I was talking to a friend today, a fellow FMA fighter who also teaches tennis. Being a Filipino, our conversation quickly turned to our sons–as our sons happen to be our most prized accomplishments. And being Filipino, we had a contest of one-upmanship.

You see, my kid is so awesome, he…. And I can’t make him stop.

Just the other day, he… Surprised the hell out of me, because I didn’t know he was that good.

You know, that kind of stuff.

Being a martial artist, he recalled a time that his son beat up the bully. My son has done a lot of sparring and since we lived in “the hood”, is a little street smart for a 13 year old boy. But he is also a thicker boy, plays football, boxed, practiced my martial arts, fenced… He doesn’t get bullied, so I didn’t have a story to top my friends.

Oh, but wait. There was one, and our sparring match became a lecture from senior Guro to older-but-junior-Guro.

My son’s school called to tell me that he had been in a fight and that they were planning to suspend him. Angry because we already had issues because my daughter was the only hijabi (girl who wears hijab) in the entire school–she had been teased for it and had a few fights of her own–I ran down to the school ready to chew my son’s head off. When I arrived, I was met by a few parents and staff who assured me that my son is a good boy so not to be too angry at him. My son had a few scratches on his face and was red with anger so I asked for a few minutes with the principal before talking to him.

Here’s the gist:  My son has a weird sense of humor and likes to tease. He unwittingly teased a boy who is known to be a trouble maker and they engaged in a contest of insults and wisecracks. My son, being very articulate and sharp got the most laughs, and the other boy hit him. My son only dodged and blocked while laughing and the boy grew more angry. When my son realized that the boy would not calm down, he executed a take down… Fight over. The only punches thrown was by the other boy. That was the official story, and all sides agreed. Then I interviewed my son.

My son admitted that he did not know the other boy would get so angry, and the punches he threw did not alarm him. But when the punching kept going, the other boy was cussing, my son did not know how to make him stop without punching him back, so he performed a hip throw.

My question, why didn’t you fight back? His answer? Because Dad, he was weaker than me. I knew he was mad for a good reason, but I needed for him to stop and he wouldn’t. It was the only way I could stop him without beating on him. Such wisdom in a 12 year old (it was last year)!

I refused to accept the suspension, even writing letters and arguing with the dean and the principal. In my mind, my son was not wrong, and the other boy was lucky my son chose not to put that boy on his ass the way I taught him. So my lecture to the principal was the same as the one I gave my friend, and the same one I give my stronger students:

When you have real strength advantages over your opponent, you eliminate the need to hurt him. If you, a grown man and trained warrior, were attacked by a 10 year old boy, how would you defend yourself? The same way you would an armed mugger? No. You would do so as safely as possible because there was no threat. But you could only do this if you had true superiority over the opponent and had to look out for the well-being of the weaker opponent and the rules of chivalry and decency. If you, a strongman, attacked a 12 year old boy it would show what a coward and horrible bully you were, and that your Master’s teaching was a waste of time. I trained my son to use his skill on equals, on a superior fighter or attacker(s), if he was in danger. I did not train this child to beat up on kids who have no idea how to break a jaw or dislocate a shoulder. My son knows how to do both. And because he can do both, there is almost no need to use this knowledge. Fortunately for me and my son’s future, he had the wisdom to know this and the confidence not to use it.

So, my friend loses the “my son’s so great” contest with Mustafa Gatdula, and he learned something that he could apply to his own teaching arsenal:  Train your students to absolute superiority, so that no opponent is a threat any more than a 12 year old boy.

If you find yourself constantly reaching for your knife or thinking about dislocating some man’s joints, I would say that your skill has not arrived to the level where you no longer need them. Live in fear of no man, and know that your skills really are on reserve for when it matters, not when you’re scared.

Food for thought.

Thanks for visiting my blog.

I arrived in California in January 1999 from Washington, DC. I was very fit, aggressive, and new. As always, I was eager to build my reputation here. Those of you who are Philippine-based know that the Filipino way to build one’s reputation is on the backs of your opponents. So I immediately did a combination of fighting in tournaments as well as dojo-hopped, looking for “sparring partners”. I found three homes for my sparring away from the tournament circuit:  A park in North Sacramento, a school called Tae Kuk Mu Sul (Suk Ku Kim), and a kickboxing gym called “East Wind Martial Arts” (Thomas Gibbs). My opponents from the tournament circuit made up most of the sparring partners, and some I am good friends with to this day. Many of these men were great fighters, and I dare not lie and say I beat all of them. But fight them I did, and when you live the life of a fighter, you get used to winning some and losing some. The great thing about coming back week after week to fight again means that you know eventually, you will one day defeat the man you cannot beat today. When I dojo-hopped in the Philippines, I did not have this luxury, as many masters would not allow you to fight their boys over and over because you will figure them out, befriend them (making it difficult for them to fight you 100% in competition)–especially if they know you will never join their gym. (Side note:  Dojo-hopping is dangerous in the Philippines. I was once taken by some friends to another location to spar because they told me later, that they had classmates who wanted to hurt me since I was a member of a rival gym. Martial arts is taken very seriously back home and although I am a province boy, I spent too much time in America for me to realize how naive I was being)

The two men I will tell you about are old friends I cannot recall their names. One White man and his childhood friend was a Mexican man I can’t remember either first name. Anyway, I met them prior to my division. I was a middleweight, they were both heavyweights. Curious that I was a Philippine martial artist fighting in a Karate tournament, they were ringside for my first two matches. I did a good job intimidating the gym, with my red Gi, my standoffish attitude, and the occasional combination I would throw while warming up. Looking at the physiques of the two men and knowing they were in another weight class, I didn’t mind being friendly because I knew I would not have to face them later. I didn’t even bother asking for a card to see if they wanted to join one of my sparring groups. I won my division and then ran over to see the heavyweights fight. Both men were defeated by opponents just as heavy, and just as (excuse my bluntness) poorly skilled. I was embarrassed for them and their students.

