Those who can, spar. Those who can’t, do kata – Part VIII

It’s obviously critical for a sparring coach to have a thorough knowledge of the rules. They must, in fact, know them at least as good as those who will judge their athletes. So all national coaches were required to become certified as officials within the WUKO/WKF system, at least at the regional level. Certification in sparring required coaches to essentially memorize the extensive WUKO/WKF rule book in order to pass the written test. (The better they scored on the test, the more ready they were perceived to be to lead one of our national teams into international competition.) Then, they had to judge kumite matches to the satisfaction of a panel of high level referees.

Becoming certified as a kata judge was much more difficult.

Since the first task of a kata judge is to evaluate a competitor’s knowledge of his/her kata, candidates had to possess a strong knowledge of not only the 22 approved kata but also any a finalist might choose to perform as their open, third round kata.

They were also required to take a written test, based on the WUKO/WKF kata rules. Then, they were asked to judge the kata performances of ten athletes. Their order of finish, first through fifth placement, had to be very close to that of a panel of senior officials. Next, they had to go before a board of senior dan grades, who questioned them about their knowledge of kata. And, finally, they had to perform whatever kata the board selected. It was this last requirement that proved the most scary and often humbling for most candidates.

As I’ve mentioned, Hanshi Anderson claimed that, besides being an encyclopedia of your system, kata represented a karateka’s credentials. The number of kata one knows, the quality of their ability to perform them, and their ability to clearly demonstrate the self defense elements contained within them, become their credentials – proof of their rank.

But he also said those who could pass the kata judge’s exam became “certified as competent in their art. Those who can’t pass the test are certified as being incompetent in their art.”

On a couple of occasions, Hanshi Anderson asked me to sit on evaluation boards to examine PUKO kata judges for certification. Those who came before us were mostly medium to high dan grades. But regardless of rank, everyone was extremely nervous.

If someone asks us about our qualifications as martial artists, we can tell them about our years of training, who we trained with, mention our rank and titles. We can show them trophies won, rank certificates, course completions, articles on us, and awards received. But on the floor, in front of people judging our every move down to the most subtle nuance, we are laying it all on the line. There was no place to hide. One sensei, a 7^th dan and the head of a major style in a significant country, got so nervous he started having chest pains. We had to stop the test and get him medical help. One ran off the floor to throw up. Another forgot to kiai. Very few made no major mistakes.

I always remind my students that our true rank is not necessarily what we wear around our waist. It is more likely closer to what people who don’t know us or anything about us would judge us to be if we put on a white belt and joined a class. A black belt would look like a black belt. A high dan would look like a high dan. If no one noticed any difference between us and the beginners around us, then we’re likely far lower in rank (knowledge and ability) than we think.

Just my two cents. Thanks again for reading my humble ramblings.

Those who can, spar. Those who can't, do kata - Part VII

I’m continuing my look at some of the things I discovered along the way while a national coach and head of the National Coaches Education Committee – as well as my travels around the world – about bringing my students’ katas up to a high competitive standard. (I’ll soon be getting into the other side of the kata coin, what I’ve learned about the self defense applications hidden within them.)

Each action within a kata should be executed with as much acceleration and power as can be mustered. But then, it must all be brought to a full and abrupt stop. I tell my students not to contaminate action with inaction or inaction with action. When they attack, I want them to hold nothing back. And when they stop, I want them to freeze immediately and lock everything in place.

If they don’t come to a full and complete stop, it gives each action a soft edge, like trying to stop Jello – you may stop the plate but the Jello keeps moving, blurring the line between movement and stoppage. I want them to create a clear and distinct line between movement and non-movement and between non-movement and movement, as fine and sharp as a razor blade, or the blade of a katana. The Japanese refer to this brief but complete halt after each action as a “dynamic stoppage”.

Hanshi George Anderson put all this more succinctly: “When you move, move. And when you stop, stop.”

Stopping movement also includes stopping or diminishing it in their gis, belts, and hair. Top competitors generally wear a heavyweight gi, or starch their lighter weight ones. Softer, lightweight materials tend to continue to move a bit after the student stops, making their actions look softer, less precise. Top women’s competitors often tie their hair in a French Braid, so their hair moves as little as possible, and stops when they stop. A very long belt will tend to move more and longer than a shorter one. (And be sure they tie their belts so each side is the same length. Imprecision here indicates to a judge even before a student begins that their kata performance will likely be equally imprecise.)

