Seconded, nicely done!
Originally Posted by DHNK
so what im getting here is that as punishment runningdog should become lazydog for his handle?
Less Runningdog, more MrBadGuy.
Oh wait, yea, I gotta post now!
Brazilian Jiu Jitsu Part 2: Tournament Fighter
The weeks came and went; I learned various techniques, and sparred against the instructor, or my friend. Since we both started at roughly the same time (2 week discrepancy), our matches were usually pretty good. What's more is, he awards us stripes on our white belts sporadically; we feel proud of our zebra belts. At around, I would guess, the 4th month, he tells us to wait after class. We stand around, kicking at the mats, when he brings in yellow belts. Yes, we had been promoted out of the blue. He told us he didn't believe in testing, and just awarded them whenever he thought we deserved them. I was a little put off by the fact that it could be years before I got promoted and I wouldn't know, but I wasn't going to complain about a freakin' yellow belt.
He explains that the belt system in BJJ is a little weird. Adults go White > Blue > Purple > Brown > Black, with stripes in between. However, since we were both under 16, we had to go White>Yellow>Orange>Green>Blue>Purple>Brown>Black, and we could only get blue when we turned 16. This sucked, hard, but I would continue my quest. I had come to love Jiu Jitsu, despite it's homoerotic vibes, and wanted to pursue the elusive black belt. Until then, I had to train.
One fateful day, about 6 months after I had started, the instructor shows up his usual 15 minutes late with big news. He tells us that there is going to be a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu tournament called "Smackdown at H-Town", and that we both should go. I'm a little nervous; recalling my previous tournament experiences, well, I expect massive amounts of bullshit. He tells us all we do is spar up there just like we do in class, and that the winners get not only a gigantic trophy, but a motorized scooter. Show me a 13 year old boy who wouldn't want one of those, and I'll show you a girl with a boy's haircut.
I ask him at the end of that class if there's anything I should do to get prepared, like running, etc. He replies, "Nah, not really. Your stamina gets built up pretty good from sparring; best way to get ready for jiu jitsu is by doing jiu jitsu!" I am not one to question his methods. For some reason, this idea of not doing anything outside of class gets embedded into my brain until I start Boxing.
The entry fee is a whopping 100 bucks. My little brother has decided not to compete out of nervousness and feeling unprepared. For a 6 year old, he was smart (He had a birthday during the 6 months). I am entering the junior devision, which is separated by a bunch of different weight classes that I don't really know or care about. I just want to spar.
I step on the scale; 180 pounds. I am pretty shocked. Shocked because I had just made it into the 183-170something range! I was at the top of the weight class, and was going to molest everyone else.
We're informed it's double elmination. I don't really care, because my stomach feels like I ate razorblades coated with acid. I'm extremely nervous, and want to get it over with.
The check in was at 8 in the morning; I finally get to spar at roughly 12. My ass is sore, and my legs have unstretched themselves. Those agonizing four hours were rough on my nerves, and I'm ready to roll. I step onto the mat; my opponent does as well. Oh what luck and joy! He's a white belt! I am not only going to school him, I'm going to win that damn scooter!
The match begins. We both circle each other, sizing each other up. He shoots, and I sprawl. He does some form of extremely quick madness, and suddenly I'm on the ground. Crap. "Two points!" He's in my guard; trouble is in store for him.
Or at least that's what I expected. I had a pretty decent guard; mostly because that's all the instructor ever taught. During sparring, our instructor would pull guard and tell us to try and pass; during class he'd focus mainly on guard sweeps and attacks. Passing the guard drills and elbow escaping were numerous. If anything, I was comfortable on my back.
Except he's not buding. He has turtled up, and won't try and pass. I can't sweep, I can't armbar, I can't triangle, I can't anything. I try a few crappy chokes, but he's grabbing his own collar.