I couldn’t resist. I offered to spar with them.

This story does not end with me telling you how I taught them the secrets of fighting and they became champions. Truth is that I lived too far from them to really connect with them often, I believe that perhaps I was too heavy-handed in sparring, and that I felt they had too much to develop for me to teach them. They did not want to attend my sparring sessions. Pride, perhaps, kept them from reaching outside their gym for more learning and help with their fighting. What they did do, was train together and push each other, and they frequented almost every tournament I attended in our part of the state. They did lose a lot, and still brought students. I would offer tips where I could, but I realized that they wanted to find their way through the maze; and I respected that. Guess what? Over three short years, they improved greatly and slowly. In 2002, when I found myself a heavyweight, I entered a division with both of them and defeated one–but only narrowly. These men taught me something very important by losing:  That experience teaches, even when that experience is what most would consider a negative one. They never appeared depressed or insecure about “throwing away” $45 a weekend. These two gentlemen kept at it, developed a seasoned fighter’s timing, lost the fear of getting hit, learned to use good evasive tactics despite their weight, and became old sages at a game that supposedly only the athletic excelled at.

When I was a young man, I called my grandfather from the Philippines and told him that I had yet to meet an undefeated Master to learn from. His suggestion to me was that I had indeed found great men to learn from, because the worst fighters never admit to losing, and the best embrace loss and are graceful losers. I didn’t fully understand, but I have become one of these men myself. I had no problem admitting my losses even to potential students because the fighters who beat me were superior fighters. And since I was one who crossed sticks or touched gloves with them, some of that superior skill seeped into my own roster of experiences.

The Strongest fighters become the strongest fighters in three steps:

1. They seek out and face stronger fighters
2. They find out why they were successful and/or why they failed
3. The outcome of those fights guides the direction of their martial journey

If you have never lost against another fighter, you either avoided facing fighters altogether or you chose inferior men to exchange with. Contrary to popular belief, you cannot have the “strongest” FMA, you can only be among the strongest. And that place alone is the only place from where you can claim to be one of them. It is irrelevant whether or not you won every fight; the only fact that matters is that you attempted to be one of them.

Thank you for visiting my blog.

And this will be the shortest article of the series. Today, we will commit the so-called FMA blasphemy that so many people think is impossible. I am going to introduce to you five things you can do, that you must do, to get you started on improving your Master’s FMA. If you take these things and you cannot come up with an improvement, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.

Those of you who live near Sacramento who may be unconvinced that your system cannot be improved, come see me in person and I will show you myself how you can improve your Eskrima. It won’t be free; I work for my living and I do these blogs to advertise my services. But pay for one hour of private lessons with me and I’ll show you myself what I mean in this article. Provided, of course, that you’re really looking for truth. But as I’ve said many times, if you are looking for truth you’ll find it with me. If you’re looking to disprove me, you’ll find a “debate”. Think before you talk. There are only five things, and if you do these five things and test the theories yourself, you will be able to overhaul your Eskrima and indeed, improve your Master’s art–or dare I say it–exceed him.

Let’s get right to business:

1. Practice fighting footwork. I ain’t talking about no damned triangles neither. I mean, how would you move your feet when you are attacking or evading your opponent? Try every possible attack, and how the feet must move in order to deliver you to the strike zone (in pursuit of a fleeing opponent, I must add) or deliver you to safety.
   
2. Practice methods of attack. Take your stick, take your opponent, and kick his ass. Don’t ask him to “feed” you anything. Attack him. Oh, I’m sorry, your Master must not have taught you that, huh? It’s okay, most people doing Classical Eskrima don’t know how to attack someone. Find out the best methods to do it, and then practice and master them.
3. Counter a combination. Your countering methods suck. Basically, your opponent throws out a strike that’s not really meant to hit or hurt you. Then he stands there while you beat him into simulated submission. He could have attacked you while you were blindfolded, and if he attacked you correctly–he would have had no chance of hitting you. All them bruised knuckles you’ve received in training you like to post Facebook statuses about? They were accidents from poorly choreographed practice–not combat. Now, send your “feeder” to rule #2 ^^^ and then have him attack you with it. Find a way to counter it. Here’s a hint:  He must throw at least two hits in his combination. Your master’s Eskrima doesn’t exactly have an answer for that, does it?
4. Practice power striking. Take this test. Go get your stick and take your basic strike to the left temple if you’re right-handed, right temple if you’re left handed. Throw this strike 500 times. If you can’t do it and you have the title “Guro” behind your name, you’ve got some training to do. If you have the title “Master/Grandmaster/etc” behind it, come to Sac, you can stay with me until you can. This is not a test of how much power you have, but if you have the ability to develop power. Too much Eskrima has been practiced without the presence of stress, and power is secondary. But I have news for you; this is a blunt-force weapon, not a cheerleading baton. No one gives a damn about them twirls except folks in the kids’ class. Learn how to use it to break bones, period.
5. How do you stop a disarm? If you are a self-respecting Eskrimador, I’m positive you have a bunch of weapons hidden throughout your life:  your car, your home, in your briefcase. I don’t know why knifers are always learning so many damned disarms. The most likely person who will be disarmed is YOU. Attacker jumps out from the bushes to grab your wallet. You pull out your collapsible baton and commence to whipping his ass. What do you think he will do? Punch you? No! He is going for your weapon to stop the whuppin’! How much practice have you had stopping a man from taking your weapon?

No commentary today. Just cold, hard truth. I have seen hundreds of Eskrima styles, and most of them are lacking in these five departments. No matter what title your master has–whether he is a Supreme Bajo Taco Grandmaster or not–chances are I am introducing something you are mostly unfamiliar with if you have thought about them at all. I can almost guarantee this–You most likely have done none of the above in the last 4 weeks of Eskrima practice.

