Andy's Blog

I am not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination.  Your imagination would have to be somewhat cosmic in its magnitude and more perverse than I would generally give you credit for; and yet me + morning would still not figure… I may want to talk to you about other things if the previous magnitude/perverseness *is* to be credited to you, but I wander somewhat from the main thrust of this little postette…

..I hate mornings!

So to have to swing my body up from the horizontal to something that faintly resembled the vertical at an hour that my brain hasn’t even begun to register in its 40 odd years of registering, means that something is afoot.

Karate tournament day!

Quite why I keep on going is not entirely clear to me.  I inevitably come back with a myriad of injuries; broken fingers, thumbs, toes and more bruises than an upset apple cart.  Add to that the shockingly quick exit from any bout that I stumble into, and get carried out from, and you begin to understand why friends and family all ask, what I hinted to at the beginning of this paragraph;

“Why do you keep going?  You’re rubbish!”

To be honest it’s probably because I am SO bad at this tournament malarkey that makes me want to keep on going back, that and because it is such a huge amount of fun!  We all need to stretch ourselves, to get that knot of fear in your stomach as you realise that your names just been called and you are now expected to either complete a complex sequence of moves in front of a room full of critical eyes OR be faced against someone whose trouser-holding-up-device is several shades darker than yours and has a somewhat alarming glint in their eye as they stare back at you!

Tongue suddenly dries up and attaches to the roof of the mouth, vision tunnels, orifices pucker up and you step into the ring…

That said, what made this tournament all the more exciting was the number of my students, both past and present, who were also attending.  To be able to see them take those first nervous steps and be there to cheer them on as they go through the exact same emotions *and* do better than I was able to do was way WAY more rewarding!  Not all of them got medals, and that didn’t matter, but a large amount of them did… and some of them even managed faux precious metals that I haven’t achieved as yet!

Proud much? Oh yeah!

..Of course, as the title kinda suggests, one thing does tend to follow the other.  Fortunately the “fall” was rather more literal than philosophical, and even more fortunate wasn’t captured on any photographic device for later evidence.  Team Kumite is a roller-coaster of a ride and doesn’t tend to allow you to blink let alone prepare yourself for the onslaught, and this particular team kumite was producing more injuries than the rest of the tournament put together!

I don’t think I have to dwell on my literal downfall;  suffice to say my opponents sweep was excellent, the crunching of my already broken toe was a nice touch, and the kick to the chest allows those colleagues who didn’t attend to ask; “how the f**k did you get a bruise THERE?!”… I think I’d feel cheated if I didn’t come away from these events without some form of injury that didn’t persist for at least a week… or four!

Oh, and of course I couldn’t let it slide that number one son managed to get his first medal too!  Proud parent and all that

Another weekend completed and another GKR karate tournament competed.  Very soon, if I keep this sort of thing up, I’ll become an old hand at this malarky … which is more than my hand will become as I have managed to damage it once more whilst laying it, with forceful intent, upon somebody else’s person.  Enough of that story though.

This particular tournament I was accompanied by sprogs #1 and #2 on their first steps into competitive posing, flailing and shouting.  Unfortunately they didn’t win any medals but I was HUGELY proud of the way they conducted themselves both during and after their time in the ring.  Teaches them an important lesson too, I suppose, that you can’t win at everything – which School seems scared to teach them, in case it damages their delicate psyche!

I, also, didn’t do very well at the individual level and was somewhat relieved that Sensei wasn’t around to see the woeful effort that was my kata… who swapped my feet with a 7 year olds when I wasn’t looking?!

This did give me the opportunity to go around and “ra-ra” from the sidelines as a fair number of my fellow Sensei’s did get their medals.  We were competing for Silver and Gold in both the male and female instructor levels!  What a dilemma; Who do you cheer for when you want both of them to win?!

(I have just noticed the judicious use of “we” in that last paragraph.  I think Sarah, Katie, Shaun and Daz actually probably managed their collective bling amassing without my aid)

However, what personally what made my tournament the more enjoyable was being involved in the Team Kumite.  It wasn’t the fact that we came away with a Bronze medal, it was the sheer look of joy and excitement in Ed’s voice when he realised we had gotten past the first round.  The exclaimed “We’ve never gotten this far before!” and huge grin were worth far more than any lump of metal draped around the neck.

Title Disclaimer:
When asking your son to remember the word “YAKP”, as you concentrate on something else, remember to tell him that it stands for “Yet Another Karate Post” and not get into a conversation about the colour, texture, smell and relevance of “Yak Pee”.

The 10 minutes of confused cross-talking that went on, and combined “you what?!” looks, is not something to be reproduced.