Kungfoolss
6/29/2003 12:33am,
We ken about kendo
GARY SUTHERLAND
Sun 29 Jun 2003
WHEN you are up against the combined might of the Japanese riot police and the Korean army, it is a safe assumption that you are up against it. That is the enticing prospect in store for two Scots, key figures in the Great Britain team for the 12th World Kendo Championships, which get under way in Glasgow on Friday, the first time Scotland has hosted such an event. George McCall and Gillian Riddoch are serious about kendo. It is their art and it is their sport, and it takes up a fair chunk of their lives, not that they complain. They practise kendo out of love, and are smitten. That they are being granted the opportunity to don their kendo masks and armour and arm themselves on what amounts to home turf makes them a little more excited.
Kendo means "the way of the sword", but these days they do not wield real swords, but shinai, which are made from bamboo. Kendo, which is of military origin, has been in existence in some shape or form for hundreds of years, the earliest reference to Japanese swordsmanship dating from the seventh century. You need your dojo (clubroom), your do (essential armour), your men (face mask) and kote (padded gloves). Not forgetting, of course, your shinai, which you would not wish to be without in combat. Demands on the combatant are physical and mental. Muscle is not so important - kendo exponents come in all shapes and sizes - but posture, poise and concentration are. As is a common etiquette. We are dealing here with an ancient Japanese tradition. Kendo attacks the head, the wrists, the torso. It’s not dangerous, yet togged up in that gear your average enthusiast looks damned menacing. Still, they are not out to kill rivals; ultimately, in competition, it’s about points for a hit. Matches consist of three points and last five minutes. Two points win the match, and it can move into sudden death, but no-one meets their demise, not in the real sense.
McCall caught the kendo bug in 1994 at Napier University, Edinburgh. He was into judo and aikido, but found that kendo was for him: "I never wavered." His job in computers has spirited him to New York, London and Japan, where he will return this summer to live. There was the job in Bermuda, but taking it would have left a kendo-sized hole in his life. Kendo proficiency takes years, and McCall reckons that he became truly proficient only last year. He is a member of the Edinburgh Kendo Club, one of two dojo in Scotland, the other residing in Glasgow. Early this week, the British team for the world championships are in Oban, to prepare, to chill, to switch off mobile phones, switch on the Playstation and practise kendo. McCall wonders how the Londoners in the team will cope with the midges. "Tough luck," he laughs. On Wednesday, they will travel to Glasgow and the Kelvin Hall. They are sporting new team jackets, and the men will be featuring fresh haircuts (No.2s).
His first-round rivals will include a Danish competitor that he has met before - "I think I’ll take him" - and a Hawaiian with a Japanese name. "He could be tough. He’s probably been doing it since he was a kid. But that doesn’t frighten me. Bring it on." The Japanese team (the riot police) are "just an A list of stars". They are rarely, if ever, beaten. Only Korea come close, and the Japanese and Koreans (the army conscripts) train every day for a living. McCall explains that competition is not the true philosophy of kendo, and he is honest in suggesting that it is not an ideal spectator sport; the nuances are not that easy to pick up on. "You’ve got to hit the right place, and you’ve got to mean it, and that’s a difficult thing to judge. It can’t be luck: the intent’s got to be there. The ultimate match is one with not a lot of scrapping, then bang, something happens. You will see that at these world championships." The men’s team are a young outfit after an overhaul three years ago. McCall thinks that they will get past the early rounds; in fact, there need not be any doubt about that. The key is realising the effort that has been put in so far. With bronze success at the past two European championships, the women can be confident, but it will be hard with Japan, Korea, the United States and Canada in the mix. Riddoch, the women’s captain, an engineer who lives in Newcastle, is eager for the kendo and homecoming.
"To have the championships here is phenomenal," she says as we chat in a Glasgow hotel. "I’m getting a bit excited... another week, and I’ll be hitting the ceiling." Like McCall, she found kendo at university in Edinburgh, accepting an invitation from a friend to watch a demonstration. "I just thought I had to try. It looked fantastic." That was 12 years ago, she has been competing for seven, and has served as captain for two. Kendo has provided her passport to destinations such as Hungary, Italy, Switzerland and, of course, Japan. Riddoch is happy to explain away the intricacies of kendo and offers this summary: "You can stand with a stick and hit anywhere, but there would be no art form in that." The captain hopes that her team can negotiate a few rounds and reach the last eight. The luck of the draw is a major factor. Initially they face New Zealand and Norway, and after that it may be their Japanese counterparts.
I ask Riddoch some first-timer questions about kendo. to which she responds patiently. Is it dangerous? Aside from "the odd bump or bruise", apparently not. The armour does its job - protect. What are the most useful abilities? "Everything! Though it is concentration more than anything else. Against someone who is evenly matched and has the same level of fitness and the same level of skill, then whoever loses their concentration first will go." The captain takes to the arena last in the five-strong team. Riddoch says that the first team member is vital for setting the tone to the tie: such individuals must be "gutsy." The final pair, including her, may be required to be more tactical, adapting their goals depending on whether the team need another win, or perhaps a draw is sufficient for overall victory. Is it hot in all that gear? The kendo armour is "hot and heavy", says Riddoch, but everyone is in the same boat. Everyone must also lose some of their peripheral vision because of the masks.