Get to work.

Thanks for visiting my blog.

You see, all “arguments” in the martial arts really is a waste of time. You can’t prove your point with words or even a demo. Only by crossing sticks and crossing hands, can a point make its way all the way home–and even then, one cannot make an absolute judgment about a technique or strategy since variables can cause the outcome to turn either way. Well many martial artists can only speak in theory because they have yet to develop their theories into skills. So, folks armed with theories argue, and folks armed with skills speak with authority because they can back up what they say. Sorry if that makes people think I’m an asshole.

Anyway, I am very outspoken about my opinions about the martial arts–namely, the Filipino arts. And within the FMAs…. Seminars and the Instructional DVD market. I will not bite my tongue if asked about it, and often I run the risk of offending my own friends within the FMAs. Hey, disagreeing doesn’t mean we can’t find common ground. And being friends doesn’t mean we should suppress our opinions, so I run my mouth.

Well, in a nutshell, I don’t like the Seminar industry and the Instructional market. Out of all martial arts systems, next to Krap Maga, the Filipino art is the most mass-marketed, bastardized and pimped forms of “combat”. Majority of the time you meet an FMA guy, he is trained through seminars, or seminar-trained Guros. He has probably never had anyone try and prove that his art will fail–and this is a vital part of the growth of a martial artist of any style:  He must have had someone challenge his ability many times, and suffered defeat as well as enjoyed victory. The FMA guy of today, he knows nothing of this experience. He has most likely never tried his Eskrima against another non-Eskrima guy. He has never used his “Pangamut/Mano-Mano/Panantukan” against a non-FMA guy determined to beat him. He is so used to being around like-minded FMA guys, he is offended if someone says those drills you do are mostly new creations less than 50 years old and the masters of yesteryear didn’t do them. He gets bent out of shape when a guy says that FMA empty hand you do won’t work in a fight, when the easiest thing to do–the most logical thing to do–is take 3 minutes to prove them wrong. There is too much damned hand-holding, butt kissing, “sharing” of technique, and cooperative practice in today’s FMA guy’s training, he has become soft as mashed potatoes.

But don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe that all of the industry is bad. But I have ONE litmus test I challenge EVERY FMA Guro/GM/Master with, and 100% of them fail when I throw it out there…

Are you willing to bet any of your Black Belt fighter against me or one of my Black Belts?

If you are a real-deal FMA guy, put any of your guys out there with full confidence that he’s going to whip pretty much anyone we put in front of him. But if you can’t do that with all your “expert” level guys–not just your BEST fighter, I’m talking about every last one of them–you need to review how you certify your guys.

I talk of Mas Oyama a lot because he has kept his quality standard so high, he believed that ANY Kyokushinkai Black Belter could defeat any Black Belter of any other style. He called his art the “Strongest Karate”, and he made sure that only the best of his best was of that caliber. Shit, most of you FMA Guros don’t even believe that YOU can whip most comers. So when it comes to your students, you don’t care that your guys aren’t the best fighters around. As long as they “know” the curriculum, they can teach, and you have neither tested their knowledge against guys from other schools, other styles, nor have you taken care to ensure that they are the best of what you can produce. Hell, most of you can’t even NAME every Black Belt/Instructor in your systems.

I have attended seminars all over this country as a guest, and I have never once seen the guys have that learning tested to see if it will stand up to some else’s style. Most seminars throw so much at the students so quickly, the students don’t even have enough time to fully absorb what they were taught. And 99% of those seminars give these guys a certificate with no “pass/fail” involved. I know guys who have amassed more than 50 seminars, and name-drop more Masters than an NBA groupie chick… and none of them have enough skill to beat one of my intermediate Eskrima guys.

Don’t get me started on the DVD industry. Hopefully no one certifies though correspondence course anymore.

But that doesn’t mean I’m 100% against it.

Seminars are a good way to introduce someone to a style or a teacher, although if the seminar was taught like a real class should be taught, it would be boring as hell. Most guys I know who teach seminars are excellent showmen; they put on humorous or dazzling displays of choreographed “skill”. This is what brings people back to the show over and over, not real training. That’s okay, I get that. But the question is, do we do these seminars because we really want people to learn? Are we trying to arm them with skill that will make them unbeatable? Do we want these guys to be examples of the best quality fighter we can produce? Or do we care?

If I taught seminars and made instructional videos, I would teach very basic technique to get people started. I would answer the question, “If I have NO access to a teacher, what could you teach me to protect myself with?” Screw trying to learn a style. Martial arts is serious business, and if some guy already had a background and he was just looking to satisfy his fetish for exotic arts or learn a few trick to impress people with–I’m not the one. Periodically, I do teach seminars. In these seminars, I want to pass on to attendees my basic philosophy of learning and practicing the art. I teach people how to train, I test what they know against their own classmates. If there are Black Belts in the room, I let them test themselves on me. No man should be calling himself an expert if he is unwilling to put his skill and knowledge to the test. I’m also aware that most students will probably never have someone “test” their art and theories, so in my classes, I make sure that they get this experience. I’ve only done a handful in the last 25 years or so, but I have had many FMA men say that they never looked at the martial arts the same way after my presentation. Students love it, Masters and experts hate it. But it’s all to assist with the progress of the Filipino arts. We have allowed the FMAs to become an add-on art, something taught in “Ten Easy Lessons” (excuse me, seminars); most FMA guys today will not allow themselves to be trained hardcore in these arts.

Because when they encounter someone who tries to introduce them to the “hard core FMA” concept, they walk away calling me an asshole.

The teaching of the martial arts is serious business, and should not be something that just skims the surface but marketed as a survival art.