"Fine then, I'll just get up", I think to myself. He has other plans, as he quickly scooches back into my guard. This continues for the remainder of the time and I lose. The final score is 0-2.
It's ok though. I've still got another match; it's double elmination, so as long as I win the next fight, I'll be sitting pretty.
My friend loses as well, to a man who employs many dirty tricks, including pulling fingers when nobody is looking. I will refer to him as "Finger breaker". He comes from the same school as the man I fought, but has recognizably more skill. They both wear whitebelts.
I wait for my next match, which is at 2 pm. I step onto the mat, and glare at my opponent. To my surprise, it is my friend! Yes, of all people, I must spar him. Our instructor sits quietly, not asking if we can have different partners.
The match starts, and it is back and forth. One of us will guard sweep the other, and then due to our lack of mount experience, quickly get elbowescaped on into the other person's guard. This goes back and forth the entire match. Luckily the clock and points are prominently displayed, and I see I'm down by 2 with 12 seconds left. I'm freaking out, because I'm in his guard. I've been trying to Gracie Gift, but it isn't working. Screw the gracie gift! I jam my hands into his gut, and push him away. I think this caught him by surprise and knocked the air out of him, because he unlocked his legs. I scuttle around him, and grab a side mount. I get 3 points for a guard pass, timer goes, and I win. He's a little pissy, but I don't really care. I got the win. I'm the winner, see my prize, you're the loser who sits and cries!
My next match it at 4, near the end of the tournament. It's against a 17 year old! I heard him arguing to get into the kids division, and I guess they let him in. I'm not looking forward to this. He is only a white belt; how bad can it be?
The match starts, I grab his sleeves, and he pulls guard. This is working out well. Almost too well! I cautiously begin to Gracie Gift my way out of his guard, and bam! He throws a triangle on me. I look to my corner for support, and my instructor is screaming "PASS PASS PASS!" I stack him to try and pass, then he suddently switches to an armbar! I have no choice, I have to tap. I tap, match over. No win. I did, however, get a third place trophy, as did my friend. The tournament ends with 17 year old versus Finger Breaker; Finger breaker wins the trophy, the scooter, and my dignity.
I'm a little pissed off when I go to the next BJJ class. The inadequate guard pass, the lack of non-guard position instruction, I wasn't happy. I get in there, about to give the instructor a piece of my mind, when he says to me, "You did great. As a reward, I think you're ready for the Advanced Kids. Here's two stripes for your yellowbelt." Holy ****. This is awesome.
Next time, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu Part 3: Mass Conversion
You can never really say you have your tournament merit badge without the special experience that is brazilian time. Readiness turns to anxiety turns to pants filling water-tortured brain fry. Maybe a constant flow of fabulous large booty destroys your ability to look at a clock once in a while, idk.
Originally Posted by MrBadGuy
It gets nigh unbearable, and incredibly boring since there wasnt A) Any chairs, or B) Carpet. Sitting on hard ass tile for a grand total of 8 hours is pretty craptastic.
The true hilarity is that the Adult division didn't start till about 2 or 3 pm, and finished late into the night.
LOL, keep up the good work........
Brazilian Jiu Jitsu Part 3: Mass Conversion
The tournament had passed, and I was halfway to orange belt. It would be an accurate statement to say I was excited. My excitement could not be contained in the class itself, and more often than not spilt into the streets.
A separate friend of mine, my same age and normal sized, had heard I started some kind of "kung fu thing" and wanted to spar. I go over to his house to find not only him, but many others. Some were my friends, some were his, some were mutual friends. I spar him, and tap him quickly with a triangle choke. All of the people there then proceed to freak out, because they thought that A) The triangle choke didn't look like a choke, B) BJJ stood for blow job jews, C) it was worthless, and D) they could beat me. I sparred them all, and won each time; one time I sparred a guy and his little brother at the same time (I put one in my guard, then managed to shoulder lock the other while squeezing the guts out of the original). After that we played some tekken, and everybody went home.
The next BJJ class was outrageous; almost everyone from the sparring session had shown up. I felt proud that I had enlightened some onto the awesomeness that was BJJ, and excited to soon have my own platoon of whitebelts below me. Unfortunately for them, they had shown up during the advanced kids class, and had to watch instead of participate. The advanced kids class consisted of myself, the friend who was 2 years older than I (henceforth reffered to as Napoleon), an indian kid (I will refer to him as Curry), and a small fat kid with glasses who looked remarkably like Harry Potter.
We practice moves, and finally it's time for sparring. First up is Napoleon with the instructor; instructor pulls guard, Napoleon tries to pass it for 3 minutes, nothing exciting. I'm paired with Curry.
Curry is a tall, lanky boy who happens to have a green belt with two stripes. I'm a little anxious since I'm only a yellowbelt, but I go out fearlessly. We begin on the knees, and I pull guard. I fail an armbar, and he hops to sidemount, then mount. Without wasting any time, he goes for the standard "grab each collar and pull" choke. I go for the Trap n' Roll, but it won't work. He doesn't give way like the instructor does when I sparred against him. I try again; nothing. I pull both his wrists away from my neck, and try Trap n' rolling to the other side; no luck. This continues for the rest of the match, and we're both tired. His forearms are tired from trying to pull, and my arms are tired from stopping his choke. We both stand up, and the instructor politely informs us that he would've won had that been a real match. Thanks.
My friends are hooting and laughing that I just lost. I will have to hurt them later.
I was actually okay with the entire ordeal. I learned that the Trap N Roll doesn't work, and that green belt guy was pretty good.
My friends sign up and are going to start in the beginner kids. I can't wait till they reach my class, so I can rape them for their taunts.
The next advance class I show up about 15 minutes early, and walk in the school. It is vacant, so being the investigative person I am, I adventure into his office area. I walk in to see him thumbing through a book with a picture of people doing jiu jitsu on it. He's mumbling to himself, but I can't hear him. I don't want to interrupt him, so I run into the mat room and start doing cartwheels for the hell of it. He hurredly scurries out and greets me.
"Let me get changed into my gi and then we'll start."
He walks into the bathroom and starts to change. I, on the other hand, sneak into his office. His book is face down, so that his place is saved. The page is one detailing how to perform what's called "Air Brazil", or an armbar from a monkey flip. The technique is someone stands in your guard, you put both of your feet on their stomach while holding on to their wrist. You airplane them into the air. Now, using one foot and your hands, spin them, and let them fall into an armbar.
I leave the room as I hear a toilet flush.
Minutes later Curry and Harry potter show up.
"Alright, this move is one that I learned back when I trained with Caique."
If you couldn't guess, he showed us the armbar from the feet on the stomach thing. I didn't know if this was coincidence or not, but I didn't like it.
The class finishes uneventfully, and next class I show up on time. The instructor is on the phone, and I motion I'm going to use the bathroom. He gives me the thumbs up.
I pee, then I sneak into his office again. I look at the book, and see omoplata from failed armbar.
That class we do omoplata from failed arm bar.
I'm thinking about confronting him on the matter, when he surprises me by saying I can go to the beginner adult.
I cease to care about why he needs to read the book to know what technique to teach, and am glad to join the ranks of real manly men.
Next time, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu Part 4: Contamination
Oh, you poor (fat) child.
I read an account similar from somebody who trained with... I don't remember who, some big fraud.
One day, he uses this instructor's bathroom at the instructor's house and notices the Tao of Jeet Kune Do in there. He starts leafing through it and discovers that his instructor was just going through the book, page by page.
If I were him, I wouldn't have flushed when I left.
Hmmmm. Every time you've wanted to quit he advances you...psychic much? Or just good at reading unfulfilled children.
Remember these are all approximate time frames; it probably happened a few days later.
Classes were only Tuesday Thursday at this point.
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