2007
29th April 2007
Budokwai grading report by Barry Hutchings
"So there was I... in the birthplace of British judo, wondering why I hadn't taken up Salsa lessons with the missus! I mean, what was I thinking of? I'm forty-eight years old and with arthritic elbows. My last grading was twenty-nine years ago and there wasn't another blue belt there who even existed in those days! So I walked around the mat, self-consciously shaking a wrist, twisting a foot and rotating my hips, whilst all around me these young, honed athletes practised uchi-komi with a frightening determination. I considered going to the loo and slipping out of the window. I had visions of running down the Kings Road in my judo suit, chased by a horde of angry blue belts:
The grading started. White belts first, then gradually, through the grades leading up to blue. The bouts were tough and aggressive and I noted that a large percentage of the competitors had Russian sounding names. There was even a Nepalese Green belt - a Gurkha on leave - who demolished his opponents with a frightening scream at the end of each throw. I almost expected him to whip out his knife and slit their throats.
Then it was my turn. I almost died of fear when they called my name - and again when they called my opponent. A Russian with a name like Vladimir Bolokofski. What I am doing fighting a bloody Russian! I mean... we all know how tough Russians are; they're raised on vodka, kettlebells, and wrestling. They EAT their own vodka glasses to save on the washing up!
We faced each other and the ref shouted "Hajime!"
We took grips. I kid you not he was a monster. Strong... powerful... and with breath to match. I tried to manoeuvre him into a favourable position - but my strength seemed to be neutered. He launched his attack, but I managed to crash it out and we both fell to the floor - no points scored. Usually I like groundwork but on this occasion I decided to get up as quickly as I could! The ref called us together again and we restarted the bout. My nerves were gone now, cleansed by the first few seconds of violence. This time it was me who took the powerful grip. He seemed to like this and he responded likewise. We fought each other like two bulls locked in a trial of strength. I could almost hear the 'tut-tutting' of the venerable examiners at our display of catch-as-can wrestling, as we grabbed at each other's legs and tried to lift each other off of the ground. To be fair, he was better at this than me, and he managed to have me staggering a few times. But when he launched his big attacks I always crashed them out, pushing him face down into the mat. He seemed reluctant to do groundwork with me and curled himself into a tight hedgehog position. He was impossible to open up. The bout went the distance - four minutes - and with no points scored it was declared a draw. At least I hadn't lost!
The Gurkha -who had seemed to have taken a liking to me - said that I had done well, and advised me to walk around the mat and loosen up.
When the next bout came I was much more relaxed. We took grips and I knew from that moment that this was going to be a much easier affair. I won with two wazaris- both from counter attacks. I have no idea how I did them or what they were. (Probably some kind of a hybrid-twisting hip throw)
Unfortunately I was not given a third bout and so I only advanced one grade to second kyu. It seems I will have wait unit July before I mount the top rung of the brown belt ladder. In the meantime I will still be sitting to the left of the club's venerable first kyus!
And so, with all my bouts done, there was nothing left to do but watch the Japanese student take his line-up and give his demonstration of perfect judo. Of course he won his black belt. He was Japanese wasn't he?"
Ed says...
There is a real race on in the club now with Barry, Ranj, Matt and Steve all on the verge of gaining thier Black Belts. Who will get there first ?