Thanks for visiting my blog.

Two things:

1. I’ve relocated this part of the series to “Philosophy”, and
2. I am about to ask you to commit martial “blasphemy”

Steven Dowd is dedicating an issue to this blog (thanks Steven!) in his FMA newspaper, FMA Informative. If you are unfamiliar with it, I recommend you go over to the site and subscribe. He’s a major player in the FMA community, and although he does not toot his own horn–Steven is the kind of guy who promotes other martial artists–he has been involved in the Filipino arts longer than most people reading this blog has been alive. Matter of fact (and not calling him old), he has been practicing the arts longer than many “grandmasters” have known how to walk. Even if only by association, he has known and learned and exchanged from many martial artists and his exposure and experiences have left behind a very knowledgeable and wise master.

So when on the subject of choosing a cover photo, I couldn’t settle on what I wanted to submit. Many FMA guys are big on self-promotion, as am I, but I only believe in promoting myself to people who might study with me. If you live in another state and have no chance of joining my school, I don’t care if you think my arts stink and I’m a 12 year old behind the keyboard. Oh yeah, there were many who questioned if thekuntawman even existed. After all, no one had ever heard of my teachers, and if I’m so great, how come I don’t have any videos on the market? Or magazine articles? Anyway, I decided to send him the front of my school. Many have told me that the door to my school tells the story of what goes on behind those walls, and what kind of teacher leads the classes, and what kind of students walk out after class.

We have sponsored a Fight Night for the last two decades that only local martial artists know about–even those who consider themselves “streetfighters”–where anyone can walk through my door and fight my guys or even go a round with me. No Black Belt has ever attended a Fight Night and not gone at least one round with me. It’s a rule. Most of you studied from Guros who don’t work that way, and that’s okay. Each of us have our own way.

I happen to have improved my teachers’ way.

Did that bother you?

Many would think that a man who says he improved his Masters’ arts is a self-centered, arrogant bastard. I disagree.

In the Filipino tradition of the arts, we all strive to exceed the ability and the technical side of our Masters’ arts. It isn’t disrespect to try and improve their art, find a more efficient, effective way. In fact, for us FMA guys–we’re expected to. You cannot allow yourself to worship your teachers and their methods to the point that you believe that those techniques cannot be tweaked into a better art. I would think that if you found a way to do so, your teacher would be proud.

Occasionally, some of us may end up learning from a talented or talentless teacher who is good with a typewriter, good with creative, fancy names, and coordinated enough to put on dazzling displays of “skill”–just to have our growth stunted by a self-promoting, narcissistic teacher. Perhaps your Master was an egomaniac–but he also had a good system to learn. Either way, you must know when it is time to branch off and start experimenting with your skills. There will be a time in every fighter’s life when he must break away from under his teacher’s wing to start a fight career of his own. It doesn’t need to be a sporting fight career; simply training among a new group of kumpadres and opponents in a new atmosphere is good enough. You need the change in scenery, where you are no longer someone’s student–but a martial artist/fighter-at-large, who does not have the protection or security of a teacher and classmates. You must leave the nest and go on your own to sink or swim. This is a stage I believe many students skip. Too many students graduate to the instructorship or black belt level and then immediately begin teaching.

My school is a secluded place where students can begin their warrior journey. We are not for the dabblers or the hobbyists. We are not for those with little courage, or those with a weak stomach for pain. This place is where we take men who would otherwise become victims of a crime, and we turn them into the quiet storms in the back of cubicles and crowded buses… the wrong guys for a thug to pick on. In order for me to create that in my guys, we can’t have spectators and voyeurs getting their rocks off while they try to pick up new techniques without paying with money or sweat. This is also the place, where I confide in my students that I found a potential improvement in my teacher’s style–and I give them the original way along with my method. This is a private matter, and therefore I will not share it for free on youtube just to have some asshole who hates Muslims, hates my martial arts philosophy, or too uncommitted to visit me in person to learn what my guys arrive three times a week to get abused, hoping to learn it. It is why I don’t sell videos of my teacher’s art or my version of their art… I spent decades learning, practicing and developing this stuff. I’ll be damned if someone walks through the door and learns it.

Yes, it seems like martial arts blasphemy to make such a statement:  I’ve improved my teachers’ art.  But I want you to know that there are three types of teachers out there:

1. Those who improve the art and they aren’t afraid to say it,
2. Those who are not knowledgeable enough to improve their teacher’s art, or
3. Those who find it more lucrative to keep the teacher’s art intact so they could “Puff Daddy-Biggie” their way to martial arts notoriety by pimping the dead teacher’s memory

You will not find a knowledgeable teacher who has not at least personalized their teacher’s art. And there is no shame in saying that you’ve done so. Most likely, your teacher improved his teacher’s art when he taught you. Now, it’s your turn. You’ve put in many years and gained a lot of wisdom. You deserve to be able to slap your own personal stamp on your teacher’s teachings. If he wanted the art preserved with absolutely no changes at all, he would have done a better job videotaping it himself.

I would like to suggest this:  When you get the best of your master’s knowledge, the least you can do is pass this information on to the next generation in private. So that only the most deserving students receive the instruction, and will treat that art with respect… Not to put it out like Beyonce’s half-naked ass for everyone to enjoy and indulge–whether it’s for free on Youtube or on some DVD for a fee. This is how you improve the art. You find a better way, you find the best candidates to receive and carry on the system, and then you make sure they don’t exploit you or your teacher’s memory for dollar bills or likes and comments on Youtube. Give that learning the utmost respect.

Thanks for visiting my blog.

