10/06/2010 5:15pm, #321
10/16/2010 11:31am, #322
- Join Date
- Jun 2009
More ninja-girl stories, less burger talk.
10/16/2010 12:10pm, #323
10/16/2010 7:16pm, #324
New title for this thread: "Food! Also, Some Stuff With MrBadGuy."
10/21/2010 9:49am, #325
Forever Fat, Part Three, Act Three: Limb from limb
I must warn you in advance, dear reader, that the following entry is out of format. I've tried to keep a linear timeline of my shenanigans and promptly failed, hence the creation of the simultaneously running Gaiden, but updating the main timeline during a Gaiden is a recipe for screwing things up. This specific entry spans my entire jiu jitsu career. What I'm trying to tell you is that this story is the next of the main bulk but has threads that run throughout FF1&2. I digress...
Once upon a time, (or rather, since I've told you this already, I guess it makes it Twice upon a time?), I trained with a very traditionalist BJJ instructor, also known as Penis Hands, due to his masturbation habits. It sickens me to use such a phrase as "traditionalist BJJ instructor", but it is what it is. The guy promoted street self defense, held a heavy emphasis on staying close to the BJJ taught by Helio Gracie, and a disgusted look towards the new advances in BJJ (I never learned of Butterfly guard, X-guard, De la Riva, or any of the like until much later, and I have some evidence he still follows the same curriculum. For those who aren't grappling savvy, these positions are now-a-days required reading in grappling).
Despite his metathesiophobia, he would allow these "sport" atrocities in his class. Some guys bought spider guard DVD's or the like, would introduce them into the mat environment, and evolution would take its course. There was, however, one absolutely, positively forbidden group of techniques: leg attacks. He refused to teach them and forbade their practice within his walls, and may our lord Jesus Christ have mercy on you if you went for one.
He filled our minds and hearts with propaganda: Foot locks are dangerous. The Achilles lock isn't a real submission, only pain compliance. Whenever you go for a leg lock, the other guy can too, so it's a gamble, and that's bad grappling. Leg lockers are dirty people. Leg locks give up position. Leg lockers suck at passing guard. In his day, if you went for a leg lock, people would throw shoes at you.
The take home message is, don't touch my feet you dirty fetishist. He actually managed to get a tournament to ban foot locks in the rules meeting (which was a lucky break, as none of us knew how to apply them, much less defend them).
For a long period of time, I accepted this as a truth, until I saw Genki Sudo.
Genki Sudo was my personal Jesus (don't get me wrong, he still is one of them, I call him my crazy dreadlocked Asian Jesus). His flair, combined with his total disregard of anything normal, would usually arouse a tingling in my body, like a stranger's fingers on your inner thigh.
Dancing and cart wheeling, I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. By this point I had been training with good instructor for a period of time, and like a girl with an overprotective father I wanted to kiss a boy. So to speak.
So, during rolling with a larger opponent, I wrapped a foot and fell back just like Genki. The only problem was, unlike Genki, I pulled the goliath into full mount. For the following month, each attempt led to the same result. Distraught and dismayed, I gave up on leg locks again. I had kissed a boy, but it turned out the boy had dirty breath, was a bad kisser, and had herpes of the mouth. Overall, an unpleasant experience.
As I blossomed into womanhood, Genki Sudo tapped out Butterbean with a heel hook, and I decided to give leg locks another chance. This time I asked my instructor, and he showed me the basics of knee bars and toe holds. He showed me an ankle lock where you wrap under the leg, on top of your other forearm, and then that arm on top of his shin (the figure four). I added in the Genki Sudo giant swing to ankle lock, and drilled everything diligently for four months. Eventually, slowly but surely, I found success. These leg locks were mere hand jobs in the grand scheme of things: clumsy, but effective. I was becoming more leg lock adventurous, but my successes were earned by many defeats, and one glimpse of happiness came after many hours of madness (also, much like hand jobs).
As most of you may or may not recall, I dropped off of the grappling scene to learn Drunken Boxing. Upon my return, I had a renewed vigor with leg locks. I YouTube leg lock videos all day long rather than study or work; some of these were gold nuggets, while many others were butt nuggets. After a long time of trial and error, I had a small number of leg locks I could pull off. My reputation (and ego) was boosted when I became the "leg lock guy" of my school. This only made me want to do leg locks more. To regretfully keep with my ill chosen young-woman-discovering-her-sexuality-theme, I was not only giving blowjobs, but I was KNOWN for my pleasuring abilities. I was blowing anybody who'd walk in the door, and they'd leave on their hands and knees. I was doing well.
