invitation and it was no business of his. He quickly returned to his own seat.

Thanks for your patience. I will try to post more often.

When the Shah was overthrown...

I posted this on my Facebook page but I'm also posting it here in hopes it will get me rolling again in making regular blog additions. My apologies to those who already read this.

 

One of the great things about being an instructor in an international hub like Silicon Valley is the number of wonderful students you get to train, students from all parts of the world. But it can also have a downside. Near the end of the 70s, I had a great student from Iran. He was an engineering major at a local college but lived in the Sunnyvale Holiday Inn. Each month, he would pay me with a $100 bill. I learned his education and board was being paid for by the Iranian government. I can’t remember a student who worked harder than he did. He gave me a great respect for the Iranian people. He told us his name was George Wilson. I didn’t know much about Iran but knew Wilson wasn’t a normal name for someone from that part of the world. I questioned him about it and he told me I wouldn’t be able to pronounce his real name so he wanted to make it easy for everyone. I told him that he was my student and the least I could do was call him by his name, learning how to pronounce it if necessary. He told me his name was Reza Mohammad Razmkhah (sp?), which I made everyone call him. He came in one day as he was about to test for brown belt. He was clearly upset and told me it would be his last class. The Shah had been overthrown and he had been recalled to Iran. He left and I never learned if he lived or died. But I think often of him.

Happy holidays!

Sorry I've been so remiss in adding new posts. It's been a tough year. But almost have my novel finished, with the 2nd about 1/3 way through.

I'll try to get more posts up in 2013. One of the things that has also slowed me down is trying to decide what to post about. As a result, they've been all over the board. I began with a chronological look but got some negative feetback or silence. So I dropped that. (One of my original reasons for writing a blog was to do an autobiography a bit at a time. I thought my journey and observations about people and events and changes in the arts might be useful to later martial arts historians, so it wasn't left to people I know have not been objective or informed - as evidenced by my personal experiences with them relative to their reporting of my experiences.)

So, please let me know what you would like me to discuss and I'll try to get to it.

Jim

John Gehlsen - Part II

John Gehlsen fights an unknown opponent, with a
young Fumio Demura as referee and me as one of the corner judges.

If you could select one person to accompany you in what could be a deadly fight on the street, who would you pick? For some, they might think first of some of the karate greats. There’s an entire category of jokes about Chuck Norris and his imagined prowess. (“When the boogeyman goes to sleep, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.”) But having the skill to win at tournaments doesn’t always translate well to skill on the street in a serious, life-threatening fight.

For me, the person I would have selected back in the day would likely have been John Gehlsen or another old friend, Jim Harrison. Not only were both great tournament fighters but (because of their professions in law enforcement and the number of “death matches” they likely fought on the street when working undercover) they were perhaps even greater street fighters. (Professional Karate Magazine did a five-part series on Jim Harrison’s experiences several years ago. They were great reading. Hopefully, the articles are still available.)

(Just to put John’s skill in perspective, he generally bested his IKA dojomate Tonny Tulleners, who placed 3^rd at the first WUKO championships, won his black belt division at GM Parker’s tournament, etc. Tonny easily beat Chuck Norris all three times they met, when Chuck was at his peak. I saw most, if not all, of those matches and don’t remember Chuck ever even scoring a point on Tonny.)

It always struck me as a bit funny when Gehlsen and the other cops who trained at IKA headquarters would enter the changing room, remove their service revolvers, and lock them in their personal lockers. I, of course, realized that the people they often faced in the line of duty were armed. And I had no illusions about the likely outcome in karate versus gun battles. But it always made me chuckle nonetheless. Gehlsen with a pistol seemed something akin to Superman carrying one.

John was a bit of an acquired taste. He was hard to get close to and it took a while before I felt accepted by him. Something I had learned along the way was that many cops tended to divide the world into two types of people – cops and non-cops. (Cops and “Assholes” was actually how most phrased it.) This helped prevent emotion from making it difficult at times to do their jobs. If a person wasn’t a cop, he or she were often considered a perp who hadn’t yet been caught. (Many years later, I was asked by San Jose’s Chief of Police to speak to his captains about how to prevent their officers from abusing the power entrusted in them. And I looked at the side-effects of this view of the public, essentially the objectification of anyone they might have to confront.)

Once, I was at the dojo when a guy came in. He waited for someone to help him. John eventually strode over to the man and asked what he wanted in a less than welcoming tone. The guy answered that he was interested in learning karate. John told him they didn’t need any more students and the guy left. (The truth was they did need students at the time.) He looked fine to me. But that was John. He was a pure karateka. The guy hadn’t look serious enough to him or something.

John and I were talking once about his job. He told me about a fight he had gotten into a few years earlier while working undercover. He had gone in on a drug bust and chased one of the suspects into a high school shower room, where the guy tried to fight him and failed. John said he was at the supermarket recently, buying groceries, when a man approached him. “Do you remember me?” the man asked. John shook his head. The guy asked if he remembered the incident in the school shower room. John said “Yeah.” The guy asked, “Do you remember beating the crap out of the guy you arrested?” John said, “Yeah,” his voice and nervousness rising. The guy said “Well, I’m that guy.” John said “Yeah?!!” his hand going into his coat for his revolver. Then, the guys said, “I just wanted to thank you. Getting my ass kicked that bad made me straighten up. I never want that to ever happen again.” He offered his hand and John shook it.

