Karate Talk

The Debate About Sport Karate

Two posts in one day after weeks of silence...

The tournament last weekend has reawakened the old debate about sport karate vs. martial arts, and this time there's a new twist because we have some new members of our dojo who come from a much more sport-oriented background.  Although they've worked very hard with us and are great to have, they also naturally have some loyalty to their old style, as well as a certain philosophy that they were taught and that they agree with.  They get understandably defensive at times when they hear disparaging comments about sport karate.  We get defensive when they try to argue with us about it.  The incident last weekend illustrated the divide:  some of the new people defend the person who broke my husband's nose, while we try to make it clear that such behavior is not acceptable in our dojo and never will be.

Since that type of debate also comes up frequently online, I thought I'd just go on record with what I believe the differences are between traditional martial arts and sport karate, and when or if there is a problem or a conflict.

To start with, I want to emphasize one thing:  unlike some traditionalists, I am not anti-sport-karate, per se.  I fully support participation in tournaments, I understand competitive spirit and why people would want to win.  Not a problem.  I understand and respect the amount of training and dedication that it takes to become a top competitive martial artist, and I respect the skill level gained in the process.  I accept that some degree of feistiness between competitors will naturally arise in high adrenaline situations, and that some injuries or aggressiveness go with the territory.

For me, the problem arises when winning becomes more important than martial arts.  What do I mean by that? 

Well, there are some people who practice solely to win tournaments.  If they stop winning, they quit martial arts because it's "no fun anymore".  That's a problem for me. 

There are some people who practice only what they need to in order to win, and regard everything else you're trying to teach them as an irrelevant waste of training time.  That's a problem for me.

There are some people who think that winning is worth it at all costs.  This might include people who are willing to risk injuring an opponent in order to land a flashy sparring technique, when a lesser, and less dangerous, technique would have done just as well.  That's a problem for me.

There are some people who pitch tantrums when they don't win, fling accusations at fellow competitors or judges, claim there's unfair bias or that people were just jealous of them.  That's a problem for me.

There are some people who gloat when they do win, showing blatant ego instead of humility, rubbing it in and showing no respect whatsoever for their opponents.  That's a problem for me.

Are these things problems for me in every sport or every form of competition?  Not necessarily.  Different endeavors have different rules of behavior.  Why are they a problem here?  Because they are antithetical to the spirit and philosophy of traditional martial arts.  The body has learned but the soul is still immature.  A true martial artist should be working on both.  Some sport-oriented martial artists never work on any aspect but the physical, so I consider them unbalanced.  With all that skill should come some knowledge and discretion concerning what to do with it.  I'll go on record also as saying all the fuzzy philosophy in the world doesn't make you a martial artist unless you also work the physical and attain true skill.

When people can train diligently, work hard and endeavor, and grow on all levels, then I support them.  If they love to compete and are willing to bust their keisters to win, then I respect them.  In fact, I have no problem at all with competition (I personally don't enjoy it, but that's just me) as long as the competitors remain martial artists.

When they don't, then I want nothing to do with it.  Our organization, our region, our senseis, our dojos do not endorse such an approach, and anyone who wishes to train with us needs to accept that.  For us, winning will never be more important than respect and hard work.  We give much greater value to the person who can walk away from a pointless physical confrontation then we do to someone who lets themselves get baited into unnecessary violence, in the dojo, the tournament ring, or the real world.  That's not skill or mastery, it's ego.  And it's not worth it.

Of Tournaments and Leading By Example

So there was a tournament this weekend.  I did not participate.  My husband did.  The end result of the day was to illustrate several points that we feel are key to proper martial arts etiquette and understanding... unfortunately, these were illustrated by someone doing exactly the opposite, and the consequences that followed.

There's a male competitor who we see periodically at open tournaments, known for being brutal in sparring.  Broken noses, cracked ribs, and other injuries follow in his wake.  Recently he injured someone in dojo so badly their face required reconstructive surgery.  To say he's unpopular with his fellow competitors is a bit of an understatement.  He and his siblings are excluded from the usual camaraderie that exists at ringside.  There are some who greatly admire his skills, and I will give him full credit for being a very skilled martial artist.  I just don't particularly care for how he chooses to use those skills.

So you can imagine how thrilled I was when I saw that he was my husband's second round opponent for sparring.  My comment before he went into the ring?  "Block face, for heaven's sake!"

