SUDDEN

 by Phillip Starr

There's a real difference between what I call “sudden” and what is referred to as “speed.” Speed is the velocity at which a given technique travels. Certainly, speed is an important factor in maximizing the destructive force of a given technique but such force is just so much wasted effort if it never impacts its intended target. One of the main reasons that your techniques may fail to strike their marks is lack of suddenness.

The word “sudden” is defined as, “...without warning, unexpectedly, occurring without transition from the previous form or state...” When you face your opponent (whether you're in some kind of formal fighting posture or a natural posture) and an opening appears, you must take advantage of it immediately. Your movement must be completely unexpected and occur without warning. This sounds easy enough to do but, like most other aspects of the martial ways, it isn't...not by a long shot.

Unless you've trained specifically to eliminate a common problem known as “telegraphing”, you're probably unconsciously doing it. In so far as martial arts practice is concerned, a “telegraph” is a physical signal that you're about to execute a given technique. Some telegraphs are rather large and obvious while others may be relatively small and harder to detect. There are two highly effective ways to determine if you are “telegraphing” your techniques.

One method involves practicing in front of a full-length mirror that allows you to view your entire body, from the top of your head to your feet. Face the mirror and deliver your technique as quickly and as powerfully as possible (it's pointless to practice to move quickly if there's no “bang” in your technique...). Watch yourself very closely. Study your reflection and be honest with yourself. Look for any small signals (professional poker players call them “tells”) that occur just prior to the technique; a drop of the shoulder(s), shifting weight, setting your jaw, a twitch of your hand, tightening your lips, raising your eyebrows, even the flaring of the nostrils is enough to warn an opponent that you're about to attack.

A second practice method involves the cooperation of a partner. He will stand in front of you and watch closely as you perform your technique(s). If he sees a “tell”, he'll inform you. You can also have him hold a striking pad within striking range. Your objective is to strike the pad suddenly and powerfully. If your partner sees your attack coming, he should pull the pad out of range and tell you about your “telegraph.”

Some of my students who were fortunate enough to train with very senior martial arts instructors remarked that the instructor, although rather advanced in years, was able to move with such speed that they simply couldn't avoid his blows. More often than not, this strange phenomenon is often the result of extensive practice to eliminate “telegraphing”; the senior's technique appears suddenly and without warning, which makes them seem to be extraordinarily fast. Such skill can and should applied not only to individual techniques, but to whole body movements as well. It can be done only if you move from your dantien (“tanden” in Japanese), which is an area in the lower abdomen. Training to move in this fashion is fully explained in my book, “Martial Mechanics.”

It is my opinion that “suddenness” is more important than speed alone. As you age, your speed will decrease bit by bit but your ability to move “suddenly” won't. This isn't to say that you needn't train to maximize your speed; on the contrary, do so!!! Just remember that speed alone isn't enough. Learn to execute your techniques and body movements swiftly and abruptly so they become the personification of the word, “sudden.”

THE SPACES IN BETWEEN

 by Phillip Starr

There is a saying that tell us, “The music is not in the notes, but the silence in between.” This is a very profound statement that can apply not only to music, but to martial arts as well. In your forms there are spaces between the various postures. Some are larger than others, but they're there, nonetheless. And they're not empty.

Take a close look at them, one by one; exactly where are your hands placed? Where is your weight held? The position of the hips and feet? Just what is the application of the posture you've just completed? In what position is your opponent following that application?

Many of the old masters who created our forms were real big on the concept of “implied.” Oftentimes, the primary technique or a follow-up technique is IMPLIED within the so-called “empty space” but it can be found ONLY if your hands, feet, hips, and all the rest are in exactly the proper position. If those position(s) are altered by someone who doesn't possess a complete understanding of the form, the “implied” techniques and their subsequent applications are lost.

Oftentimes, only the “entry” to the intended technique is shown. The rest is implied. Why is this? I believe the reason(s) are twofold:

*It ensured that only those who were devoted students would find them. Students who were interested only in learning how to fight quickly would never find them. Finding them isn't easy and requires a good deal of work and practice.

*It also helped “camoflouge” the real techniques of the system. People who might spy on the training would never see them and it helped keep the true art hidden from the view of unworthies.

So...are you truly a devoted practitioner? Do you consider yourself worthy enough to learn the whole art? If the answer to these questions is “yes”, then you've got some work ahead of you...

Seven Years For The Foundation

 by Phillip Starr

     Last April marked my 65th year in the martial arts. I recall looking through a copy of my first book, The Making Of A Butterfly, and thinking back to my early days of training under Master W. Chen.  I remembered something he'd said that made me wonder if I would be able to continue training in the Chinese martial arts.

