Quote:MAYWEATHER VERSUS PACQUIAO: BEYOND THE HYPE
FIGHTLAND BLOG
By Nick Wong
Photo by John Gurzinski/AFP/Getty
As a long-time boxing enthusiast, I’m as excited as the next person for the mega-fight between Floyd Mayweather Jr. and Manny Pacquiao tonight at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. Just the mere occurrence of the fight is an impressive feat of overcoming a number of obstacles. From drug tests to purse splits to peace treaties between rival promoters and rival networks, this fight has mended the many broken bridges that were previously thought to be unmendable in the sport of boxing. But on the eve on what’s being touted as one of the best fights in boxing history, it is important to remember one thing: it’s not.
On a recent HBO segment called “The Legends Speak” George Foreman lists the fight as the third greatest fight in boxing history, ranking only the first meeting of Ali and Frazier, and Joe Louis vs. Max Schmeling II ahead of it. Maybe Foreman was being modest about his own accomplishments, but at least for me, the “Rumble in the Jungle” held much more social and athletic significance than a matchup between Mayweather and Pacquiao could ever hold. Even the mere mention of this fight amongst the aforementioned bouts of legend is a bit of a stretch. Ali’s bout against Frazier held both significant political and racial implications at the height of the Vietnam War, as did the rematch between Joe Louis and Max Schmeling for World War II (though much, if not all, of Schmeling’s association with the Nazi party was later found to be media propaganda). This fight, on the other hand, is more of a matchup between two fighters who have had great media machines behind them.
I’m not really a fan of either fighter entering the ring on Saturday night. In terms of their respective personalities (at least as much as one can tell from published media), I think they’re more similar to each other than what’s been presented.
Looking at Mayweather’s affect on the life of teammate Nate Jones, and other charitable acts of the past, such as footing the funeral bill of Genaro Hernández or financially sponsoring the Michigan Golden Gloves one year, he’s probably not as horrible as we’re led to believe. And there are principles that I agree with when it comes to Floyd Mayweather. Hard work. Dedication. Loyalty. Those are ideals that I can stand behind. Some of his actions outside of boxing, however, are ones that I can’t. His multiple convictions for domestic violence against women and the obsessive worship of material wealth run contrast to anything previously thought of as noble.
Photo by Jamie Squire/Getty Images
Across the ring is Manny Pacquiao, the multi-tasking philanthropic boxing congressman who is a reborn-believer in God. But while his recent actions involving the Bali Nine is admirable, not much is brought up regarding his questionable history with the IRS, or his documented past with compulsive gambling and martial infidelity. I’ve also wondered how much of his perceived humility was for the camera and how much transferred over in real life. I mean if Mayweather turned out to be an arrogant asshole in person, at least I’d have a heads up about it beforehand.
This is not to say the past defines a man, or an attempt to pass moral judgment on two fighters I’ve never met, rather it is to argue that the fight is between two people, not cartoon depictions of good and evil. And after all, this is a sporting event, so it is the matchup of talent and greatness inside of the ring that matters.
Yet even on that standard, I’d say the fight falls short.
One of the first things to be mentioned in attributing Pacquiao’s greatness is his supposed championship reign through 8 different weight divisions—a factoid that is only true if you consider “The Ring” title (a belt sanctioned by a magazine) or the disregarded IBO belt as legitimate claims to championships. It is also worth considering that his championship reign at lightweight consisted of a one-fight pit-stop against the B-rated David Diaz, and the fact that Antonio Margarito had hardly entered into the super welterweight division when him and Pacquiao faced off for the vacant 154lb version of the WBC stake. And without turning this into too much of a forum debate, when analyzing the time and pre-fight stipulations at which Pacquiao faced off against his most notable opponents, it is not too far-fetched to suggest that they took place at a time and under a particular circumstance for certain reasons.
This is not to say that Mayweather isn’t guilty of the same. In recent years, he’s fought his own fair share of catch-weight bouts and while I can empathize with the catalogue of matchups up until the Ricky Hatton fight, his two-year retirement after is where he subsequently allowed the talent in the welterweight herd to thin itself out. The choice of opposition since his return has been nothing short of strategically crafting the perfect meeting point between the most publically acceptable matchup with the least amount of risk and the most amount of revenue. If ring greatness is assessed by same standards of running a business, then Mayweather is the greatest fighter to have ever lived, but it’s not, so it’s difficult to give him that claim. Don’t get me wrong, I too would favor Mayweather against almost any hypothetical matchup with any current fighter in or around his weight class, but there is also a big difference in determining legacy based on speculation and what’s actually been done.
