We are met on the field of battle...

[Bill Mattocks]

I realize this may well seem absurd, or that I'm making too much of it...but I'm interested in any comments you may have.

Let me begin by saying that as a Marine, I was part of a team, a group, a family, that 'band of brothers' thing. We fought each other sometimes, didn't like each other sometimes, and in general didn't behave in honorable ways towards each other at all times, but we never questioned the others' right to be amongst us. We had all been through the test, we had all earned the title, there may have been slackers and non-hackers, but we were all made of the same stuff and we all knew it.

Later, as a veteran Marine, I felt it less; and was beset by those who want to be 'part of the team' in retrospect. They 'wanted to join' or they 'had a brother who joined' but then they wanted to be part of 'our thing' based on that; and it doesn't work that way. Woulda, coulda, shoulda; you were or you were not a Marine. No judgment on you if you served in another branch or didn't serve at all; it doesn't make you better or worse; but it does mean you ain't one of us and you never will be. Sorry, the way is closed, you can't be our brother or sister now. It is what it is.

Having said that (and my apologies if it sounds harsh), my feelings and memories on this were reawakened the other day when I got my 41-second drubbing at a local open karate tournament. It wasn't what I would call good karate; it wasn't really sparring; it certainly wasn't self-defense; it was more a game of speed-tag, and I sucked at it (I'm going to get better, though).

However, even so, I found myself stepping into the ring against a man I didn't know, taking my fighting stance, and throwing myself into 'battle' even if it was not combat in any sense I was familiar with. And that feeling came back. We knew each other; even as strangers. Two men faced off, all talk is worthless, all boasts end, all woulda, coulda, shoulda, means nothing. You either do or you do not fight other people with physical violence. We do. And that creates a connection. We recognize each other. Like 'namaste' which means two people recognize the divine in each other; there should be a word for two combatants who recognize the warrior in each other; like one Marine recognizing another. It doesn't matter how good you are; it matters only that you are.

It didn't take any particular courage for me to step into the ring; I didn't know exactly what would happen, but I did not fear getting really hurt or injured. That's just part of my background; I realize that for others, it's a big step.

But if you haven't done it - even if you think point-sparring is nothing but a game and doesn't prove anything - you might want to try it. If you feel the way I did when I looked at my opponent over my raised fists, it's a feeling that is worthy of having at least once in your lifetime. It's a team you can always join, no matter how late in life, no matter how you end up doing in competition. Being there and stepping into the ring is transformative, I think.

A day spent in the company of men and women who fight is a good day; win, lose, or draw. That's all I'm saying.

 

[Empty Hands]

I've experienced something similar. I had an intense camaraderie with those I regularly fought with, as you say a feeling of brotherhood. It's a special kind of bond, when you hit each other regularly.

 

[harlan]

Touches on a variety of issues.

1. Communication: depends on a shared language. Even non-verbal communication. And the 'shared language' is more meaningful built upon shared experiences (events, memories, etc.) In a practical sense, discussion never replaces direct experience. For example, I was first in line for a simulation last week. When I returned, another lady asked me, 'What was it like?' I just looked at her...she would have to go through it first.

2. 'Fighting' is along a continuum. One experience doesn't necessarily prepare one to understand anothers; it would be hubris to casually relate experiences with urban violence with someone that has been in a war zone.

3. 'Us vs them' mentality. Pervasive, and often a negative thing.

 

[Aiki Lee]

How ironic that the people we find most trustworthy are those who attack us during practice.

Personally I view violence as the most primitive form of communication. In a controled violent circumstance (sparring, randori, or whatever) there does seem to be something unspoken that goes on when you connect to your partner.

It makes me feel alive.

 

[Bill Mattocks]

In a controled violent circumstance (sparring, randori, or whatever) there does seem to be something unspoken that goes on when you connect to your partner.

I agree, but also note that I feel something quite different when in the dojo; my partner is the correct word to use. In competition, the feeling is very different, and the word is opponent or adversary.

It makes me feel alive.

Aye, it does.

 

[punisher73]

I can't remember where it was I read it, but a socialogist talked about a male in the american/western society can reach adulthood without ever having to challenge himself as a male.

Many "primitive" cultures have rites of passage that a young man must go through to become one of the tribe. I think that all groups of people associate with each other that have gone through this type of passage. For some, it is military bootcamp, for some it is even "rushing" a fraternity. But, all have that common bond with each other.

I think that to compete in a competition is another bond that people have. It's the unwritten/unspoken word that says you had the stones to step up where so many haven't.

 

[Bruno@MT]

I understand perfectly well Bill.
I've fought in a tournament myself when I was younger. It was medium contact point sparring (jujutsu) without breaking up after a score. So you kept fighting until the mercy rule kicked in, you made the other guy tap out, the time was up, the fight was deadlocked or someone got disqualified.

I fought 2 bouts. Got pasted 2 times.
It was a very special experience, and something that everyone should have done so, just for experiences sake.

I do remember that a fight seemed a whole lot less obvious once I stood there in the middle.
All the things that seem so clear and obvious when you stand on the sidelines suddenly become invisible.

