All this happened last night, so I thought I'd bang it down while it was still fairly clear in my head. I can't promise the dialogue's word for word, but it's approximately correct.
Judo's over. People are cooling down, and the mat's pretty full; we've attracted some new people tonight. I spy a fresh-faced white belt in a gi standing in a space by himself, hunched forward and making motions like a chimpanzee fighting an out-of-control steering wheel. He tilts backward alarmingly, growing increasingly bow-legged until his arse nearly scrapes the mat.
My curiosity piqued, I go over to have a word with him.
Me: "Hey, what's that you're doing there?"
Him: "Oh. I'm working on my leg grabs."
Me: "Show me."
He steps forward, puts one hand on the back of my thigh and the other somewhere on my upper arm and tries the steering wheel motion while standing mostly erect. It's apparent that nothing's happening.
Him: "I'm trying to work out a way of doing it where I don't fall over first."
He moves to my side and approximates the same motion from an even more awkward position.
Me: "Uh, from here we'd usually do a throw called tani-otoshi. Let me show you."
I demonstrate tani-otoshi, and then show him a double leg shoot, knees bent, my weight sunk. He makes a few comments on leg takedowns that I don't quite remember.
Me: "I'm no expert on takedowns, but I think this works quite well... hey, do you have a wrestling background?"
Him: "No, no. I do MMA."
He launches into an explanation of how he loves leg locks, and he's so sad he can't do them in judo. "And the triangle... is that legal in judo?"
For reasons too tangential to explain here, I'd been drilling my sangaku pretty hard that night. "Yes, we call it sangaku-jime. It's perfectly legal - in fact, I got it on about six times tonight."
(In retrospect, that question seems even more clueless when I remember that our coach had actually briefly touched on sangaku that night - with demonstration - as an option when getting us all to do our favoured ne-waza uchikomi).
In the changing rooms, the conversation continues. He complains about how tired he is, and how sore his neck is from people grabbing his gi. I grin, tell him he'll toughen up with time. And he needs toughening; out of his gi he looks pasty and unathletic.
Him: "One thing I found strange tonight - no-one in judo seems to sprawl when I go for a leg grab."
His chimpanzee-in-charge-of-a-steering-wheel technique crosses my mind, but I mention that we're getting more aware of them now we've got a Russian with us who tries them all the time. He talks about Pride a lot; apparently he idolises Fedor.
Heading up to the pub, I finally get round to asking how long he's been doing MMA.
Him: "Oh. Well, really, it's just me and my brother. We fight all the time. I'm not, you know, going anywhere for it."
Me: "Ah, I see."
Him: "I'm developing my own style, incorporating a lot of kung fu. I really like kung fu."
Me: "Yeah?"
Him: "My favourite is a style - I don't know if you've heard of it - called wing chun. It's really effective for the street, and it's got these very fast powerful punches down the centre called chain punches. Bam bam bam!" He makes some sort of piston movement with his hands.
It was a very Bullshido moment.
Summary for those who can't be bothered reading anything but the ending:
Doing "wing chun" + leg locks you've seen on TV with your brother = MMA.
Judo's over. People are cooling down, and the mat's pretty full; we've attracted some new people tonight. I spy a fresh-faced white belt in a gi standing in a space by himself, hunched forward and making motions like a chimpanzee fighting an out-of-control steering wheel. He tilts backward alarmingly, growing increasingly bow-legged until his arse nearly scrapes the mat.
My curiosity piqued, I go over to have a word with him.
Me: "Hey, what's that you're doing there?"
Him: "Oh. I'm working on my leg grabs."
Me: "Show me."
He steps forward, puts one hand on the back of my thigh and the other somewhere on my upper arm and tries the steering wheel motion while standing mostly erect. It's apparent that nothing's happening.
Him: "I'm trying to work out a way of doing it where I don't fall over first."
He moves to my side and approximates the same motion from an even more awkward position.
Me: "Uh, from here we'd usually do a throw called tani-otoshi. Let me show you."
I demonstrate tani-otoshi, and then show him a double leg shoot, knees bent, my weight sunk. He makes a few comments on leg takedowns that I don't quite remember.
Me: "I'm no expert on takedowns, but I think this works quite well... hey, do you have a wrestling background?"
Him: "No, no. I do MMA."
He launches into an explanation of how he loves leg locks, and he's so sad he can't do them in judo. "And the triangle... is that legal in judo?"
For reasons too tangential to explain here, I'd been drilling my sangaku pretty hard that night. "Yes, we call it sangaku-jime. It's perfectly legal - in fact, I got it on about six times tonight."
(In retrospect, that question seems even more clueless when I remember that our coach had actually briefly touched on sangaku that night - with demonstration - as an option when getting us all to do our favoured ne-waza uchikomi).
In the changing rooms, the conversation continues. He complains about how tired he is, and how sore his neck is from people grabbing his gi. I grin, tell him he'll toughen up with time. And he needs toughening; out of his gi he looks pasty and unathletic.
Him: "One thing I found strange tonight - no-one in judo seems to sprawl when I go for a leg grab."
His chimpanzee-in-charge-of-a-steering-wheel technique crosses my mind, but I mention that we're getting more aware of them now we've got a Russian with us who tries them all the time. He talks about Pride a lot; apparently he idolises Fedor.
Heading up to the pub, I finally get round to asking how long he's been doing MMA.
Him: "Oh. Well, really, it's just me and my brother. We fight all the time. I'm not, you know, going anywhere for it."
Me: "Ah, I see."
Him: "I'm developing my own style, incorporating a lot of kung fu. I really like kung fu."
Me: "Yeah?"
Him: "My favourite is a style - I don't know if you've heard of it - called wing chun. It's really effective for the street, and it's got these very fast powerful punches down the centre called chain punches. Bam bam bam!" He makes some sort of piston movement with his hands.
It was a very Bullshido moment.
Summary for those who can't be bothered reading anything but the ending:
Doing "wing chun" + leg locks you've seen on TV with your brother = MMA.
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