It is an echoed sentiment that the fight should have happened five years ago, and it is shame that it hadn’t. Jack Slack went into extreme depth as to how each fighter has deteriorated since the fight was first proposed, and for the most part, I agree with his assessment. But I’d also argue that dwelling on the possibilities of what could have happened doesn’t negate the fact that despite its shortcomings, Mayweather is still considered at the top of his generation and Pacquiao (as much as I deny his accomplishments) is the best chance boxing has at dethroning its king. So while perhaps what really matters is that the crossroad between the two has been met, I still think it’s important to know how that road has been paved.
To be fair to George Foreman, he did qualify to say that “big fights” are defined by the amount of public demand behind them, and in that regard, tonight’s fight has had more drawn-out buildup than perhaps any other fight in history. But it is also coming in an era where fighters hopscotch around weight classes and pick up title belts as bargaining chips rather than treating them as championships, where a fight’s capacity to generate revenue suddenly has a voice in dictating its importance, and undefeated records are preserved at the cost of taking on the toughest challenges.
This is not to say that tonight’s bout isn’t an intriguing matchup. It is. In fact, this is the best fight boxing can currently offer, but boxing also isn’t in the greatest shape.
All heart. That's what most little guys are.
But that counts for a lot. In the gym or
the ring all you gotta do is get up
one more time than the other guy thinks you can.
I forgot to post this one, mostly because I'm kinda embarrassed by it since I wrote it in like 4 hours and only did so to buy me some more time for another article. Anyways, it's about the Alvarez/Kirkland fight.
Quote:CANELO ALVAREZ VS. JAMES KIRKLAND: WHY IT MATTERS
FIGHTLAND BLOG
By Nick Wong
Photo by Scott Halleran/Getty Images
To put simply, every part about boxing’s “best fight” between Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao has been a mess. From a six-year pre-fight buildup to the underwhelming fight-night performance, and now the aftermath, has been nothing short of ridiculous. Threats of perjury lawsuits, suspect shoulder injuries, and the give-and-take offers of a rematch, has more or less put the final stamp on the notion that boxing has gone from being a contender sport to a circus act, and patience is wearing thin on the fans. But if the “Fight of the Century” prompted fight fans to close the door on boxing, then this past weekend’s bout between Canelo Alvarez and James Kirkland was a bid to keep it open.
Saúl Álvarez, more affectionately known as “Canelo” (Spanish for “cinnamon” in reference to his red hair), fights out of Guadalajara, Jalisco and comes from a fighting family (six older brothers and one older sister who all box professionally). At 46 wins and a sole loss against the man that bested Manny Pacquiao the week prior, Álvarez is Mexico’s (if not boxing’s) next rising star. He is the perfect combination of good looks, skills and public charisma to fit the boxing’s business formula. He also has a faithful following in one of the biggest markets in the sport. And when Mayweather finally does retire, Álvarez has a good contention of claiming the top spot as boxing’s new representative.
The biggest knock against Álvarez is that he’s had a history of taking on smaller and lesser opponents in order to build his resume, though I’d argue that most great fighters are carefully groomed throughout their career. In recent times, he’s taken on recognizable names such as Austin Trout, Erislandy Lara, and of course, Floyd Mayweather Jr. Since negotiations for a potential showdown with Puerto Rico’s Miguel Cotto fell through in lieu of the May 2nd super-fight, Álvarez was left facing off against the tough, but limited brawler in James Kirkland the week after.
Unlike Álvarez, James Kirkland has never been crafted for greatness. A rough fighter with a rough Austin upbringing, Kirkland has always been strong, but not necessarily skilled, and has spent most of his career working his way into the spotlight rather than being groomed for it. His way of winning in the ring has simply been outlasting his opponent in a sheer display of brute strength and durability. Much of that is due to his trainer Ann Wolfe, who is most famous for gyrating her hips over an unconscious Vonda Ward after a knockout win. Wolfe has been known to put her fighters through hellacious training camps, which is also probably the reason why fighters like Kirkland have gotten as far as they have.