 

[Bill Mattocks]

All the things that seem so clear and obvious when you stand on the sidelines suddenly become invisible.

One of my senseis told me that now that I've had a competition, he can teach me what to do. His opinion is that you don't 'get it' until you've done it, so advice is wasted prior to the first bout. Seemed to make sense.

 

[WC_lun]

Some of the men I respect the most are guys I've gone toe-to-toe with. I look back at some of the matches we had with fondness. Never mind that we were going at each other, doing our best to inflict some pain on the other. After the matches were over the hand shakes and hugs were really felt. It is something that someone who hasn't done it is going to have a hard time appreciating.

For me, one of the things I enjoyed the most in sparring matches was that nothing else really mattered at that point. Had a hard day, argued with a loved one, jerk cut you off, etc. Doesn't matter. All that crap fades away while you take care of the task at hand, your opponent. There is no time for anything else. Those that brought egoes into the ring, rarely walked out with them. No time for that either.

Bill, I'm glad you enjoyed the experience.

 

[chrispillertkd]

I fought in several tournaments back in the day, both point sparring and hogu fighting. There definitely is a certain bond between "adversaries" one recognizes at the end of the match. You respect the other people at the tournament for getting in the ring and facing others, something which can be very disconcerting even though you know there are rules in place to protect you (to a greater or lesser extent). It's part of the reason why I don't care for people celebrating after a victory by doing fist pumps, jumping, around, etc. It feels great to win, but you still need to show respect to the man you just fought for getting in the ring with you.

The same can be said, I'd say, not only about those who fight in tournaments but those who go through the same hard training as you. It's like when you go to a seminar and meet people for the first time and trade stories about training. You feel a bond that was forged through hard training, even if you went to schools that were located in different countries. In my personal experience the bond is stronger among members of the same school, of course, as it's easier to relate since you probably both went through the same wringer at one time or another. I don't think it's an accident that you hear people refer to each other, on occasion, as "martial art brothers." They've had experiences that have drawn them close, experiences that other people who never kick off their shoes, tie on a belt will and do a million punches in annun sogi will never fully understand.

I remember a story a very senior ITF practitioner shared at a seminar once. He is a RCMP and was in uniform walking through a mall one night. He saw a group of boistrous teen age boys heading towards him and, he said, he was kind of on the look out since they looked like they migt be rowdy and cause trouble. As the group of teens got closer the next thing he knew one of them shouted out loudly: "Charyot! Sabum Nim Gae, Kyung Nae!" They had all formed a couple line, snapped to attention, waited for him to come to attention, too, and then bowed to him. They were all students at a local school and knew who he was. They knew they had a bond with him and wanted to show him they respected him because of that bond.

It stuff like that, I think, that non-Martial Artists don't get.

Pax,

Chris

 

[Tez3]

And that's how it is in MMA, why we love it.

 

[Aiki Lee]

I can't remember where it was I read it, but a socialogist talked about a male in the american/western society can reach adulthood without ever having to challenge himself as a male.

That reminds me of something my teacher's teacher said. He said that in this age of safety and security a person can go through his entire life without ever knowing if he is a coward or not.

Martial arts sure does help a person discover things about himself and others in unique ways. I don't know who I would be without them.

 

[Big Don]

Combatants are more fun to hang out with than non-combatants, I don't pretend to know why this is true, it just is.

 

[Supra Vijai]

Agreed with the Martial Arts brothers thing. A very good friend of mine trains at our school. He's a couple of years younger and a couple of ranks lower than myself but when we face off either to practice something in class or during our out of class training, we don't see ranks, we don't see age, we just see an opponent who is as committed to what they are doing as you are and we train accordingly. We were talking about it last night as well, having spent so much time going toe to toe with each other so to speak there is a complete trust in place. Yes I know he won't completely pull his punches, yes I know that if he can't get a throw to work he will punch me in the face to distract me and then throw me harder because I resisted but... I'll do the same thing. We know each others limits and work towards pushing each other just that little bit further and suddenly we have a whole bunch of common anecdotes and memories that you just can't get with something you haven't shared that with. Empty Hands hit the nail on the head with "It's a special kind of bond, when you hit each other regularly."

 

[Makalakumu]

There is a level of shared interest and trust that sets martial arts aside from many other things in life. I've found that the harder you test yourself against your mates, the more you love them.

 

[Aiki Lee]

Yes I can say that this is definitely true for me. There are perhaps 3 people in my dojo I can train with the best. When I train with these men I can trust in their ability enough to know that I need not be concerned with having to deal with some big ego. It becomes rather harmonious.

There are other things that bond us together in our dojo. Like the time we all almost drowned during water training, or our live spear test and boken randori to qualify for 3rd dan.

I look at all my main training partners and smile when I thik about how far we have all come both individually and as leaders in our little community.

 

[David43515]

One of the things I miss the most about not being able to train regularly anymore is the comradery that I had with everyone in the dojo. All the time I was growing up, for 30+ years there were people I sweated with and got sore with, and occationally bled with who pushed me to my limits and helped me find out where those limits were. And they trusted me to help them find theirs too. It`s a beautiful thing that I just don`t think people understand unless they`ve experianced it.