When I evaluate a kata performance, I always ask myself, “If they were executing that particular technique on the street, would it be effective?” Would a block actually stop a focused kick or punch? (Would it be fast and powerful enough and executed in a manner that would make it effective?) Would a punch have sufficient power and focus to break through an opponent’s block or deflection attempt and still possess enough force and extension to penetrate their opponents’ protective layers of muscle and bone and do damage to internal organs?

I also look for extension. If you watch a top gymnast, ballet dancer, or ice skater, you will often hear the announcer note that a particularly good performance possessed good extension. This means they extended every action as far as that limb would go. This gives each technique a more aesthetically pleasing line. But, more importantly, it enables them to deal with an opponent at a further, more safe distance.

Old photo where I was attempting to get as much power
and extension as I could get out of a sidekick.

In a knifehand block or strike, for example, I want their hands and fingers made perfectly straight and maximally stretched. In every stance, their necks and backs need to also be made perfectly straight, as if sitting in a straight-back chair, with the feeling that someone was pulling their heads upwards by the hair.

Thanks again for your support and reading my humble ramblings, Jim

Those who can, spar. Those who can’t, do kata – Part VI

Some instructors view kata as strictly for self defense purposes. They argue that true kata wasn’t meant for competition, considering it a misguided and useless goal, holding that only those who discover and practice the “original” bunkai of the kata can call themselves true students of the art.

Others see things quite differently, choosing to offer their students the option of competing against others in an open arena. They may require even those with no desire to compete to perform their kata up to a competitive standard for promotion, seeing great intrinsic value in the mental and spiritual qualities their students gain through this type of very disciplined approach. These qualities include precision, perseverance, and self control, which can better arm their students against negative peer pressure and unhealthy lifestyles.

I don’t see these two – bunkai versus competition – as mutually exclusive, as some seem to do. I teach both to my students, offering them the great benefits of each.

For me, kata reveals a karateka’s degree of mastery over him/herself – physically, mentally, and spiritually. Physical mastery is seen in the power, explosiveness, extension, and precision of their techniques; their stamina, the lowness of their stances; and so on. Mental mastery is seen in their focus, continuity, and attention to detail. And spiritual mastery is seen in the intensity of their actions, the fire in their eyes, their zanshin or readiness to continue fighting at the end of a long, tiring kata, and so on.

When a new black belt student transfers to my dojo, one of the first things I’ll do is run everyone in the class – including him or her – through kata. I start with Heian Shodan and go right up the list to as high as the new black belt claims to know or should know for his/her rank. I don’t set it up as a test, just everyone practicing kata so the newcomer will execute his kata naturally. I try not to let him/her know I’m watching, as this will likely make them either nervous or try too hard. But I’ll check their performance closely in the mirror. At the end, I’ll have a pretty good idea of what should be their true rank. Sometimes, they should probably be ranked higher than they are. I’ll make a mental note to test them in the near future for advancement. In others, they should probably be ranked lower and I’ll try to get them up to level as quickly as possible. (If they come from a school where they practice primarily bunkai based kata, their understanding of the self defense implications of each action will be clearly demonstrated in how they execute them and reveal their approximate rank.)

Hanshi Anderson claimed that ones knowledge of the kata within his or her system became their credentials – their proof of rank.

To rise to the top, kata competitors have to develop extremely well conditioned and toned bodies – much like a gymnast. We discussed this a bit in my last post. But they also must possess (or develop) the ability to focus an extremely high degree of attention to the most minute of details – like a ballet dancer. And on top of all this, they must also master the kata and the kihon utilized within it.

There are specific things a competitor can do to raise their kata to a higher, competitive level. I’ll begin a look at some of these in my next post.

Just my 2 cents.

Again, thanks for your continued support and for reading my humble ramblings.

Sorry for going walkabout

I'll have another post up soon. I have one almost finished but not happy with it yet. I've been asked to possibly write the filmscript for a significant non-fiction book that will likely soon be a best seller. So I've had to focus most of my attention on that. Thanks for your patience.

Food for thought.

"My neck is clean and ready for the sword." - old Japanese saying.

WKF World Medal of Excellence

I was told I need to pass this on to you guys, as many aren't on Facebook. I somehow was selected to receive the World Kubokan Federation's World Medal of Excellence. My initial goal in karate was to see if I could get as high as 3rd Dan and would have died a happy, fulfilled man with just that. But this truly humbles me. I don't have words to express my gratitude. As I mentioned on FB, I think I just outlived all the really good guys.

Here's a link to Hanshi Ronnie Colwell's great organization. If you're not a member, it's non-style, non-political. All martial artists are welcome as brothers and fellow travelers along the budo path. http://www.worldkobukan.com/medal.html.