Or so I thought. At the first Throwdown at H-town, I sparred with a certain Kyle teh Deadly, aka Notorious K-y-l-e, aka David Koresh Jr. He made me well aware that my leg lock defense was nonexistent, completely neutering my game all together. Likewise, at a Judo seminar, JnP crushed my ego more with a Texas cloverleaf/double ankle lock/whatever you want to call it. These two men would unfortunately only spurn on my studies in the game of leg locks, and I worked my defense like mad. There was still a part of me though, the nagging fatherly voice in the back of my head, telling me to hold back. To pass the guard and stop playing with those silly feet. That leg locks weren't viable in high level jiu jitsu. That I should wait until I was married.
I gave my body up to leg locks completely when I discovered Reilly Bodycomb's highlight reel
YouTube - Leg Locks for Sambo and No-Gi Grappling (2nd edition)
and Imanari's highlight reel
YouTube - Masakazu Imanari
I was totally taken in by these two heel tickling studs. They used me like Chinese finger cuffs, and I ate up every instructional video Reilly Bodycomb put out. My leg locks began to skyrocket as my attacks went from random skirmishes to establishing leg positioning and finishing the hold at my own leisure. This led to more taps, which boosted my leg locker image, which boosted my ego, which made me do more leg locks, which made me better, which led to more taps.
The money shot was when I ended my sojourn at my current gym. The instructor, a black belt, was sparring with me. He unwittingly left his foot exposed, and I jumped on it like a duck on a junebug. I stretched and applied all my womanly wiles, and eventually...tap.
I, a mere blue belt at the time, had tapped a black belt!
This podiatric orgasm was cut short by the realization I had surprise tapped a black belt with a foot lock, and I didn't know where he stood on them (no pun intended). If he got mad, I didn't have a leg to stand on (no pun intended). Would he put his foot down (no pun intended) with some kind of knee jerk reaction (no pun intended)? Had I just put my foot in my own mouth (no pun intended)? Or would he acknowledge my leg up on the common Joe (no pun intended)? Would he call me a heel (no pun intended), and if so, would he just be pulling my leg (no pun intended)? Was it my fault he couldn't keep instep with leg lock defense (no pun intended) and was being a calve led to slaughter (no pun intended)? I had chosen to attack his grappling game's Achilles heel (no pun intended) because I was head over heels for leg locks (no pun intended), but I never intended to step on the guy's toes (no pun intended) or put his feet to the fire (no pun intended).
My instructor showed his true colors by saying...Thank you? He was genuinely glad to have me using foot locks on him, he said, as his leg defense was lacking. He encouraged me to keep going for them, as it would make us both better. Truly, this man exemplifies my ideal BJJ instructor! Not only was he ok with foot locks, he wanted me to do them! Rather than hate on my technique, he chose to improve his own to defeet mine (no pun intended). Granted, he proceeded to tap me out one hundred ways to Sunday, but I was already in love by that point.
I continued training the way of the footsy, learned to interweave them with sweeps and passing, and just how to generally be a prick. At one point, a blue belt with stripes from a sister school came by to train, and we partnered up for sparring. We all know that blue belt is codeword for "Leg lockable" (and if you didn't, you do now), so I proceeded to my craft.
I locked in a tight heel hook, but hadn't started cranking. I applied my wrist to the back of his Achilles and crushed (without twisting my body) to emphasize that I had him. This, however, did not elicit the acknowledgement of defeat as I had expected. Instead, the man began to roll - THE WRONG WAY.
For those of you who aren't "in the know", there is a right way and a wrong way to roll during a heel hook. One way involves rolling with the pressure, and while it isn't advised, it is one method to relieve the pressure. The other direction is a one way ticket to exploded kneeville, population the fluid filled meat sack that now connects your thigh to your shin. So if you don't know, well now you know.