I have a student, Pia Cainglet, who has been studying with me for a few years. She has a very busy job and she joined the school at an older age than most new students (actually, she and I are about two weeks apart in age), and as a result has not been able to compete very often. She also has the distinction of being my only active female student, among a crew of very aggressive, physical younger man. The result is that she does not get as much “tempering”–rough treatment–as the rest of the guys. When they spar her, they are sparring their sister, not just an opponent. When she attends a tournament, she is usually the only woman her age in the tournament. So recently, we sent her to Oakland to fight with women half her age.

I have former student I will not name because he is a teacher, who is in the same position as she is. He is older than most of the fighters in a tournament, and has spent the last two decades or so training but not competing. He is at a stage in his martial arts journey where he needs to compete, and when he decides to–will be in the same position Pia is.

Here is the thing. Every martial artist must be “tempered” to get the butterflies out of his or her system. Regardless of how much you train, if you are not a naturally aggressive person, your skill will be blocked by those butterflies that paralyze you when you know what to do. Bottom line–you can’t think, you can’t react, you can’t move. You can either rid them in the ring under sterile circumstances while people watch (and you are embarrassed and end up beating yourself up over your performance)–or you can end up with injuries after a successful mugging, or worse. Some people can learn a “few moves” and commence to whipping some ass, but most people must try them out and get used to the idea of hitting someone and being hit before they will have full access to those skills.

There is no short cut. Forget what the so-called “experts” say about the unrealistic nature of tournaments and sparring. The truth is (and they will never admit this) but those drills are far LESS realistic than sparring, and they lack the adversarial nature of sparring. And the main part of that nature is the presence of fear. If you do not confront it and capture it, and harness it–throw it in a headlock, kick it in the nuts, and punch it in the chest–you will never be able to tap into the skills that lie on the other side of it.

Fear is the bridge between trained skill and fighting skill. It most likely will paralyze you. In isolated cases, like in the hands of a coward, fear will make a grown man armed with a gun shoot a 17 year old kid half his weight rather than take his ass-whipping like a man. Or cause a knife-trained Kali practitioner to slash and kill an unarmed man because his teacher never taught him to deal with his fear. Again, there is no short cut. It is the one thing that TMA (traditional martial arts) people must learn to incorporate into their martial arts journeys.

If you hear a teacher try and convince you that sparring will create bad habits, but some other non-aggressive type of training will–leave. You are not learning martial arts, you are learning martial-like arts.

Now you teachers must lose the fear of letting your students lose a fight or two. This is the main reason I believe Sifus and Guros prevent their students from competing; the teacher himself never fought and is afraid of the match, so he passes on that fear to his students. Sparring and competition is not about the win. Of course, we all want to win. But what you gain from fighting, win or lose, is so much more valuable than that cheap plastic trophy. You get a full understanding of how techniques work, how your own courage level and reflexes work, and what the erratic chaos of a fight feels like. No seminar, DVD or youtube clip can give you that.

Not even the great Kuntawman can fully explain it in a blog.

We must be tempered at the hands of opponents. We must be dealt with unfairly by judges and cheating opponents. We must be bullied by aggressive fighters, pushed around, struck and taunted. I estimate about 10 fights of this type, and then the butterflies will begin to go away. And when they do, look out, because you have just entered the next phase of your martial arts journey:  You are no longer a martial arts student. You have become a warrior.

Thank you for visiting my blog.

I’ve stated in earlier articles that some teachers are more skilled at teaching beginners, some are good at teaching the advanced, and then others excel at teaching teachers–guiding experts and novice teachers to mastery. You have instructors, you have trainers, you have teachers, and then you have Masters. There is a difference, and there is a hierarchy. Often, teachers do not understand the difference; knowing the difference between the types and levels of teachers–as well as knowing your strengths and weaknesses as a teacher–will help them become better teachers. Ultimately, knowing the difference will help teachers bring their students from the beginner level all the way through the ranks, through the different skills and paths of a martial artist to the true path to mastery. It is at this point that the “certificate” denoting you a Master becomes irrelevant, and you know why I call such a thing silly.

In the beginning of a student’s learning career, the foundation must be developed through rigid adherence to basics and structure. Many teachers skip this level and immediately move towards a free-thinking “create your own path” style of instruction before the student has even learned to move his feet. We know why they do this:  It’s entertaining, good for business, gives the student the illusion that they are learning “advanced” martial arts, and it caters to the impatient nature of new students. Yet in the long run, students never develop the strong root they need to become good fighters in the future. I call this the “seminar” approach to learning. Students simply “pick up” what moves they can memorize, and through casual practice–will learn to do a little bit of demonstrating. Nothing is internalized, and often, the student never even develops the physique he needs to be an effective warrior.

At the beginning stage of a martial artist’s education, he needs an absolute authority in the classroom. He does not need a feel-good babysitter who gives the student everything he asks for. This is the issue I have with students with a little bit of scattered martial arts experience when they join my school. He has seen what is out there and foolishly believes that he is too “advanced” for rudimentary training. He feels that he knows the footwork and questions why he is still practicing his steps. He thinks he knows the basic hits of my Eskrima and wants to get to the drills and disarms. Students must learn that this isn’t Burger King; you don’t get to have it “your way” and place an order for learning this weapon and that technique. My job is to get you started on your martial arts journey with as much skill, knowledge and ability as possible; I couldn’t care less if you were bored while you were learning it. So shut up and train.

At the intermediate and advance stages of the education there shouldn’t be much necessity for a skill in communicating to the student. It is there, that the biggest jump in ability occurs. This is where your students are trained, and repetition becomes key and the fighters are developing that superhuman strength I talk about so much. I have visited over 100 Eskrima classes (well honestly, I’ve never counted. It could be 90 or something) and I have yet to see one where students are tasked with striking to a maximum number of strikes. At the intermediate level, “instruction” is not as important as training. The training is physical, and only after that high level of ability is achieved should students return back to the intellectual style of learning.

Here is where we arrive to the subject of today’s article. At the advanced and instructor level of learning, a different kind of teaching takes place and it is a learning experience for the teacher as well as the student. If you have never brought a student to the expert level then you will be 100% in the dark about this experience. This is where you students should rival you in ability and strength; you should have exhausted your knowledge by this point, and you are guiding your students to surpass you in ability and knowledge. Yes, it is a tall order to think that your students will learn more than you know. But it is the pursuit that will push you over the edge to go from being merely a teacher to becoming a “Master”. I call this the “What next?” stage–where my students can beat me in sparring and force me to pull out the animal in order to put them back in check. Very few men reading this blog have the humility to allow their students to reach this level. And even fewer men reading this article have the knowledge and skill base to bring a student to this level. It is where your students are the best in town, where few other fighters from other gyms can rival your own student’s skills–and those students look to you to tell them what to do next. This is why some great amateur fighters stay with the same trainer after turning pro and then can’t win a single fight. It is why some pro fighters make their way through the ranks and then cannot find their place among the contenders. And it is why some trainers bring their fighters to another trainer to prepare them for the next level of learning, the next level of ability, and the next phase of their journey. Simply put, some teachers just do not have the ability and knowledge to bring a student all the way, when that student has exhausted everything you have to give. It is a very humbling, eye-opening experience.

Teachers can sometimes learn in the process of bringing their expert students to the next phase of their martial journey. They must also be honest with themselves and honest with their students about what they can accomplish as well. If you are a teacher who has never fought in the ring, but now you have a student who is good enough to climb in the ring what do you do? Pretend to train him and possibly turn him into another tomato can? Or try to put together a strategy for preparation and see if it works? Or do you take him to another trainer for supplemental training? This is a major decision for the both of you.

Loyalty can sometimes suppress a potentially great student’s path. Pride can sometimes cause a teacher to suppress his student’s potential as well. I see this all the time when young men bypass full-time training for easier paths to instructorship; and then years later they bring their Black Belt students to competitions to serve as cannon fodder for my students. Poor guys didn’t have a chance because they learned from teachers who never learned to fight themselves. Or worse, decades later, when the young man-turned instructor-turned Master now certifies his underqualified student as a Master himself. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Even when you haven’t accomplished those things yourself, when a student has reached the limits of your knowledge and experience, never forget that you still have more knowledge than the student does. Sending him to another limited teacher would be just as counter-productive. This is what you can do. You can allow your student to teach you, through teaching him. I cannot go more into this subject without teaching you things that I have reserved only for my own students. But I want you to know that at the advanced level of instruction, when your students are nearly as qualified as you are, you can learn while you guide him in his learning. You learn together as you bring him through the next level of your own martial journey, and what you learn there will help you when you teach your next generation of students. In the end, you both will be more knowledgeable and qualified to instruct. It sure beats just slapping a title on a piece of paper and selling it to him. Don’t be too proud to admit to yourself that this new level of teaching is unfamiliar territory; believe me–every martial arts teacher must experience it.

Thanks for visiting my blog.

When two brothers fight, a stranger inherits their father’s harvest

So much wisdom. As it was explained to me, that in my friends’ culture, fathers rely heavily on the work of the sons to till his crops. The “every-man-for-himself” philosophy that we live by in a capitalist society (please don’t take that to mean I am a socialist) keeps many men poor, and allows for the dishonest to exploit the efforts of the honest to gain an unfair share of a community’s potential. When two brothers cannot work together to make their family’s business successful, they leave the door open for another man to come in and reap the benefits of the work they already put in.

We could go on, but this is not a discussion about poor versus rich, or warfare of the classes. I am merely speaking about the behavior of a few men within the same martial arts family that can rip a once-respectable force apart–thereby undoing all the hard work and legacy a great Master passed down to his students.

No need to name names, you can look at any once-strong martial arts organization that became a fragmented, struggling pile of rocks–when it was once the Tower of Babel. Perhaps the tower was strongly built by the father. But when he passed, if too many sons struggle to take the hold of the tower’s minaret–the weight will be too heavy, and the Tower will come crumbling down. It is true, that there is room for a few at the top; it must be within reason. Top-heavy organizations become unstable with growing egos and feuds and too many of the resources being fought over. In the midst of all that war, the students who once held the foundation at the base will go away, be turned off, become someone else’s student… and one day you look around and you no longer have a Tower, you have a pile of rocks.

Imagine how strong a minaret will stand when there are TWO great sons holding it up. Imagine how much fruit your crops will yield when you have TWO sets of hands working the land. Imagine how strong a martial arts style will be if you have TWO men developing, working, researching, and promoting that style.

Reminds me of another African proverb:

When you want to go fast, go alone.

When you want to go far, go together.

I don’t think you heard me.

Men working together will travel further and have more resources to ensure both are equipped for success when they work together. But ego can make one man think he doesn’t need the other, or that the other will slow him down. You have a group of men pushing for the same goal, they will conquer the world. One man alone can do the same, but often must do it dishonestly and unethically. Just think about that for a minute.

My purpose for writing this article isn’t to talk about feuding. But it is to talk about competing. Two men working together while in competition with each other can reap the benefit of working alone as well as the benefit from working as a team.

I noticed that some Eskrima organizations seemed to fizzle out when their Grandmaster die. Various reasons, but I believe the number one reason I have seen is the land-grab for leadership. When a Grandmaster dies in the Filipino art, there is often no knowledge of who the leader is because we have several traditions.

1. Oldest son becomes the new grandmaster
2. Oldest student becomes the new grandmaster
3. Best student becomes the grandmaster
4. Last top student becomes the grandmaster
5. Several men become grandmaster

And so on. What we end up with is a climate where five or six students, all who equally love their master, who equally deserve to be honored and respected–competing against each other because each one feels more entitled, more deserving, or more qualified to be the new grandmaster. So what happens? Hordes of potential students go study from another system rather than side with one master over another. Growth stops because each man is in competition with his brother, hoping to outdo, outperforms, outlast and discredit his brother. Neither man realizing that by discrediting his brother, he discredits himself and ultimately he discredits his Master as well.

