THE REAL TEST

 by Phillip Starr

The Japanese word for “tournament” is “shiai.” It is comprised of two radicals, the first of which is “shi” (试). In Chinese it is also “shi”, which is pronounced very differently in Pinyin. It means “test.” The second radical, “ai” in Japanese and “he” in Chinese (合) means, roughly, “join, together.” So, the original forms of shiai were placed wherein participants could test themselves. With the passage of time this has changed, even in Japan. This concept never really caught on in the West where the sole objective of such an event is to WIN. There's a considerable difference.

In the misty past when I used to compete, I tended to regard these contests as learning experiences and I must say that I learned a lot from them. Mostly about myself. Sure, I chased trophies for awhile but I quickly matured beyond that. And I would test myself, finding out where my weaknesses were and where I needed improvement.

I never had time for the type of behavior that we see all too often nowadays, with the winner of an event jumping up and down, raising his arms and fists in the air. And I met some rather curious individuals along the way during those years... For instance, there were those who regarded themselves as just “too dangerous” for competition. Being the impish type, I'd sometimes taunt them with remarks like, “Well, let's see how dangerous you really are! C'mon, join the fun!” Of course, they never did.

I recall a young martial arts practitioner who was the golden child of the martial arts media and even Hollywood. In an interview with one of the magazines of the day, he was asked why he never entered competitions. His response? “I'm just too dangerous.” And you know what I think of people who respond with such statements...

Then were the alleged “national champions” I met who were from foreign eastern nations. I noted one such individual who was attired in a 3-piece suit that cost more than I made in six months, and platform heels. He was strutting about, watching the action and making sure that his hair was just so. I told you I was rather impish...so I sauntered up to him and asked if he was planning to compete. He acted as if I'd just slapped him in the face as he shot back his reply, “No! I'm a XXXXX (name of nation) national champion!” I smiled and said, “Well, this isn't XXXX. This is America; the most competitive country on earth. If you can be a champion here, you can be a champion anywhere! So how about giving it a shot?” He snorted loudly as if I'd just sneezed on him and strutted off.

Many practitioners had egos so huge that they dared no test themselves, lest the result be considerably less than what they expected. Unfortunately, most tournaments nowadays have become little more than semi-gymnastic displays of baton-twirling, flip kicks, and taps on the head. I hope that someday we can bring them back to their original intended purpose... to test ourselves.