Kirkland has a decent share of wins on his resume, and nearly all of them are non-stop shootouts with plenty of drama in between. Unfortunately, that drama follows him outside the sport, as Kirkland has had a few run-ins with the law since becoming a professional fighter, and his career inside of the ring has been slipping. Some observers will say that the legal troubles have had a noticeable effect on his performance. Others will attribute the absence of Ann Wolfe as the culprit to Kirkland’s decline (as his surprising upset KO loss to unknown Nobuhiro Ishida came soon after the two split). The bout against Álvarez is Kirkland’s second outing after his most recent criminal charge, and once again, Wolfe isn’t in his corner.
The fight started out in typical James Kirkland style, meaning that it started fast with immediate trades on the inside. Álvarez responded with a matching ferocity, and put Kirkland down on the seat of his pants 2 minutes and 44 seconds into the bout, visibly hurting the Texas native. Kirkland managed to rise but got put right back into trouble against the ropes before being saved by the bell.
The second round was more of the same and it became apparent that Kirkland significantly lacked in the defense department. Despite the barrage of punches landing on his face, however, Kirkland never stopped throwing back, landing with occasional success, even perhaps gaining the upper hand towards the end of the stanza. Álvarez, even with all his advantage in skill, never let the round fall into a dull moment.
The first half of the third round began hopeful for Kirkland as the two combatants gave a spirited exchange around the ring, but his careless bum-rush tendencies cost him as he ran face-first into an uppercut that put him back on the floor. Álvarez closed the deal by landing a quick overhand right that half-ballerina spun Kirkland to the ground before the ref stepped in to call the bout off. Despite the brevity of the match, there was hardly a dull moment, and neither guy shied away from receiving punishment in order to deliver their own. Overall, it was a damn good fight.
In post-fight interviews, Kirkland showed plenty of grace and respect towards the winner, and seemed surprisingly upbeat and honest for someone who just lost via 3rd round KO. Not much was mentioned on his future, and it’s troubling for me to think what the loss might do to Kirkland’s life outside of the ring. Álvarez gave a pretty standard interview, but the most interesting part was when future bouts were discussed between two names: The undefeated Gennady Golovkin and proven Puerto Rican warrior Miguel Cotto. Either fight provides a great display of skill and action, as well as significance in the boxing landscape. Álvarez answered in a typical fighter’s prose saying he’ll back down to no challenge, and while normally that claim is merely posturing, something tells me those matches have a pretty good chance of happening and it won’t take five years for it to come to fruition.
What I saw in boxing’s “Fight of the Century” was an incredible display of skill. Mayweather’s ability to neutralize Pacquiao on the outside was nothing short of ring artistry at it’s finest. But the exchanges were limited and when action could be avoided, it was. To the casual viewer, it was flat-out boring. If boxing is trying to draw more fans into the sport, it isn’t doing a good job.
In contrast, what I saw this weekend were two gutsy fighters fighting at full-speed with full enthusiasm, and at no point did either one opt to make it an easy fight. No excuses were made afterward, and nobody got sued (at least there seems no reason to think so). More importantly, it proved that despite the absence of nine-figure paydays, cross-country media tours, or even a championship belt, two guys could come into the middle of the ring and fight as if there were. If the “Fight of the Century” was an attempt at suffocating the sport of boxing, then Álvarez and Kirkland were both a breath of fresh air.
Boxing isn’t dead. It never will be. But when the top of the sport is held by fighters with incredible egos who have more interest in fighting outside of the ring than inside, it gets into trouble. The hope remains that as long as there are guys like Álvarez and Kirkland around, it’ll always find a way out of it. In many ways, boxing is much like the human body; all it needs is a regeneration to rid itself of the things trying to kill it.
Last weekend I had the chance to speak over the phone with Olympic Judo Medalist Marti Malloy. Really great gal.
Quote:THE ALL-AMERICAN STORY OF OLYMPIC HOPEFUL MARTI MALLOY
FIGHTLAND BLOG
By Nick Wong
Photos courtesy of Dollamur Sport Surfaces
Marti Malloy is a living American story. A product of humble beginnings, Malloy has made a name for herself in the international judo scene through effort, dedication and never letting the hard times get the best of her. Currently, she is ranked 1st in the nation, 3rd in the world, and is also an Olympic hopeful for the 2016 Games in Rio de Janeiro.