     I was in the throes of a religious experience. That is, I thought I was seeing God! I was doing my best to hold the "ma" (commonly known as "ma-bu", but more correctly called "qi ma-bu", or "horse-riding stance"). My legs were on fire and shaking like a jackhammer. I could hardly keep my back straight and breathe correctly. I collapsed, of course, but I resolved to get right back up and continue the exercise. And within a few seconds my legs gave way again.

     Sifu Chen stopped me and told me about the vital importance of learning the "ma", of building a solid foundation. He told me that the first seven years of training were devoted to this end.

SEVEN YEARS???

     Yep. He said it calmly, as if it was a fact that everybody knew and accepted. I couldn't imagine continuing this kind of training for seven years! But that's what he meant and that's exactly what I ended up doing.

     Oh sure, I was taught many other things during that time. I learned all kinds of techniques and forms and two-person exercises and joint techniques and throws and...lots of stuff. But the emphasis on the ma was always there. I can't count the number of times that I listened to lectures about the importance of it.

     I figured that if it was important enough for my sifu to constantly lecture us about it, it was something I'd better practice. A lot. And I did. Eventually, I came to understand its value. This isn't something that can be completely understood just by reading or thinking about it. It has to be practiced, physically experienced over an extended period of time. That's the only way to "get it", to acquire the knowledge and ability that comes as a result of such painful practice.

     The reason I thought about it was because my editor had sent me a copy of a little blurb they were putting on the back cover of my book. It's a quote from the book about learning the "ma." I thought about how long it had been since I'd first started training and then noticed another line they'd put on the cover...that I'd been training for over 50 years (at the time the manuscript was sent in, it was only 48 1/2 years) and I was stunned. I guess time flies when you're having fun.

     But even after five decades of practice (part of which passed before I met Sifu Chen), I have to say that he was absolutely right. Without a proper foundation, learning real martial arts is impossible.

     Building a strong "ma" doesn't necessarily mean that you only practice standing in a horse-riding stance for a certain length of time each day; it also has to do with learning how to step, how to shift your weight and move, how to stand in other stances (although the "ma" is the mother of all stances), how your breathing affects your movement, how your yi (intention) affects your movement, how to maintain balance when standing still and moving...lots of things. But they all have to do with the foundation. The "ma."

     I remember back when beginning judo students were made to spend most of their practice time learning not only ukemi (breakfalls), but the basic stance (jigotai). It's kind of a second cousin to the "ma." Students practiced shifting and stepping in this position. Times have changed; I don't think most modern judoists have ever in so much as even heard of this posture.

     There's no question that the vast majority of contemporary kung-fu (and karate) practitioners have ever practiced the "ma." They may know what it is but they don't "have" it. They can intellectualize about it but they have no real foundation.

     Sometimes I hear internal stylists argue that they don't use the horse-riding stance very much, if at all. That's fine. "Ma" literally means "horse" (as well as other things), but the term "ma" when it's use in conjunction with fundamental stance(s) simply refers to the style's most basic way of standing. In xingyiquan, baguazhang, the basic stance is "sanzai" (aka. "sancai"). That's their "ma." In taijiquan - well, it depends on who you talk to...some would say they do have a horse-riding stance (it appears in the posture known as Commencement) while others use the "sanzai" stance. Whatever. The point is that they do have a single, fundamental stance.

     The problem is that most martial arts enthusiasts nowadays don't practice their "ma" anymore. In many cases their teachers don't (and probably never have), either. The teacher is sometimes afraid that if he makes students engage in such uncomfortable training, they'll quit - and that means loss of income. So they don't make students do it anymore. And now we're seeing the results - martial arts practitioners who have no real power, no real skill. No "ma."

     I remember that my sifu used to insist that if we stood in the "ma" every day, our vital energy (qi) would eventually sink down to the dantien and we would be able to express great power. I couldn't imagine how this was possible. How could standing in this painful position accomplish that?

     And he said that unless we built a solid "ma" we'd never be able to emit real power. We'd have no true strength. That confused me, too. But he was absolutely right. And after watching the development of martial arts over the last fifty years, I must say that this old time-tested training method needs to be re-emphasized.

     Practicing the "ma" has a positive impact on both physical and mental health, too. Many years ago, kung-fu teachers in China would often recommend it as a sort of therapy for a variety of ailments, especially for problems with the stomach and intestines. It was prescribed for some respiratory sicknesses, too.

It's also an excellent tool for developing a strong yi (intention) and spirit. Try standing in it for ten or fifteen minutes and you'll understand why.

     Most students loathe this kind of training. They want to jump right into the martial arts and get into the "meat" of it. They fail to see how standing in some static posture or doing boring drills like "walking the square horse" are going to help them become superior fighters.

     But they do. It just takes time. You can't hurry the process. You have to learn patience, you have to willing to endure great discomfort, and you have to develop an iron will.

     For seven years.