Thank you, Hanshi Colwell and the WKF for this great honor, Jim

Those who can, spar. Those who can’t, do kata – Part V

WUKO/WKF kata competition was comprised of three rounds. Each of the organization’s 144 member countries at the time was allowed to enter two kata competitors. So there could be as many as 288 in kata division. (Although that never actually happened, most countries entered at least one competitor.) Such a large field obviously needed to be whittled down quickly or we would have been there for weeks.

The first round cut the huge field down to just the top 16 competitors. The second round cut it further to the top 8. And the final round determined the order of finish, from first through eighth.

The kata a competitor performed during the first two rounds had to be selected from a list of 22 traditional Japanese/Okinawan kata. (This is why the division was also referred to as “Mandatory Kata”.) The kata selected for the final round was of the competitor’s choosing. It could be outside the 22 on the required list but still had to be a known traditional kata.

Unlike open tournaments, where competitors are often judged by their athletic and choreographic ability, competitors in traditional Japanese/Okinawan kata competition are judged on their ability to precisely perform kata created a hundred or more years ago by some of our greatest masters.

In old Olympic Ice Skating competition, competitors had to perform “Compulsory Figures”, in addition to their free skating programs. Various geometric designs were dyed into the ice. Then, competitors had to skate as close as they could to each of the thin design lines. Judges would get down on the ice with rulers to check the lines etched in the ice by the skaters’ skate blades and calculate which skater followed the lines the most precisely, meaning they had attained the greatest level of mastery over their skates. Scores from compulsory figures made up a significant portion of their final scores.

And this type of assessment also occurred in other Olympic sports. Compulsory dives are also required in Olympic Diving, compulsory routines in Olympic Ice Dancing, and compulsory routines in Olympic Gymnastics. These offer a very exact and accurate (side by side) method by which to judge the comparative technical skills of their competitors.

Kata competition in traditional Japanese/Okinawan kata is much the same. It’s a competitor’s ability to stay true to the kihon (karate basics), the proper sequence of techniques, and embusen (or kata line of travel), but also to do so with the utmost of speed and power, that makes for a great performance.

The Japanese were pushing at that time for WUKO/WKF to enact their much stricter standard. In Japan, they required competitors to perform kata selected from a list of only 8 approved kata. And each of the eight had to be performed exactly as specified, without any style or organizational variations allowed. These were called Shitei Kata. To assist competitors and coaches learn these exact versions, the Japan Karate Federation (JKF) published books and produced DVDs on the correct renditions of each of the eight mandatory kata, and sent out certified instructors to teach them. But WUKO/WKF didn’t accept that approach, at least not while I was active.

Here’s a link for the Shitei Kata. http://karatereferee.com/shiteikatas.php

I always evaluated a competitive kata performance based on five levels of mastery. The first level was Memorization. Did the competitor know the kata? If he made a mistake, or left out, added, or changed anything, the policy of the national and world organizations were that a competitor received a score of zero as he didn’t perform the kata. (He only performed something like the kata.)

Much like the password to your computer, a kata was either all right or it was wrong. You can’t leave out, add, or change even one digit when entering your password or you won’t be allowed access.

The second level of mastery was Kihon. Was his kihon (basics) performed correctly, almost correctly, or not even close? Was his back straight, his feet at the right width and depth and pointed according to standard, etc. On every single move, there could potentially be many kihon errors – a slight bend in the wrist, leaning a bit forward at the waist, one stance not matching the same when done later in the kata, left side stances and techniques not being symmetrical with those on the right, etc. The top competitors made few kihon errors but I never witnessed a performance that didn’t contain at least one. But even if there were kihon errors, a competitor would receive a score if he executed his flawed kihon in the proper sequence and followed the correct embusen for the kata.

The third level of mastery was Dynamic Kihon. Did he not only perform the kihon correctly but were his techniques executed with greater speed, power, extension, and stability, elevating his performance above the average for a competent black belt?

Fourth was Self Defense Awareness. Did he perform those often subtle little actions that demonstrated he understood the self defense application of each move?

And the fifth level of mastery was Spontaneity. Did he know the kata so thoroughly that he didn’t need to attend mentally to each move, yet each was performed flawlessly? The Japanese call this muga, perfection without awareness.

To realistically expect to win anything, a competitor had to have reached at least the 3^rd level of mastery, but more likely the 4^th.

In my next installment, I’ll look at things I learned to assist students develop this level of precision. And I'll also describe a referee's examination so scary it made more than one leave to throw up and forced us to call the paramedics because it stressed out one high level master so badly he started having bad chest pains.

Thanks again for your support and reading my humble ramblings.