Malloy grew up on Whidbey Island, a small community off the coast of Washington State, where many military families settle due to the naval base stationed on the north side of the isle. Her father was a career military officer in the Navy and the benefits of that position eventually led the offspring of the family into the sport.
“There’s these gyms called MWR—Morale, Welfare and Recreation—and it’s a gym that’s there for the enlisted people and the dependents of their family to use. They had a judo class there and me and my brothers joined it because it was free,” Malloy tells me in explaining her judoka origins. “Initially it was just fun. We had never done any kind of structured sport in our lives, and on top of that it was like having a family. There are a lot of military families on the islands, a lot of moms whose husbands had gone away deployed. My dad was in the Navy for 20 years, and when you get out you get a punch card that shows how much time you spent abroad or deployed. He spent 12 out of the 20 years away, so you have a lot of families coming together, looking for support.”
She began training at the earliest age the recreational center allowed, though wanted to begin a year earlier at the age of five. Showing her promise early, Malloy won nearly every junior match she entered from her childhood into her teenage years. As any youth growing into their adolescence, however, the young judoka wanted to participate in the activities of her peers, an instinct that can easily distract any serious competitive athlete. She attributes her mother as the guiding influence that kept her on track.
“In middle school all my friends did softball, so I wanted to do softball, and my mom said, ‘Ok, well the jerseys and the physical exam and all this equipment is going to cost about $250 if you want to do softball. But if you choose to do judo, we can spend that $250 and I can get you a trip to California and you can fight in the junior Olympics again. So which one do you want to do more?’ And of course I was always going to pick judo,” Malloy recounts. “She would always give me these ultimatums. She would say, 'Do you want something temporary or something that will last?’ I always wanted to do extracurricular stuff at school too, but she always made me choose.”
Aside from being the parental figure teaching how to make decisions, the mother also contributed financially, rallying together any extra money to support her daughter develop further into the sport.
“We always worked hard and my dad always had a paycheck being in the military. We weren’t the kind of family that went hungry, but as a family of five, you don’t have the luxury of things like spending money on new school clothes. We didn’t always have money, and my mom always saved dimes and coins and go to those coin machines to cash them in to pay for all my judo stuff,” Malloy says describing her childhood. I ask if the family’s financial situation had any influence on her performance during competition. She takes a moment to think about it before she answers.
“For me it felt like I always had to put that money somewhere, like ‘Don’t waste it’. Of course I always wanted to win. I was always competitive. I didn’t just go to the tournaments because I thought they were fun or to just get out of my hometown. I wanted to be the best. But I also knew the hard work that my mom was putting in, all the extra money, every little extra coin she could make, doing whatever outside job it was, she was putting towards me. I think I would have felt ashamed if I didn’t do my best, to make the most of that, you know?”
Her mother worked a number of odd jobs, perhaps the oddest being a part-time breeder of purebred Chihuahuas. According to Malloy, Chihuahuas with the right paperwork, history and lineage can go for anywhere from $600 to $1000, a significant side income that allowed the family to send Malloy back and forth to California once she outgrew the training capacities of the naval base. After graduating high school, she made a more permanent home of the Bay Area by enrolling at the San José State University and later becoming the first female captain of a judo team primarily composed of larger males.
“It was my job to keep these guys in line and if people were messing up, I had to yell at them and so on. At first it was hard for me because I was like, ‘How do I tell a bunch of guys what to do or expect them to listen to me or respect me?’ but then I realized that you lead by example. You work hard and you do morally correct things,” says Malloy.
With martial arts still a predominately male venture at the time, it was uncommon for a female athlete to be appointed the lead spot, and though Malloy contests that nobody ever treated her differently due to her gender, the three years she served as team captain didn’t come without its challenges.
“I always feel like I come across as kind of like a ‘bitch’ because it’s my job. It’s always the person that’s in charge that’s like, “an asshole” because nobody wants to be told when they’re doing something wrong or when they need to be put in line, and here I was like a little 5-foot-3, 125 pound girl who had that job, so people often give that person the title “bitch” whereas if I was a guy, they would say, ‘Oh, he’s a strong leader,’” says Malloy. “But for me, the one thing I can always back up is that I always give 110%. I always do my best and I always try to be fair, recognize that there are two sides to every story and everyone has a different life and a different perspective that makes them react the way they do, so you have to understand that and try to look at that from both sides so you can make the right decision, whatever it is.”
For Malloy, the journey to the top has been one of steady progression. In judo, the ranking process is based on a point system and those points are dependent on the number of tournaments won over the course of a career. Her international ranking began in the high teens and rose in accordance with her tournament triumphs, most recently a Gold at the 2014 Pan American Judo Championships, and of course a Bronze at the 2012 Olympics, making her the second American female to medal in judo, the first being Ronda Rousey.
“Growing up Ronda was the girl that always beat me and it killed me. She was the one I would go back to the judo club and my sensei would yell at me, ‘How did you lose to her again?!’ And I would say, ‘She arm-barred me! What do you want?!’” Malloy laughs in reminiscence. “Sometimes we’d fight each other two to three times in one weekend because we were in two divisions and we’d fight again and she would beat me. I would tell her that she pissed me off because I could never beat her, but she told me, ‘No dude, you beat me one time and I was mad at you for the longest time because you were the girl that beat me.’ I don’t remember. I guess we must have been really young.”
In Rousey’s new autobiography My Fight/Your Fight, Malloy is credited as one of the only American judokas to have ever bested the UFC champ, though Malloy downplays the significance of the anecdote since it happened when they were kids. I’d argue that regardless of age, the memory managed to leave a big enough imprint to be mentioned in the book and probably speaks to her abilities to operate at such an elite level. In fact, looking closer at their lives and respective judo careers, there are some eerie similarities between Marti Malloy and Ronda Rousey—the Olympic Bronze medal, the strict yet supportive mother-figure, the winning attitude—it seems like the Washington native could easily make the transition. However, despite their similarities, Malloy has no plans on following her predecessor into the MMA arena.
“I’m more of a judo purist, like it’s the only sport I’ve ever done and I don’t really feel any desire to do other martial arts. At my age it’s not something that I would want to take on and it’s also not something that I’m passionate about. I’m passionate about judo. I would just be pretending to care if I tried to do MMA,” Malloy laughs. “I’m a fan of it. Not a fan of doing it."
Currently, Malloy trains twice a day, six days a week, interchanging between strength and endurance conditioning with judo practice everyday. Her immediate goals are landing a spot on the 2016 Olympic team and winning a gold at the World Judo Championships later this year in August. She is also studying for her Masters Degree in Mathematics and Computer Science at San José State University. While the tasks of pursuing a Master’s degree and gunning for world championships may seem daunting enough, financially speaking, the burden has lessened. Earlier in her career, Malloy worked a number of side jobs in sandwich shops and doctors’ offices to support herself through training, but once she began placing at international tournaments, sponsors and committees stepped in and now she can train as a full-time judoka. The change has been a dream come true for Malloy.
“It feels so amazing. There’s so much less stress. I’m not worried everyday about whether or not I’ll have to skip out on my training to go to work because I have to pay rent, or if I can buy a certain pair of running shoes for my shin splints. These are things I used to worry about and it makes me feel so grateful for how far I’ve come, and it makes me feel proud too because I know it came from the hard work I put in to become a better player,” says Malloy. “When I was like a teenager, we were able to get a grant to buy these Dollamur mats. Those were the first judo mats I’ve ever worked out on, and then 20 years later I’m one of their sponsor athletes. If someone would have told me as a teenager that I wouldn’t have to work and I could make judo 100% of my focus, that my job was to make sure I was in the best condition possible and someone was going to pay for me that, I wouldn’t have believed them. No way.”
There is a constant tinge of disbelief in the way Malloy speaks about her position in life, despite also having a complete awareness to all the effort she’s put in to earn it. It is reflective of the humility she’s managed to retain while reaching the top of the sport, and it is at this point that I realize that Marti Malloy represents many of the ideals this country strives for—hard work, dedication, respect and a boldness to step up and overcome the obstacles thrown at us in life. At least for me, there isn’t a finer character this country could send to represent itself on a world stage.
All heart. That's what most little guys are.
But that counts for a lot. In the gym or
the ring all you gotta do is get up
one more time than the other guy thinks you can.
Y'know in a way I'm glad that the fight of the century finally happened. What it does is draw a line in the sand, a fullstop at the end of the sentence and we as boxing fans can now move on to newer fighters and bettwe fighters.
No-one will really care as much about either Mayweather or Pacquiao from here on it. Sure they will draw numbers but I bet we see a sharp drop off in PPV buys for both guys. And no I don't mean from the 4.5 million buys I'm talking the figures they usually generate. It's over now and it feels pretty good.
“Shakespeare? I ain’t never hoid of him. He’s not in no ratings. I suppose he’s one of them foreign heavyweights. They’re all lousy. Sure as hell I’ll moider dat bum.”—Tony Galento
06-05-2015, 08:52 AM (This post was last modified: 06-05-2015 08:53 AM by Snoop.)
Quote:WUDANG MASTERS AND THE LINE BETWEEN TRADITIONAL MARTIAL ARTS AND MODERN MMA
FIGHTLAND BLOG
By Nick Wong
Photos by Nick Wong
It is an ongoing debate whether or not traditional martial arts have relevancy in the current landscape of mixed-martial-arts. Many of its naysayers will point to lack of presence in the competitive stage and the resumes of champions to disrobe its legitimacy. On the other hand, certain TMA defenders will scoff at the notion of competition or argue the aggression of modern MMA runs contrast to the peaceful cultivation of true martial artists. Like most things in the world, the truth is usually found somewhere in the middle, and it is here where I find the Wudang Internal Martial Arts Academy, a small martial arts studio in South Seattle that uses a balanced approach to shine some much needed light on the matter.
The International Wudang Internal Martial Arts Academy is run by two masters: Dr. Lu Mei-Hui and Master Chang Wu Na, both whom are disciples of the current headmaster of Wudang Pai martial arts, sifu Ma Jie. The origins of Wudang Dan Pai martial arts originate from the Wudang Mountains of the Hubei Province in China, hence the name. The discipline falls under the umbrella term of “internal martial arts” which is a practice of developing the internal aspects of the human body in accordance with the external. Martial arts like qigong or Aikido should ring a bell. A more specific focus of this academy is on the Wudang Chuan, which is a combination of three classic Chinese boxing styles—T’ai chi chuan, Xing-Yi Chuan and Bagua Zhang—each with very keen distinctions between them.
T’ai chi chuan, or more popularly known as “Tai chi”, employs slow, fluid and graceful movements, and is commonly known as a martial art that elders practice in a public park. Xing-Yi uses direct and more aggressive burst movements at short range where intention is clearly stated, while in Bagua Zhang, practitioners walk in circular pattern following an eight-trigram octagonal shape, and strikes and grappling techniques are more concealed. Though Tai-Chi may be the more recognizable by name alone, the other two styles have made plenty of appearance in the media, such as Bagua Zhang inspiring the fighting form of Nickelodean’s Airbender, and the “good” and “evil” characters in the Jet Li film The One adopting both Bagua Zhang and Xing-Yi, respectively. The presence of these forms in the movies, however, is what appears to be part of the problem.
“The problem is a lot of people nowadays get involved because of how pretty it looks, so they’re not interested in the fighting technique. That’s one aspect. And then sometimes you have other people, who unfortunately because of circumstance, their understanding of the application is not so great and they go off and become teachers and become representatives and it kind of spreads a misunderstanding of Chinese martial arts,” says Master Chang. “Particularly when it comes to tai-chi. ‘It goes so slowly, it’s so soft. Focus on meditation and focus on moving chi,’ he continues, imitating modern day masters. “It becomes a lot of misunderstanding. It shouldn’t be the way it is. Instead, everything should be very practical.”
Dr. Lu echoes a similar sentiment:
“I think the most important thing that I would like you to understand is that Chinese internal martial art should not just be for health cultivation. We should go back to the root of what martial arts is: martial,” says Dr. Lu. “Of course there should be a martial component, there has to be yong, an application. Without application, all the forms are empty. It becomes dancing.”
Dr. Lu looks and speaks like a kind grandmother, though there is also an underlying sense of firmness to her demeanor. Master Chang, on the other hand, is considerably younger and speaks in a manner more in tune with my generation. Both have a considerable number of traditional martial arts championships between them, and based on their written resumes alone, their abilities could be lethal. But I’ve always been a bit skeptical of the claims from traditional martial art camps, especially when it comes to traditions that involve backgrounds that sound almost like folklore. Many of those doubts, however, are addressed when Dr. Lu invites me to participate in a couple of their courses.
About halfway through a tai-chi class, the doctor places her hands above my wrists and instructs me to move them. I make a decent effort to do so and fail. She tells me to try again. I take in a deep breath, reassess my approach and push harder. About fifteen-seconds in, I begin to break a sweat, but her hands don’t budge. Now I’m not saying that I’m the strongest person in the world, but I am in my 30s with plenty of boxing and jiu-jitsu experience under my belt and I cannot move this 64-year old woman’s hands.
Afterwards, I stick around for a self-defense seminar led by Master Chang, and during one of the drills, we’re instructed to place the base of our palm below the ridge of our opponents’ nose and flip back their head. The intended effect is to throw the opponent off-balance with a simple flick of the wrist. I try the movement a few times but the best I can get is maybe an exaggerated head-nod from my partner. Master Chang comes by and lightly places his hand under my philtrum, then flips my head back with such a sudden and abrupt force that I would have toppled over had he not caught me with his other hand. I’m told in both instances that I’m focusing too much on the force and not enough on the technique. I’m sure some of the amazement of those feats could be attributed to it being a planned drill, but planned or not, the displayed knowledge of body placement and mechanics is impressive.
Despite my failed attempts, both Dr. Lu and Master Chang compliment my showing and ask if I’ve had any martial arts training in the past. I tell them my background is in western boxing and some Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and that most of my contact with martial arts exists within televised competitive fighting styles, making my exposure to the traditional martial arts limited. Naturally, a discussion on the topic ensues.
“I don’t think there’s been a lot of people who have competed period in traditional martial arts, at least in Chinese traditional martial arts,” responds Master Chang when I ask why there aren’t many champions with a traditional martial arts background in competitive cage fighting. “I think the reasoning behind that is because the people who practice traditional martial arts are a certain type, of a certain mindset, and a lot of schools of Chinese martial arts, they don’t emphasize that sort of competition that much, which is not necessary wrong or right, but it lends itself to having a bad name sometimes, or at least it opens Chinese martial arts for criticism from the West.
“It’s kind of a complex answer. One part is that in China, MMA is just starting to gain some traction and popularity and in the past there hasn’t been that much enthusiasm, that’s number one. Number two is that the methodology, not everyone agrees with. For example, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, rolling on the ground, that’s kind of been met with some derision amongst the Chinese. It’s starting to change now, but in the past that’s been the case.”
I bring up the argument of how the lack of presence on a competitive stage like cage fighting suggests a notion that traditional marital arts are ineffective. After all, the original intention of the UFC was to prove which fighting style reigned supreme. Master Chang had different thoughts on the matter.
“Well there are a lot of martial arts that are very useful that are not proven in the cage. I don’t see a lot of people that do Pencak Silat or Krav Maga in the cage,” Master Chang starts. “The people who enter the cage are those that do western boxing, Brazilian jiu-jitsu and a little bit of muay-thai, and they go in, with an emphasis on the Brazilian jiu-jitsu, the ground fighting. You have to have that. You can be garbage with the hands and you can be garbage with the legs, but if you can put the guy on the ground, then you can finish him that way. That works extremely well in the competitive environment. In other situations, it’s not necessarily called for. In a combat zone where you have people with machine guns, for example, things like Krav Maga, or Pencak Silat, work very very well. The Marines they have their style of marital arts called LINE. None of those things have been proven in the cage either, but they’re employed by governments to be used in combat zones, so just because it’s not proven in the cage does not mean it’s not an effective martial art.”
He brings up a valid point. Intention should always be taken into account when discussing the legitimacy of a fighting practice, and a controlled environment is entirely different from one that is life-and-death. But I’d also argue that televised matches are an undeniable testimony to displaying the efficacy of a fighting style, and unless one is personal witness to a real-life situation, the evidence becomes hearsay. Without a way to truly simulate the latter scenario, I guess that is a bridge remaining to be built between the two worlds. But it is a misnomer that this difference puts the two approaches at odds and also a gross generalization that all traditional martial artists scoff at the styles of competitive fighting. At least in the case of the Wudang academy, there are ways in which the two can inform one another.
“Personally, I have respect for all styles of martial arts because they must have their reasons why they’re set up that way,” says Dr. Lu when I ask her opinions on other competitive fighting styles. “For example, boxing is very good. I also trained for a while in kickboxing and I like it. I use it as a yong, to apply. When I need to fight, I use the technique. But I would not use that to nurture my health.”
Her claims of training in experienced competitive fighting arenas are not unfounded. She once taught English to Anatoli Rubin, the former head coach for the Olympic boxing team of the Soviet Union, and received boxing instruction during the language exchange. She also spent some time training with professional kickboxer Iro Evanson, and holds a vast library of knowledge to a variety of fighting styles. In regards to her comment about health, it is worth mentioning that she is also a certified practitioner of Chinese medicine and acupuncture, two elements that are incorporated into her approach to fighting.
“A lot of people claim that they have trained for a certain number of years in this and that, and when they come to us it turns out they were patients. They were very sick,” says Dr. Lu when I ask how a focus on how health cultivation affects a fighter. “They are good fighters, no doubt. I’ll never deny that, but when it comes to internal strength, they have to work on this.”
Much like Fightland’s piece on “Breaking and Healing in Martial Arts”, the focus of the Wudang is set upon both the fighting ability and physical well being of their students. However, they also contest that integrating the softer, healing elements of martial arts will actually enhance the harder and more aggressive aspects of competitive fighting. At least for Wudang, the debate between traditional martial arts and competitive martial arts is kind of a moot point. They are essentially two sides of the same coin.
“Yin Yang theory is a crucial part of the core in Chinese philosophical system. It states how ancient Chinese categorized the energies in everything. Yin and Yang are two contrasted concepts. Based on the theory, these two energies embrace each other, support each other and also confront each other. They coexist and there should be balance between them. Overpowering of one of them will harm the other,” says Dr. Lu. “If there’s only yin, there’s no yang. If there’s no yang, there’s no yin. There has to be two. Without knowing how to be soft, it’s very difficult for you to issue the hard energy. So that’s why both hard energy and soft energy have to be cultivated and applied in combative situations.”
All heart. That's what most little guys are.
But that counts for a lot. In the gym or
the ring all you gotta do is get up
one more time than the other guy thinks you can.
Snoop it would've been more interesting to hear from Smarty Beardo and see how this compares to WHIPSMASH, haha.
Have you ever thought about trying to move into making documentaries? Even short ones?
“Shakespeare? I ain’t never hoid of him. He’s not in no ratings. I suppose he’s one of them foreign heavyweights. They’re all lousy. Sure as hell I’ll moider dat bum.”—Tony Galento
(06-05-2015 04:17 PM)the ollie reed fan club Wrote: Snoop it would've been more interesting to hear from Smarty Beardo and see how this compares to WHIPSMASH, haha.
Have you ever thought about trying to move into making documentaries? Even short ones?
LOL. I miss that guy. He was so fucking bizarre. And I loved watching him and Warlord go at it.
Funny that you mentioned documentary making cuz I am thinking about it and have been doing some research on it to try and learn the ropes. So far what I can say is that it's fucking difficult and expensive. Haha. But yes. I hope it's in the cards.
All heart. That's what most little guys are.
But that counts for a lot. In the gym or
the ring all you gotta do is get up
one more time than the other guy thinks you can.
(06-08-2015 12:27 PM)gravytrain Wrote: Can't Vice hook it up? They've HBO money now
Nah, their video department is completely separate from their writing/photography department, meaning they don't take any amateur off the street like they did with me. I get it though. I costs A LOT more to edit sloppy video than it does with photography/writing. Just in the little research I've put into making video, I realize it's a completely different game so I probably need to spend some time learning the ropes. Coming soon though, hopefully...
All heart. That's what most little guys are.
But that counts for a lot. In the gym or
the ring all you gotta do is get up
one more time than the other guy thinks you can.
(06-09-2015 12:06 AM)gravytrain Wrote: So they've got that fat headed Korean motherfucker eating 12 pounds of lard on Vice but they can't give you a shot?
LOL. I'm not sure who you're talking about, but I guess so? Haha.
Nah but I'm good with it. It'll all come in due time.
All heart. That's what most little guys are.
But that counts for a lot. In the gym or
the ring all you gotta do is get up
one more time than the other guy thinks you can.