THE RYU

 by Phillip Starr

We've all heard of a plethora of styles that end in the (Japanese) word, “ryu.” Contrary to what many people think, “ryu” doesn't mean “style.” Its meaning is rather different as is what it necessarily infers.

It is a generic term used to denote the flow of water; ryuto is the practice of drifting candlelight lanterns on a stream during summer festivals honoring the dead and a ryusei is a falling star. And so it is consistent in the land of the expressive language and running water that “ryu” would be the character denoting the flow of formal traditions of all the arts of Japan, including their martial arts.

Before the 15^th century, military combat there was literally hit or miss and success on the battlefield depended upon the warrior's ability to survive long enough to assess and learn from his experiences. It wasn't until the Muromachi Period (1300-1600) that warrior clans began to organize their skills, polish them, and transmit them to other clan members. Thus began the evolution of the Japanese martial “ryu.” Each one developed its own identity, its own peculiar strategies, certain weapons that they favored, and so on. A given “ryu” was passed down through generations of samurai who maintained and nurtured it.

I recall my friend, Master Seiyu Oyata (10^th dan, now dec.) telling me that prior to the end of WWII, karate had no “ryu.” “Karate was just karate”, he said. “One teacher would specialize in a very small number of kata or techniques (some specializing in just one) and IF you learned well, they would send you to another teacher who specialized in something different...”

At the end of the war, Okinawa's economy was non-existant and people did whatever they had to do in order to survive. Enter the American G.I. (U.S. Marines) who occupied Okinawa. They had money, which the local inhabitants needed and coveted. “After the war”. Master Oyata continued, “the different karate teachers began referring to what they taught as 'ryu' so they could become better known to American soldiers. That was the start of the karate 'ryu'.”

I asked for a clearer explanation of “ryu.” He told me, “A ryu is a tradition that has been passed down through generations for a long time. So a 'new' style of karate should not be called a “ryu.”

SELF-DEFENSE IN THE REAL WORLD

 by Phillip Starr

Back in 1984, I was talking to several of my students about self-defense in the real world. Two of them were sheriff's deputies and although I'd been a peace officer myself, I knew they were a lot more up to date on current trends in violent crime. Someone asked about the odds of an assailant being armed. I estimated that there was probably a good 90% chance of that but the deputies quickly corrected me. “If someone is out looking for a fight”, they said, “the odds are about 98% that they're armed with something.” This “something” could be anything from a length of cable to a knife or even a handgun, they said. But the fact was that most street thugs were armed. Period. And remember this occurred in 1984! The odds of a scumbag being armed nowadays is pretty much 100%. He may or may not choose to use the weapon that he's carrying, but you can bet that he's got one.

I've spent many years studying and developing highly effective defensive techniques against weapons. I'm living proof that they work; as a peace officer there were several occasions when I had to bet my life on their efficiency. However, in the years that I studied various types of defensive techniques against an armed opponent, I saw that many, perhaps most, of them simply won't work. This surprised me greatly. I'd thought that our martial arts forefathers would have developed very practical, effective techniques to deal with armed aggressors.

To further complicate matters was the fact that our martial arts ancestors never had to deal with one particular type of weapon. Firearms simply didn't exist in their day. As the need for defensive maneuvers against the handgun increased, numerous contemporary martial arts teachers came to the fore and worked to develop them. Most of them simply will not work. I believe that this is because the majority of teachers who designed them had never been on the wrong end of a firearm that was being held by someone who meant to do them serious harm. They also neglected to study how the types of handguns (the revolver and the semi-automatic) work. It can make a considerable difference, believe me.

And the one subject that almost no one bothered to study is the psychology of the armed foe. I believe this is a crucial part of self-defense training. It's important to study every small aspect of this subject because, as Master Masatoshi Nakayama (former President of the Japan Karate Association and student of Gichin Funakoshi) told us, “Defending yourself against a firearm is like skydiving. You can only fail once.” He also said that if your opponent is armed, he has the advantage. You may have trained in a martial art for thirty years but if a 12 yr. old child draws a knife or a firearm and points it at you, the child has the advantage.

Some of the best information about dealing with armed aggressors came from Col. Jeff Cooper (dec.), founder of one of the world's finest combat shooting schools known as Gunsite. I won't go into details here but I'll give credit where credit is due and admit freely that I borrowed several principles that he taught. The only difference is that he taught them to people who would defend themselves with a handgun; I teach them to people who are unarmed.

Too often instructors concern themselves with the weapon. That is, they teach students to fight the weapon rather than the person wielding it. I feel this is a serious error. Many teachers emphasize disarming the enemy, which is, in my opinion, another serious error. If you focus on disarming the opponent, you can quickly become engaged in a sort of wrestling contest. The problem is that your enemy is armed. You aren't. He means to take your life. You aim to disarm him. Who do you suppose is most likely to walk away from such an encounter? The first rule to remember about self-defense is, “There are no rules.”