I’ll likely write at least one more post on John before moving one. If anyone has any footage of John’s fights, please let me know. (I should have some but have yet to find it on the many films I shot years ago and Val later converted to DVD.) I intend to talk next time about his unique fighting style and tamashii.

John Gehlsen

John Gehlsen

One of the highest complements I ever received was “This guy could be good.” Now on the surface, it would not appear much of a complement. I was already 3^rd dan and had won a fair amount of sparring trophies by then. But it was the person saying it and his personal standard that made it special to me.

It was the late 60s or early 70s. We were at Soke Takayuki Kubota’s IKA Headquarters on Kenmore in Los Angeles, the same dojo where they filmed the dojo scenes for the movie, The Mechanic, with Soke, Charles Bronson, and Jan-Michael Vincent. I was in an advanced class that met on a Saturday or Sunday afternoons, forget which. Soke was taking us through a drill he called “Attack-Defense.” Each person had to await the spontaneous attack of an opponent, defend against it, and launch a successful counterattack. If the counter failed, you had to wait for your partner to attack again. This went on until your counter was successful. Then, you got another partner and repeated the drill.

I was paired off with John Gehlsen. I don’t remember his attack or what I did in response but it was John who said to Soke, “This guy could be good.” Although not many people outside Soke’s organization were aware of John’s skill, I considered him (both then and now) one of the toughest fighters ever trained in this country.

John was a tall, lanky, thick-boned man, who worked both undercover and regular duties for LAPD. I first met him at Ed Parker’s Internationals. It must have been around 1965. Soke Kubota had recently arrived in the U.S. and Ed invited him to demonstrate at his annual event, the largest and most prestigious tournament in the world at the time. (I think I spoke previously about that event.) John was only a green belt at the time.

When I hosted my first tournament, the U.S. Winter-National Karate Championships in San Jose the following year, I also invited Soke to demonstrate. He brought both John and Tonny Tulleners with him. Chuck Norris drove up with Chris Wells and one of his other students. And Bruce Lee also demonstrated. I had met Bruce through someone. I think it was a great, old Kung Fu friend, James Yimm Lee, but not sure. (Bruce lived with Jimmy when he first came to California.) In the finals, Chuck fought Roy Castro, GM Ralph Castro’s brother, for the grand championship and Chuck prevailed, winning his first grand championship.

John and Soke Kubota shared an apartment back then in Hollywood, on Vine Street, if I remember right. It was on the second floor and they used the large front room for the dojo. I would fly to LAX in the morning on my one day off. I’d rent a car, drive to Hollywood, take a private lesson from Soke, and participate in every class. Then, I’d take the long drive to LAX, catch the last flight to SFO, then drive the 40 miles to my home in San Jose. (I relate this story whenever someone tells me the dojo is too far from their home – usually 5 miles or less – to train with us.)

As I mentioned, John wasn’t known to many beyond Soke’s dojo. But in 1969, or thereabouts, he was asked to accompany an American team that Sensei Nishiyama assembled to compete against several university teams in Japan. A friend, who was a senior student of Sensei Nishiyama’s, went on the trip too. He told me that the Japanese treated John and most of our fighters with a degree of disdain much of the time until his first fight. John had been an alternate to the team and didn’t fight during the first couple of competitions. But when they finally put him in, his opponent refused to stop when John scored on him and kept trying to hurt John. So he drove the guy out of the ring, into the stands, and didn’t stop until the officials grabbed him. My friend said everyone in the large gym jumped to their feet and applauded. After that, he was treated with respect wherever he went.

In 1970, WUKO held its first World Karate Championships in Tokyo. The U.S. sent five teams, comprised of many of our top fighters at the time. John and Tonny Tulleners, also from Soke Kubota’s dojo, were on one of the teams. In the individual competition, Tonny tied for third with the legendary Dominic Valera. John didn’t make it to the finals but received one of the Outstanding Spirit (Tamashii) Awards distributed to the most respected fighters.

In 1972, the United States sent just one team to Paris for the second World Championships. John was selected to this team as well. This event was highly controversial. The U.S., Japanese, and several other teams walked out due to what friends termed the inadequate quality of the officials. (I heard they used judo, kendo, and/or aikido officials in matches – depending on who told me. But I wasn’t there so I’m not sure if any of this was true. I just know teams walked out.)

Well, enough for now. I’ll be writing more posts on John Gehlsen and what I learned from him. Thanks again for your patience and continued support.

Postscript: Here is a link for footage of Senseis Gehlsen, Smith, Tulleners, etc. at the team selection tournament for the 1972 WUKO World Karate Championships in Paris. There is a clip at the bottom of the DVD ad. http://www.empiremediallc.com/DVDs/1972%20World%20Karate%20Do%20Champ.html