Reminds me of the arguments between Jews, Muslims and Christians:  ”The God YOU worship is crap! I have the true religion!”–Yet we all pray to the same God who created Adam, Eve, Noah, Abraham… go figure. Brothers praying to the same God, saying “Bless me, not him…”

Yeah, okay. In the meantime, Atheists and Hindus shake their heads at the creation of the same religion bickering. And they pass out flyers while we argue.

I love competition. I have seen some really talented fighters come up competing against each other all through childhood, but they love each other as brothers, they push each other, they try to outdo one another, and regardless of which one is known to be the champion–they are equally proud of each other’s accomplishments. In the end, guess what? BOTH men are known as billy badass, butt-kicking warriors.

^^^ This, my friends ^^^ is how you grow a style, how you multiply a father’s bounty, how you excel in the art using your brother as a sharpening stone–not a stepping stone. And where you find this kind of synergy within a family style, hang around because the next top Masters are in the making, and the Grandmaster’s system is sure to grow within this new generation. The goal is to make yourself look good, outdo your brother so that the whole system looks good. Never forget that. Even when two brothers compete, it should be for sharpening purposes for you both–never to downgrade the other. Stone sharpens stone. A minaret stands taller and stronger when it is upheld by TWO men, rather than one.

I was honored to witness a demonstration by two young Eskrimadors, students of Master Darren Tibon–Chez (his son) and Gelmar Cabales (son of the Grandmaster Angel).  I actually saw these two young men fight 11 years ago in San Francisco as teens, and one of them (Gelmar) beat my student. I only briefly met the two but watching them interact I see what would have been two fighters who, if they were from separate gyms, would have been fierce rivals. However, because they came from the same teacher, they are training partners and one would be hard-pressed to figure out who was better. An onlooker asked me, “Which do you think is better?” My answer? It doesn’t matter, because they are from the same style, same teacher. They may have a competition going between them, but I would say it makes them better than if they were training alone.

And I can assure you, their Master’s crop will yield plenty. Thank you for visiting my blog.

Oh, and enjoy the demonstration. Mabuhay Serrada!

I’d like to add this note–that fighting is not an exact science. There are many variables and the rules are there to be upheld, broken, modified, proven or dis-proven. It would be foolish to speak in absolutes when we are talking about fighting, but there are many exceptions although some of them may be less valuable than others.

In many cases of teaching the fighting arts, the teachers did not gain their own fighting experience. For example, my younger brother and I had both suffered serious head injuries while young men. He stopped fighting, I kept on for 10 years after mine. But my brother was my “cornerman” for many of my fights during my 20s and gained a wealth of knowledge by being ringside while I both competed and trained and sparred in gyms. He had many ideas that I disagreed with, but knowing that he could not climb in the ring (my brother had undergone reconstructive surgery to his skull) I took his ideas and in many cases adopted his techniques and strategies. Today at 41, my brother knows a lot more about fighting than many lifelong Guros and Sifus older than he is.

Which leads me to my point. Fighting teachers must do more than learn an art and then start teaching. They must get hands-on experience. In cases when they cannot–or simply fail to get it–there is a good option. That option is what all boxing trainers do whether or not they had a fight career of their own. The teachers must bring a group of fighters up through the ranks to the best of their ability (their, being the teacher’s and the fighters’) and get them in front of opponents. It must be frequent, and it must be as often as possible. If you do not have your own fighting experiences, you owe it to your fighters to have them test those ideas for you. And you owe it to your fighters to suck up your pride, allow your methods and ideas to become molded as parts of your system are tested, fail and show signs of needing tweaking here and there. It is the fool of a teacher who insists to his students that the problem in a fighting system is the student rather than the system itself. When fighters are green and still learning, it’s one thing. When they are advance, experienced and well-trained (and losing) it’s another. You must allow the art you created to show you that it is valid, as much as you must allow the art to tell you that it needs modifying. There is no shame in that; even the greatest fighters we admire have all gone through the stages of learn-fight-change-grow. Admit to yourself that you do not know it all and make your art better–on the backs of your faithful pupils. In the end, you will have a much better system of fighting.

I’d like to say a few more things as well. Sometimes we believe that it is honoring our teachers and masters by keeping their systems intact without making adjustments and including our own findings from research. I completely disagree. Most of our teachers, while they may have inherited systems from their masters, have made adjustments before they taught us. If we fail to try and improve their art, we allow the art to become stale, static and outdated. Other systems and fighters and schools are constantly improving and experimenting. If we don’t keep up in the name of tradition, we will fall behind and the art once-known for being progressive and effective will become obsolete. What a shame! Your master trusted you with it, and your students are trusting you as well to give them the most effective technique you can. Many a student has had the misfortune of learning under a stubborn teacher who insisted his student take a stale, ineffective art onto the floor. Don’t do that to your guys.

Allow your fighters to teach you while you teach them. The process of Advanced Teaching is a two-way street, even for the most knowledgeable and and best fighters. Listen to their feedback and chart their progress and honestly look into yourself to find the solution to the question: Is there a better way to do this?

The Master-Teachers all know the answer. Thank you for visiting my blog.

And pour yourself a pot of coffee or tea:  this will be a long one.