When facing an armed opponent, I present my students with a list of guidelines that they always bear in mind and apply to their training:

1. The best defense is to RUN! If this is not possible or practical (as in the case of defending oneself or one's family and loved ones), determine that you are going to have to kill the aggressor.

3. If any suitable object is at hand, grab it and use it as a weapon against your enemy. Obviously, this doesn't apply when facing an opponent who is armed with a handgun.

4. If the weapon is a fiream, get out of the line of attack.  However, if the weapons is a knife or another object which requires the the aggressor must strike you, STEP INTO his attack and attack the attack!

4. Gain and maintain control of the weapon at all times. There is no need to disarm the enemy but you must keep control over his ability to use his weapon.

5. Kill him as quickly as possible. Don't rely on joint twisting or throwing techniques; there's too great a chance that something could go wrong. Do what must be done as quickly as you can.

Of course, there are many details that I simply can't include here. Let me simply say that these defensive techniques require vigorous, regular practice until they can be applied without conscious effort. If and when you need to apply them for real, you won't have time to stop and think about what to do.

When we teach self-defense to our students we should make a clear distinction between what I call “basic self-defense”, which involves defensive techniques against common forms of assault such as grabbing, choking, and so forth, and “advanced self-defense”, which involves defensive techniques to be used against the armed aggressor. This brings to mind another interesting point; what is the most common form of unarmed attack? Some years ago, FBI statistics showed that it was the common push! It was, and likely still is, the “entering” tactic used by most street thugs. That is, it frequently precedes his main attack. Oftentimes, it IS his main attack! Defending oneself against a sudden, violent push isn't as easy as it sounds, however.

Many martial arts teachers prefer not to teach defensive techniques to their students until they reach higher levels of skill. I believe that they should be taught in the earlier stages of a student's training. After all, she may need it long before she reaches the level of brown or black belt. Her life may depend on it.

THE REAL KUMITE

 by Phillip Starr

The Japanese term that is usually translated as “sparring” is kumite. In Chinese, this is pronounced zushou. Is is a term that is comprised of two characters; kumi (or zu) and te (or shou). The first character actually refers to a group or class and the second character means simply, “hand.” Thus, the actual written form of kumite has nothing to do with freestyle sparring, per se. Rather, it refers to a form of group practice.

The two most common forms of kumite that are practiced in traditional karate are sanbon kumite and ippon kumite (three-time kumite and one-time kumite, respectively). These training routines were in existence long before the popular exercise of jyu-kumite (freestyle kumite) came into existence. They were, as their names suggest, practiced in group fashion. Even if there were only two participants in the class, both would have to engage in this “group training.”

In both sanbon kumite and ippon kumite, one participant assumes the role of the attacker (he will be referred to as the uke, which means “receiver”, because he will receive the defender's counter-attack), and the other acts as the tori (who defends himself and, at the conclusion of the exercise, executes a crisp counter-movement). In sanbon kumite, the aggressor delivers three prearranged attacks. In ippon kumite, he will execute only one. Usually, tori's counter-attack is likewise prearranged, so both participants know exactly what's going to happen.

Once a student's movements are clean and quick, sanbon kumite is to be used as an exercise that will teach him how to break his opponent's rhythm. This is usually practiced for some time before ippon kumite is introduced; ippon kumite is a mofre advanced exercise because the aggressor will deliver only a single attack and the defender must respond instantly with the appropriate counter-measure.

I remember practicing these two forms of kumite countless numbers of times while my instructors watched and complained loudly about almost everything we did. Persistent practice over a long period of time seemed to alleviate our teacher's distress and we continued to practice these routines until our movements were crisp and precise. Freestyle sparring wasn't even mentioned for rather a long time.

I think it is well to consider that our martial arts forefathers never engaged in the practice of jyu-kumite. Why? Well, it simply didn't exist, as we know it, until the end of WWII. And yet, their fighting skills are the stuff of legend. Think on that for a while.

I also remember training very assiduously to learn to control my kicks and punches, directing them at a brick wall until I could stop them just short of contact. When we trained, we never wore any kind of hand pads, footpads, or headgear. It hadn't been invented at that time! When such “protective gear” was first introduced in the 1970's, I deplored its use and said that it would eventually lead to a general deterioration of proper technique. Nobody listened to me. But if you look at our current form of karate, taekwondo, and kung-fu competitions, I think you'll understand that my words were true... but that's a subject for another time.

The truth is that the practice of jyu-kumite is not necessarily essential for the development of real fighting skill. Rigorous and regular practice of sanbon kumite, ippon kumite, and jyu-ippon kumite (freestyle one-time kumite) are.