April 2, 2013

• 50:1

  Today, during standup sparring at judo, I got paired succsssively with a green belt, a brown belt, and then a blue belt.  The green belt and the brown belt just threw me to death. I am not kidding when I say that I got thrown at least 40 times by them combined in about 15 or 20 minutes... if that sounds like a lot, well, it's because I get up quickly.  It's not easy, but if I'm good at nothing else, I get up quickly, no matter how much of a beating I take.  All of my opponents were heavier and taller than me-- the green belt was probably five inches taller than me and outweighed me by about 20 pounds at least.  The brown was only a few inches taller than me, but outweighed me by about 40 pounds.  And the blue was about a foot taller than me, and outweighed me by about 20 pounds.

  All three of them just had so much upper body strength.  It's one thing to practice a throw in technical training, where the partner is compliant-- but when he's against you in randori (sparring), it's a whole other story.  With their superior strength, all three of my opponents were able to get to their dominant positions with dominant grips and just basically do whatever they wanted to me.  It was frustrating, as it always is, to basically be thrown the same way several times in a row but not be able to do anything about it, even if you know it's coming.  But what should I expect? Not only are they physically stronger, but their ranks are higher-- they have the physique and the technique that outclasses mine, so I shouldn't expect much without paying my dues.

  The truth is, since I started judo, I've never really managed to pull off a single really satisfying throw-- a really clean one where I really felt "Yeah, I really got him!"

   

  Until tonight!

   

  I was going against the blue belt.  I was pretty exhausted at this point so I was eating more mats than anything, and the instructor told me plainly-- "Do you know why this is happening? You're letting him get that dominant position all the time.  Don't fight the throw when he's throwing you-- you already know how that turns out.  Why don't you try and prevent that grip?"

  Well, easier said than done!  Did I mention the blue belt was one freaking foot taller than me?  His sweeping range is like a foot and a half longer than mine, and when I'm in close, it's like my legs are being chopped out by a sledgehammer.

  But I took the instructor's advice-- instead of fighting the throws, I started fighting his establishment of his favourite grip.  Another blue belt was saying that I was being too passive-- just being satisfied with trying to survive, rather than attacking.  I guess that's true-- so I started really trying to get in and attempt to establish grips for my 'favourite' throws while preventing his.

   

  Which, really, opened up a whole new bunch of dimensions to my play.  It was interesting-- because at some point, I managed to clear his right arm (which he normally used for a behind my collar grip, for hip throws and uchi matas).  I had his left sleeve, and before I knew it, I just went for it.  I attempted to pull him forward while spinning into him for an ippon seoi nage-- a shoulder throw-- but I could feel that my pull wasn't strong enough and that even though I had caught him off guard, my momentum was wanning.  It was impossible to add more forward pull to load him on my back from that position... so I just had some sort of reflex to drop down on my knees and use the sudden downwards pull to shift him more forward.

  The throw actually failed, because he didn't go over my shoulder-- but he did fall slide over my back and land in a pushup.

  "Good try!" he said.  "I think in that position, that was the right move to try."

  I felt pretty good about that.  The last time I sparred with this guy last week, I never even got close to attempting an actual throw, I was so busy trying to stay on my own feet.

  There was something about the way that I used that pull to make him bend over, combined wtih my getting under him that took advantage of his height.  It might've been an epiphany, but I still don't know how to really apply that feeling of a bit of a window opening up, so I can't say I really figured it out yet.

  But I do know that after that, he was guarding against me getting too close, and preferred to take me with "longer range" throws where he could use his long legs and arms.   By this, I mean throws where he uses sweeps, tripping and kicking throws to really scoop or tip me over, since I think my height made it hard for him to squat under me anyway.

  I decied to see if I could use this to my advantage, and with a few tweaks, I pulled it off.  I attempted the same throw that I almost landed earlier.  As I was trying to lock his arm to control his left shoulder for the throw, he wheeled around slightly clockwise around me.  I converted my seoi nage-- by uncurling my spin, I turned turned his backwards resistance into a kosoto gake ("small outside hook").  Actually-- I'd only ever seen this technique done in other peoples' randoris.  I'd never been taught this technique... but somehow, it worked!

  It just so happend that the instructor was watching, and he said "Good one!"

  And it did feel good.  For the rest of the night, I was thrown, choked and pinned, but at least, they could not take back that one genuine ippon.

  It's just the first. Now to work for number two.

  • 7:35 am
  • 4 Comments