First, for those who are unfamiliar with Bouie Fisher, he is the trainer of Hasim Rahman and more famously, boxing master Bernard Hopkins. These two men are perfect examples of the saying to “exceed the teacher”. Fisher was a good amateur who did not turn pro (or perhaps he did not fight long as a pro). He had eight children with his wife, and the life of a fighter is not financially stable enough for many men to be able to gamble their family’s standard of living on it. I wasn’t there, but I suspect (like many fighters) his wife probably told him to get a job. Either way, Fisher became a trainer and after 20 – 30 years of doing so–retired from boxing. He had a fighting philosophy that was unique, but no champion to prove its worth–or perhaps no student to fully develop those theories into proven methods.

Maybe I should jump in here to say something about that.

Any teacher can come up with a theory about fighting and technique. We do it all the time. We all have students to teach those theories to. But not every student will be suited to completely learn, develop, master, test, and prove those theories. The teacher must either be that fighter himself, or get someone to be that ultimate student. This is the dilemma of striking out on your own and forming your own style. Most teachers, unfortunately, become stuck at the theory level. Meaning, they form the theory and simply start teaching it–skipping all the stages of development. Sometimes it’s due to ignorance. Sometimes it’s due to laziness. Many times it is due to their desire not to have those theories tested, and possibly proven wrong. Ego has kept many teachers’ methods from being fully developed. Fear is the other head of that oppressive monster. Teachers have the dual challenge of devising a superior fighting style as well as finding the appropriate student to carry that technique forward. Many teachers just don’t want to have a champion who is known to be better than themselves. Few teachers, however, are driven to have a student who not only proves his method is superior–not only to exceed his own skills–he is willing to sit in the background and allow his student to rise all the way to the top, even if onlookers fail to give the master credit for the students’ success. One of the things I can tell you about the difference between boxing teachers and martial arts teachers:  Boxing teachers flaunt their students’ successes as for their pride. Martial art teachers promote themselves. Look at the websites. Master so and so will tell you all about his accomplishments, but don’t tell you crap about his students. Boxing teachers tell you almost nothing about themselves, instead choosing to boost up their pupils. A martial arts teachers’ resume is padded with his own accomplishments, while boxing teachers’ resumes contain nothing but students. Think about it. The big lesson from Bouie Fisher was that he was extremely proud of his fighters, and pushed harder and harder for his students to be known as the best in the business. Despite that his prized student was the pound for pound best fighter in the world for years–Fisher was relatively unknown, silent during interviews, and satisfied. Talk about selfless commitment to the role of a teacher…

And let’s keep in mind two things. First, Fisher did not have a lot of fighting experience. He had fights, yes. But he had to cut his fighting career short, so what experience he was able to accomplish, he used as a base for his theories about fighting. His system was mostly untested, by professional fight standards. Secondly, his method represented an older school of fighting. As fighting became more mobile and based on points, rounds became shorter, and the fighting rules were more concerned with safety–many of his methods were being considered outdated. But worse–they were considered inferior to the new methods, which were becoming known for efficiency and less prone to being countered. When he retired the first time in the 80s, Fisher joined the ranks of boxing trainers whose methods were obsolete. Then someone suggested he took a look at an up-and-coming lightweight named Bernard Hopkins.

Bernard had lost his first fight, and was entering the fight game at an age most would deem too old to start a career in boxing. But he was hard-working and disciplined, and these two factors made him a good prospect for tutelage. Those of you who are teachers know exactly what I’m talking about; we all encounter physically talented, but lazy students. You can bring out hard work ethic in a student, but it isn’t easy. When you find a student who is both hungry for knowledge but also naturally hard working, baby you just hit the jackpot. Who among us wouldn’t love to have a gym full of these guys?

I’m going to stop now, because if you’re a fight fan, you know the rest. B-Hop is known as one of the craftiest, old-school fighters in the game. He had lost a few times, but no opponent had ever made him look like a fool in the ring. If you get in the ring with this man, he will beat your ass. You might beat him on the scorecards, but he will leave you lumpy at the end of the night. He is proof–at 48 years old–that old-school boxing is alive and well, and relevant. Not just that, he also proof that a man pushing 50 can still defeat the young men half his age with superior tactics. Fisher’s system was not fully tested and proven, but with the right student as well as the desire to allow his student to surpass himself in skill and reputation–the master is able to see that system become a well-established school of fighting in the community. I predict that old school boxing methods will make a return to the fight game. I am personally not a fan of the flashy style of boxing so popular today.

And let’s take a look at Bouie’s fighting style, shall we?

• The goal of the fight plan isn’t to rack up points, but to punish and beat your opponent into submission
• Every technique must hurt and wear down the opponent
• You keep moving so that opponent’s can only catch you with glancing blows, but
• You stop only to fire on the opponent
• Attacks must be delivered from a position where the opponent has trouble seeing the attack as well as
• Being out of range of a possible counter
• Keep the feet near the opponent, but keep the angle of your torso away from his line of fire
• Kill the body with body shots
• And deliver those body shots from a position that protects you from counter
• Apply constant pressure on the opponent, anytime he is not punching you should make him eat punches
• If a split second passes at the end of the opponent’s attack and he is withing range, make him pay for it
• As soon as your combination attack is complete–move away.
• Defeat your opponent by keeping him out of balance emotionally and psychologically
• Rather than move back and forth, move side-to-side
• Attack your opponent when he attempts to change positions
• Punch outside of rhythm. In other words punch before stopping your feet (which 99% of fighters do), so your attack will come while you move
• Block with your elbows and shoulders, not with footwork (compare this to the Ali shuffle/Roy Jones Jr dancing)–it keeps you in range to fire back
• Within 2 – 3 seconds, shots should be delivered to both head and lower body
• Attack the hip and the front of the shoulders. It keeps the opponent from being able to punch as well as move his feet. This is an “investment” that will pay off later

There is more to the strategy, but I think this is plenty for you to take in.  I would like to encourage you to check out some old fights and see for yourself how these theories look in application. You may want to add them to your own arsenal. Thank you for visiting my blog.