My husband considered various strategies and decided that the best one was to make this guy respect his distance and speed.  So he struck out immediately, aggressively, went after him with a couple of punches and then a couple of roundhouse kicks head-level.  This opponent also never blocks, and if my husband hadn't pulled the kicks, he'd have been unconscious.  But he did pull them, because his intent was not to injure; they were scoring techniques and there was no need to hurt someone to prove that.  My husband chased him out of the ring with these kicks, and as the last kick was coming down, his opponent reacted by aiming a perfectly executed and timed jodan punch to his unprotected face.

This was a legal, very appropriate move.  The problem is that it was done from about a foot away, and wasn't pulled in the slightest.  Full speed, full power, full distance, full contact.

Today my husband sits on the couch with packing up his broken nose and a lot of painkillers in his system.  His opponent was DQ'ed from competition and there is actually talk of a suspension for flagrant excessive, malicious contact.  This is probably based partly on the fact that he's been DQ'ed a lot for similar problems in the past few years.  The hubby and I made a point to minimize the incident to the other competitors and people from our dojo, joking that broken noses are bound to happen sooner or later.  Most of the competitors came to check on him before we went to the hospital.  The exception?  You guessed it.  His opponent never approached him with the requisite apology and concern for his health that proper etiquette and manners (not to mention character) demand.  We're really not surprised, but it illustrates the point that bothers us most about the whole incident.

So at the end of the day, what lessons could be learned?  Fans of full-contact sparring will argue that this guy did exactly what he should have and is the "real" fighter, but I might point out this was a traditional karate sparring match and certain rules applied, which he ignored, and that he has a track record of ignoring such rules.  Those same fans will say my husband should have gone ahead and kicked him in the jaw, if he really could have, and will say that he'd never last in a street fight because he pulls his techniques.  I would point out that if he wasn't bound by rules in a tournament and really felt threatened, he wouldn't pull his techniques.  Trust me on this one.  I've seen him take someone down when he had to, quickly, efficiently, and without hesitation.  But he doesn't hurt people when there's no need for it, because he's not a thug.  He's a martial artist.  And yes, Virginia, there is a difference.

This man, the opponent, also teaches; in fact he has his own dojo I believe.  On the website he mentions humility, kindness and self-control.  I couldn't agree more, but I can't see how he demonstrated any of those on Saturday.  What is he teaching his students?  It's not enough to talk, you need to lead by example.  We were pissed beyond belief -- not at the broken nose, but by how it happened -- but made a point not to show it, not to trash talk the opponent.  We tried to set the example of self-control and walking away from a stupid confrontation, and to show them how to handle an injury should it come your way.  I think my husband did a great job of showing courage and strength, as the blood gushed from his nose and he was dizzy and nauseous but yet maintained a joking spirit until we were alone in the car on the way to the hospital, at which point his true feelings came out. 

The bottom line from where we stand?  The broken nose sucks, but we accept that as part of martial arts.  We'll even acknowledge that in many ways the cause itself wasn't so far out of line.  But here's the part where we start having issues:  the higher rank you hold, and the more experience you have, the more is expected of you.  If a brown belt or a new shodan had done this, we would not be as angry, we'd just think, "needs more experience, hasn't learned how to control his techniques or his temper yet."  However, a high rank, extremely experienced sparrer could have pulled that punch so that it landed but didn't break the nose.  Could have, and should have.  If they don't, then it's not an accident, it's a choice.  He chose to injure my husband.  And I take issue with that choice.

Our students learned some valuable lessons.  They learned why we emphasize controlling your techniques, whether in dojo or in tournament.  They learned about humility -- the guy was taping himself to put the video up on his website and some thought his shot at my husband was because he looked bad on his own video and got mad.  They learned why some of the rules of behavior exist, and got see the difference between mutual respect and self-importance.  They learned the difference between a brawl and tournament sparring, and why you shouldn't confuse the two.  Hopefully they also got to see a good example of how to deal with a difficult situation, how to control your emotions and handle things properly.

I'm not sure what the other guy's students learned, although I could hope they learned that excessive contact and aggression, not to mention ignoring the rules, will get you into trouble.  I could hope that they saw how their instructor was shunned by most of the other competitors, who dislike his willingness to injure and his lack of any remorse for it, that his students could distinguish the difference between fear and respect, and would prefer genuine respect.  But I doubt it.