In an effort to save his knee, I leaned backwards to try and A) Let go, B) Straighten out his leg so the damage to the knee would be less, and C) Put enough pressure on the ankle to maybe get him to stop rolling (pulling up rather than across on a heel hook puts more pressure on the ankle than the knee, or so I've been told/seen/felt).
I received the response I wanted, namely, that he would stop rolling. He looked at me, as if ready to tap. I awaited the tap as I continued to pull up on his ankle. He looked me in the eyes, hands free, and continued to do nothing. I continued pulling upwards on his ankle. Our eyes remained connected. I continued pulling.
I let go, and with a "Holy hell man, are you okay?" regret flickers in his eyes. He waves me off, and says he's fine. He's still good to roll, his ankle does that, and he just needs to get some water. I let loose a breath of relief, and sit down.
He hobbles outside, and I see now that his ankle is in fact swollen. I email my instructor, apologizing for what happened, asking if he was okay, and what have you. As it turns out, the guy's ankle popped (he didn't go to the doctor, so we'll never actually know what was wrong with it), and he wasn't going to train for a few weeks. I felt like total ****, and was afraid my instructor might kick me out. Granted, yes, he should've tapped, but were leg locks dangerous? Had I followed this path of nuclear knee destruction, only to find that I've killed everyone around me with radiation poisoning?
The following day, my instructor gave a speech about the events that had transpired. He started off by saying that in BJJ, you should strive to be without an ego. In other words, when you're beaten, when you're in a submission, to tap rather than get hurt. No one counts gym wins, no one cares how many times you've tapped to so and so, just tap. Learn from it, start over, and have fun. Likewise, you shouldn't hurt your training partners. You know deep in your heart of hearts when you have someone in a submission. You know when just an extra inch of pressure is going to start putting the hurt on them. Lose your ego, let the man go, and keep working. No one cares if you win. No one cares if you lose. If you need to tap, tap and move on. If the guy isn't tapping for you, say "I got him" to yourself, let go, and move on. There is no reason for people to get hurt in BJJ if you lose your ego. We're all friends.
His speech hit me harder than Ike Turner. I had not only perpetrated a great wrong against a fellow grappling enthusiast, but I had also furthered the stereotype that leg lockers hurt people. Shamed like a 14 year old caught masturbating in the bathroom by his mom even though he explicitly said NOT to open the door, I realized I needed to change my ways. I had come full circle; from being a prude, uneducated young woman, to the town slut, to now a refined lady who didn’t just sleep with anybody but was still open to messing around if you were handsome or had a really, really cool car.
I solemnly vowed not to use my leg locks for evil ever again. I would play footsy for the glory of leg locks and to spread their smelly sock lint covered gospel.
That, and vanquishing any one that stood before me.
Pun, ladies and gentlemen, very much so intended.
Next Time! Forever Fat, Part Three, Act Four: Orgasmatron
10/21/2010 10:25am, #326
Once again very entertaining. Leg locks are an evil tool like any in the hands the wrenching dolts who do not wait for tapping and proceed to **** up your leg in one, fast motion. Incidentally these are the same guys that **** up your shoulders, elbows and other joints too. Otherwise they are fine.
You leg locking son of a whore.Curiosity killed the cat. But damn it had a blast.
10/21/2010 11:54am, #327
10/21/2010 11:54am, #328
- Join Date
- May 2002
Reilly moved to Texas to teach in Guy Metzger's gym.Now darkness comes; you don't know if the whales are coming. - Royce Gracie
KosherKickboxer has t3h r34l chi sao
In De Janerio, in blackest night,
Luta Livre flees the fight,
Behold Maeda's sacred tights;
Beware my power... Blue Lantern's light!
10/21/2010 12:32pm, #329
there is a blue belt in my gym who catches me with leglocks from time to time. he seems to have developed leg attacks better than just about anyone there. i make sure i roll with him often to help improve my defense.
(and i'm going to murder him in his sleep)
10/21/2010 2:46pm, #330
- Join Date
- Dec 2007
- Richmond, VA
Lol very nice MBG! I have to attest his game of footsy is quite developed. Every time we roll he catches me atleast once. Also his instructor is a cool guy always friendly always rolls with me and gives advice when I come to visit. MBG has become a pretty good teacher in his own right, I've used some of the things he's shown me to win comps. Oh dear, I'm gushing like a school girl...