I liked what one of the posters said about how much we trust the people who get together and beat on us a couple times a week.It`s a beautiful thing.

Bill, my dad was in the US Army 1st Infantry division from Feb. 1941 to Oct. 1945 and served most of that time overseas in Europe and North Africa. Sixty years later he said that not a single day had passed since the war when he didn`t think about an experiance he`d had then, or a person he knew, a place he`d been. I know my dad loved me, and I grew up thinking I`d heard all his stories. But there were lots of things he didn`t share with me because I`d never been a soldier. When friends of mine were old enough to enlist and had come home from thier service Dad had a whole bunch of new stories he shared with them that I`d never heard before. And I suppose that`s natural and normal, but it was suprising at first to realize that there was a boundry between us that my friends could cross but I couldn`t because I hadn`t earned the right through experiance. When you think about it, it`s right and proper but it was still a suprise.

 

[jthomas1600]

This has been a great thread. I appreciate the OP getting it started.

One of the reasons I think camaraderie runs deep in the gym is because you can't really pass yourself off for something your not. I'm a ships captain and when you're around a bunch of ships captains they're all the best mariners in the world, they are the best leaders, the best ship handlers, heck they could even run the engineering department. Sooner or later every mariner will have a catastrophe at sea and he will be tested, but until then they can pretend to be the greatest captain in the world. When you put on your gear in the gym and face your classmate in the middle of the mat every thing is in the open. With in the context of being combatants we pretty much know exactly who each other is and what they're made out of. I don't think you get that too many other places in life except places like the military, law enforcement, firefighters and maybe a few other groups and that's why all these groups have such tight bonds.

 

[sgtmac_46]

I realize this may well seem absurd, or that I'm making too much of it...but I'm interested in any comments you may have.

Let me begin by saying that as a Marine, I was part of a team, a group, a family, that 'band of brothers' thing. We fought each other sometimes, didn't like each other sometimes, and in general didn't behave in honorable ways towards each other at all times, but we never questioned the others' right to be amongst us. We had all been through the test, we had all earned the title, there may have been slackers and non-hackers, but we were all made of the same stuff and we all knew it.

Later, as a veteran Marine, I felt it less; and was beset by those who want to be 'part of the team' in retrospect. They 'wanted to join' or they 'had a brother who joined' but then they wanted to be part of 'our thing' based on that; and it doesn't work that way. Woulda, coulda, shoulda; you were or you were not a Marine. No judgment on you if you served in another branch or didn't serve at all; it doesn't make you better or worse; but it does mean you ain't one of us and you never will be. Sorry, the way is closed, you can't be our brother or sister now. It is what it is.

Having said that (and my apologies if it sounds harsh), my feelings and memories on this were reawakened the other day when I got my 41-second drubbing at a local open karate tournament. It wasn't what I would call good karate; it wasn't really sparring; it certainly wasn't self-defense; it was more a game of speed-tag, and I sucked at it (I'm going to get better, though).

However, even so, I found myself stepping into the ring against a man I didn't know, taking my fighting stance, and throwing myself into 'battle' even if it was not combat in any sense I was familiar with. And that feeling came back. We knew each other; even as strangers. Two men faced off, all talk is worthless, all boasts end, all woulda, coulda, shoulda, means nothing. You either do or you do not fight other people with physical violence. We do. And that creates a connection. We recognize each other. Like 'namaste' which means two people recognize the divine in each other; there should be a word for two combatants who recognize the warrior in each other; like one Marine recognizing another. It doesn't matter how good you are; it matters only that you are.

It didn't take any particular courage for me to step into the ring; I didn't know exactly what would happen, but I did not fear getting really hurt or injured. That's just part of my background; I realize that for others, it's a big step.

But if you haven't done it - even if you think point-sparring is nothing but a game and doesn't prove anything - you might want to try it. If you feel the way I did when I looked at my opponent over my raised fists, it's a feeling that is worthy of having at least once in your lifetime. It's a team you can always join, no matter how late in life, no matter how you end up doing in competition. Being there and stepping into the ring is transformative, I think.

A day spent in the company of men and women who fight is a good day; win, lose, or draw. That's all I'm saying.

There is a special feeling when you step into a ring with another man and engage in mutual violence........you learn more about that man in 60 seconds, than many folks learn about each other in a year!

And you learn more about yourself than many folks ever learn!


The same applies to any extreme endeavor where one puts their physically well-being on the line. Those things also happen to be addictive.

 

[seasoned]

We are met on the field of battle...

And my feelings and outlook on interaction with people, are changed forever.

My Sensei taught from the beginning that the dojo was a special place, a training hall for battle. A battle with ourself as well as whoever stood before us, whether in kata, or challenge. When tested in this manor, it was win lose or draw. From the second we stepped onto the floor of battle, it was well understood that "this was a good day to die". Those that survived, shared a life long bond, those that didn't, it wasn't meant to be. There is training, then there is training. Knowing the difference makes all the difference.:asian: