I was in a crappy TKD school for a long time, and was a BB. I was extremely lucky/smart, as during point sparring I’d always go all out, and it actually worked fairly well in real life. Even still, Im much happier with my MMA/BJJ, where Im not yelled at every time I spar.
Right you are, Patfromlogan:
In the early eighties, my Kyokushin didn’t work. So badly was it lacking, in fact, that I floored the imbecile mentioned in the OP without feeling his “punch” in the least.
Pretty sad, I know…but I’ve recovered from that trauma in the intervening decades.
Really.
What was the guy’s first name. He just reminds me of someone I knew in NYC. The dude I knew was under the Bujinkan.
But what the hell? Vieux Normand can suck my Kyokushin belt, what kind of bullsit KK did he do that taught him that sort of bullcrapolay.
Shin kyokushin! OSU!
16 yo High school.
I had a year or so of TKD.
Didn’t really think I was a great fighter or anything.
Actually Let me emphasize this,
I didn’t have a single move that could be called effective
besides a really fast/hard spinning back kick and jump kicks and those aren’t the most practical.
but the fact that i was asian and I could do kicks was enough to “front” and ward most would be bullies away. (at the time I was a extremely skinny 5’4 less then 109lb)
except for this one kid at soccer.
He trips me up twice. I ask him dude what the fuck?
and turn around and walk away.
He rushes me from behind forcing me to the ground (face in ground) and puts me in a full nelson while laughing. It occurs to me at this time I have no fucking idea what to do in this situation and I’ve lost my temper and snapped. No thinking just struggling to get out. (Being he was probably 5’10 5’11ish and had a good 50lb or more on me, easier said then done)
He then lets me go and starts running. I chase angrily. and then he is up against the fence in a high boxing guard(fists up by head) daring me to do something so he can kill me.
I did the only thing I knew how to do. The spinning back kick directly into his stomach followed by a second one launched slightly off balance at his chest.
He went to the ground and had a hard time catching his breath to get up. by this time the teachers were there and we were being dragged before the administration
getting out of that without getting beat down was just by sheer luck, him underestimating me and lack of skill on his part.
Didn’t take martial arts again til college. (FMA and limited MT/Judo/BJJ training)
and I’ve put on a good 50 - 60lb of muscle and two inches of height since then.
I feel slightly better about my chances about defending myself now.
but IMO. I’m barely adaquate and need to improve.
That’s how i’ll always see myself no matter how adept I get.
osu? why are you saying good morning?
osu is a big misconception.
Milton
Then all those japanese sports players, who go around yelling osu after someone scores a goal, hits a home run etc, are all yelling good morning then?
yes and no.
osu is derived from the japanese word ose blablabla whatever which meant good moring, actually there are 2 or 3 different stories about it, the one ive heared most that it came from sailors/dockworkers who were short of tongue and made the longer word into osu, somehow it got intwined with ma and now everybody uses it.
Maybe its a bogus story dunno.
japaneze mmbrz plz.
OK. My moment of shame… I was 11/12ish, and running my mouth at some pickup basketball game in my neighborhood. Anyways, I got tackled and held in a scarfhold type pin, and was told to shut the fuck up. To my suprise, I didnt get my face smashed up, I just heartily agreed to stop the smack talk, and I was let back up. I could feel my balls shrink a few sizes.
I guess BJJ wins again
These are funny stories.
I started with judo, went to boxing, and ended up at an MMA place.
I mock you for I have never been sucked in to anything like what you guyshave. HAHAHAHAHAHA!
(well, there were those wing chun seminars…yeah…plural. As in more than one time. They weren’t cheap, either. What can I say…I fell for the hype!)
im going to visit a kendo class tom. taught by japanese sensei who advertises with: from samurai family.
so im curious to see if the students are nutriders or not.
they emailed me: well you as a beginner (they didnt ask they assumed so i didnt tell) can do warming up and basic drills, the rest of the class is for pple with gear (every basic school has extra gear for beginners).
so maybe this is going to be funny.
If i can make it that is, ive got a busy day tom.
but im sure as hell not paying anything for it.
Instead of stealing the shoes, try stealing the zori’s (flip flops … haole) outside a Kyokushin or Kosho Shorei Ryu Kempo Dojo and maybe you’ll over hear the etymology, not that any of those thick necked brutes could define etymology, fer Christ’s sake.
anyhoo, you’re partly correct:
"The first is iirc the short form for ohayo gozaimasu and means something like ggodmorning.
The second osu is iirc the same as shinobu and means something like to push oneself forward to endure."
More than most humans could stand to know;
http://www.24fightingchickens.com/2005/08/29/appropriate-usage-of-osu/
To endure is what I’ve heard mostly. Endure with fighting spirit and great effort. Sensei would ask, “Are you tired?” OSU! (No fucking way, man, let’s workout!)
It’s also kinda like Aloha, which actually means “having the breath of life,” but also means love, hello, goodbye, and I like your little sister.
Oh, yeah, and the Kosho Dojo supplied gear for n00bs so they could beat each other with sticks… Maybe you’ll have a Dojo report coming?
Once a certain karate bb, me, drank wine and drove to my shitty factory job. I was speeding and for some reason I got pissed at a guy who worked in the same factory when he sped by me near a school zone and I flipped him off. Then in the parking lot I told him that he was an asshole. Next thing I know I’m touching the ground with my knuckes, facing away from him (I DO know how to roll with it, after all, Kyokushin DOES go to the head - I guess I rolled with a punch, I didn’t see shit). Then he said something about getting it on and started throwing punches. I though, hmmmmm, I’d better do a real good rdhouse to his lead leg and get him down. Then I though, hmmmm, he’s on the USU football team and the headline will read “Football Hero Knee Ruined by Drunk Black Belt, Idiot gets sued for zillions” So as I cleverly dogged his punches I then thought, hmmmmm, I have to kill him! And the pulsating vein on his forehead was going off, and his neck grew and grew, till it was this giant wad of muscles raising from his shoulders. Then I thought, 1, It will be hard to kill this guy. 2, Newspaper headlines will read, Idiot Black Belt Kills Football Hero, BB goes to prison. So I kept ducking until he got tired.
We got friendly after awhile.
…and so one day six months into my stint with bujinkan training, our instructor took us out to the woods for “stealth”. Up to this point I had been collecting various doubts over time as to the validity of the “art”. A ridiculous stance here, poorly used and out of context japanese, a counter-intuitive strike there, and most of all the fact that when they paired me up with the guy in the class who had about 100 lbs on me, 99% of the material failed to work remotely, I still hadn’t closed the book on it altogether, as I’d never taken another martial art, and hey, the breakfalls were practical…right?
For the first hour we all spent the time( I kid you not) literally playing hide and go seek, with the instructor as the seeker…but ofcourse it all had a very serious and “mystical” bearing, according to him.
The second hour consisted of learning how to throw hollow eggs full of baby powder at each other, which he lumped under metsubushi. Now, I’m sure the common sense act of “pick it up - then throw it” has been in pretty much every culture, but when I asked the instructor how this would ever come into use for me, as I couldn’t think of a situation where I’d have the time, materials, or motivation to fashion and carry hollow powder-filled eggs, he launched into a diatribe about appreciation of culture, and expecting the unexpected, and added at the end a tid bit about how I could “use these same techniques with dirt, gravel, or (in his attempt to be ‘hip’) a beer bottle”, to which I queried, “then why aren’t we using dirt or gravel?”, at which point he abruptly changed the subject.
The third hour was when my logic finally emerged victorious from the massive pile of bullshit I had been burying it under for the last six months. For a while we were doing what he called randori, but what was more like pretending to be power rangers out in the woods, as we were “freely sparring” but all clearly holding back, as we had been trained to do. There was a lot of flipping, and it was kind of fun honestly, in that it was cool to be a 5 year old again for a few minutes, but it became utterly absurd when I was paired with an 11 year old kid, and I realized that we were all kidding ourselves.
The sweet icing on the cake (or nail in the coffin, whichever one floats your boat) was when the instructor disappeared into the woods, then re-emerged in his “full historical outfit”, head to toe draped in black, with tabi and what amounted to a glorified ski mask. Some small part of me wanted to believe that I hadn’t just wasted six months of my life and over half a thousand dollars on complete and total role playing, so instead of leaving, I tried to participate in what happened next, which the only fitting words for are downright fucking ridiculous.
He had everyone in the class surround him, and then once he had gotten into his “crane stance”, he encouraged us to “attack at will”. At this point, in typical kung fu movie style, we came at him one at a time, with large, swooping, sloppy overhand rights (I like to call this “the redneck right hook”) or awkward crescent kicks, he proceeded to “dispatch” us in a dominating fashion. After he had thoroughly established his knowledge of deadly fighting technique, he invited us to all attack him at once. You can fill in the rest.
Stop hating on Wing Chun. You know damn well that the real Wing Chun incorporates judo, boxing and the MMA ruleset.
In other words, you’re Wu Cheng’en’s Monkey God: you travelled all around the world, but you never left William Cheung’s immeasurable Buddha grasp.
Can we have a Fred Ettish devotee tell a tale? Just so that patfromlogan(bot) can add his usual:
“Your fetal-fighting sucks. Mine works.”
Pattu-kun wa sugoi okama-chan desu, ne?
Does he post on this board so I can rep him:happy7:
Cute story. I take a leave from bullshido for a few months and people start posting crap like this? I call bullshit.
I have been involved in fighting for about 20 years. I can’t recall a single knee to the face tearing a gash from the nose to the end of the cheek. That would be about 17 to 20 stitches. You are young and the young are prone to embelshment…thats fine we all went through it at one point when we were young, but keep the fish tales off this site. Or prove me wrong and post photos. If “Guy” really has the knee of death, I will admit it. Putting that up without proof makes the whole story suspect.