For the white heat of competition Riddoch contemplates the danger of being caught cold. "As long as I don’t freeze," she laughs, contemplating the moment that she steps out before numerous family members and friends expected to attend the event. "It’s going to be a huge adrenalin rush, but I’m not going to freeze. It’s going to be amazing." Several hundred competitors from more than 40 countries will be in Glasgow until the traditional Sayonara party at the end of the weekend, when a ceilidh will also be held. Kelvin Hall will have turned Japanese.
http://www.scotlandonsunday.com/sport.cfm?id=710062003
GARY SUTHERLAND
Sun 29 Jun 2003
WHEN you are up against the combined might of the Japanese riot police and the Korean army, it is a safe assumption that you are up against it. That is the enticing prospect in store for two Scots, key figures in the Great Britain team for the 12th World Kendo Championships, which get under way in Glasgow on Friday, the first time Scotland has hosted such an event. George McCall and Gillian Riddoch are serious about kendo. It is their art and it is their sport, and it takes up a fair chunk of their lives, not that they complain. They practise kendo out of love, and are smitten. That they are being granted the opportunity to don their kendo masks and armour and arm themselves on what amounts to home turf makes them a little more excited.
Kendo means "the way of the sword", but these days they do not wield real swords, but shinai, which are made from bamboo. Kendo, which is of military origin, has been in existence in some shape or form for hundreds of years, the earliest reference to Japanese swordsmanship dating from the seventh century. You need your dojo (clubroom), your do (essential armour), your men (face mask) and kote (padded gloves). Not forgetting, of course, your shinai, which you would not wish to be without in combat. Demands on the combatant are physical and mental. Muscle is not so important - kendo exponents come in all shapes and sizes - but posture, poise and concentration are. As is a common etiquette. We are dealing here with an ancient Japanese tradition. Kendo attacks the head, the wrists, the torso. It’s not dangerous, yet togged up in that gear your average enthusiast looks damned menacing. Still, they are not out to kill rivals; ultimately, in competition, it’s about points for a hit. Matches consist of three points and last five minutes. Two points win the match, and it can move into sudden death, but no-one meets their demise, not in the real sense.
McCall caught the kendo bug in 1994 at Napier University, Edinburgh. He was into judo and aikido, but found that kendo was for him: "I never wavered." His job in computers has spirited him to New York, London and Japan, where he will return this summer to live. There was the job in Bermuda, but taking it would have left a kendo-sized hole in his life. Kendo proficiency takes years, and McCall reckons that he became truly proficient only last year. He is a member of the Edinburgh Kendo Club, one of two dojo in Scotland, the other residing in Glasgow. Early this week, the British team for the world championships are in Oban, to prepare, to chill, to switch off mobile phones, switch on the Playstation and practise kendo. McCall wonders how the Londoners in the team will cope with the midges. "Tough luck," he laughs. On Wednesday, they will travel to Glasgow and the Kelvin Hall. They are sporting new team jackets, and the men will be featuring fresh haircuts (No.2s).
His first-round rivals will include a Danish competitor that he has met before - "I think I’ll take him" - and a Hawaiian with a Japanese name. "He could be tough. He’s probably been doing it since he was a kid. But that doesn’t frighten me. Bring it on." The Japanese team (the riot police) are "just an A list of stars". They are rarely, if ever, beaten. Only Korea come close, and the Japanese and Koreans (the army conscripts) train every day for a living. McCall explains that competition is not the true philosophy of kendo, and he is honest in suggesting that it is not an ideal spectator sport; the nuances are not that easy to pick up on. "You’ve got to hit the right place, and you’ve got to mean it, and that’s a difficult thing to judge. It can’t be luck: the intent’s got to be there. The ultimate match is one with not a lot of scrapping, then bang, something happens. You will see that at these world championships." The men’s team are a young outfit after an overhaul three years ago. McCall thinks that they will get past the early rounds; in fact, there need not be any doubt about that. The key is realising the effort that has been put in so far. With bronze success at the past two European championships, the women can be confident, but it will be hard with Japan, Korea, the United States and Canada in the mix. Riddoch, the women’s captain, an engineer who lives in Newcastle, is eager for the kendo and homecoming.
"To have the championships here is phenomenal," she says as we chat in a Glasgow hotel. "I’m getting a bit excited... another week, and I’ll be hitting the ceiling." Like McCall, she found kendo at university in Edinburgh, accepting an invitation from a friend to watch a demonstration. "I just thought I had to try. It looked fantastic." That was 12 years ago, she has been competing for seven, and has served as captain for two. Kendo has provided her passport to destinations such as Hungary, Italy, Switzerland and, of course, Japan. Riddoch is happy to explain away the intricacies of kendo and offers this summary: "You can stand with a stick and hit anywhere, but there would be no art form in that." The captain hopes that her team can negotiate a few rounds and reach the last eight. The luck of the draw is a major factor. Initially they face New Zealand and Norway, and after that it may be their Japanese counterparts.
I ask Riddoch some first-timer questions about kendo. to which she responds patiently. Is it dangerous? Aside from "the odd bump or bruise", apparently not. The armour does its job - protect. What are the most useful abilities? "Everything! Though it is concentration more than anything else. Against someone who is evenly matched and has the same level of fitness and the same level of skill, then whoever loses their concentration first will go." The captain takes to the arena last in the five-strong team. Riddoch says that the first team member is vital for setting the tone to the tie: such individuals must be "gutsy." The final pair, including her, may be required to be more tactical, adapting their goals depending on whether the team need another win, or perhaps a draw is sufficient for overall victory. Is it hot in all that gear? The kendo armour is "hot and heavy", says Riddoch, but everyone is in the same boat. Everyone must also lose some of their peripheral vision because of the masks.
For the white heat of competition Riddoch contemplates the danger of being caught cold. "As long as I don’t freeze," she laughs, contemplating the moment that she steps out before numerous family members and friends expected to attend the event. "It’s going to be a huge adrenalin rush, but I’m not going to freeze. It’s going to be amazing." Several hundred competitors from more than 40 countries will be in Glasgow until the traditional Sayonara party at the end of the weekend, when a ceilidh will also be held. Kelvin Hall will have turned Japanese.
http://www.scotlandonsunday.com/sport.cfm?id=710062003