I decided to write this article for three reasons. Firstly I read Wim Demeere’s treatment of the subject recently and I wanted to add my own thoughts on it. Secondly, my friend lost a cage fight at the weekend, and thirdly, I’m thinking of competing in a sport Ju Jitsu tournament next year. So I thought now would be a good time to consider the pro’s and con’s of competition fighting.
In the Beginning…
I never began martial arts training with the intention of ever taking part in any kind of competitive tournament or match. I began martial arts with the intention of learning the art of fighting and in conjunction with that, learning how to defend myself if the need ever arose.
I started my training proper in traditional Kempo Karate and right from the start sparring practice was a big part of that training. It wasn’t long therefore, before I began to wonder what it would be like to spar competitively in a proper match.
You know how it is. You have a notion that you aren’t half bad at this sparring lark and that maybe you’d like to test your skills against a complete stranger in a more competitive arena than just your dojo. Your ego, and to a lesser extent your insecurity over whether you are any good or not, begins to take over and pretty soon you find yourself really wanting to jump in to the world of competitive martial arts with both feet just to see what you’re made off.
So eventually I decided to enter my first kickboxing competition when I was nineteen. I was nervous as hell in the run up to it but I entertained notions that I was going to make a big impact, that I was going to win in style and that people would be awed by my abilities and I would become the next kickboxing sensation. That may sound ridiculous, but that’s how competitions make you think. Your imagination runs wild, to say the least. Wishful thinking isn’t the word for it.
Problem #1
This illustrates my first problem with competitive martial arts, the glory factor. When you go down that road you can’t help but allow the glory hunter in you to come out and make itself known. It’s pure ego and has nothing to do with what the traditional martial arts are all about. The glory hunter makes you think that you are better than you actually are (dangerous enough in itself) and your thoughts suddenly become shallow and centred around your ever expanding ego. The values of the traditional martial arts become less important, replaced by thoughts of glory and becoming the next big thing. The imaginary sound of applause begins to drown out your initial motivations for training in the first place. Everything becomes centred on the upcoming fight; all training is necessarily geared towards it. The ego steps up and takes control of the proceedings, terrified at the thoughts of getting beat.
You can see the ego on display if you go to any martial arts competition. The first kickboxing match I went to I was struck by the arrogance of many of the fighters taking part. Some of them were walking around like over-muscled peacocks, practically screaming, through their demeanour and body language, “Look at me! No one is better than me!”
You see this type of attitude a lot amongst cage-fighters these days. They come across as wannabe rock stars. Most of them are probably okay guys, but the competition seems to bring out the worst in them. I personally know a couple of semi-pro cage-fighters and they are nice guys, but they are complete glory hunters. They love the attention, the cheering of the crowd, the ego boost when they win. Is this a bad thing, to love those things? Maybe not, depending on your point of view and as long as you recognise how fleeting those feelings are and how ultimately unfulfilling they are. At the end of the day, I don’t see how such pursuits can make you a better person inside.
After my first kickboxing match I was on a high for a few days. I knocked my opponent down in the first minute with a side-kick to his chin and the fight was stopped by his corner. So I won my first match. I obviously felt elated and my ego was super-pleased because it got the boost it so desperately wanted.
At the same time though, I was left feeling empty. In the aftermath of the fight I felt distinctly underwhelmed. I thought to myself, “Well, I’ve done it. What now?” I was back to were I started. It’s like taking drugs (not that I’ve ever dabbled in such things!). You feel elated for a while and then you come down and you’re left wanting the next hit, the next high. I didn’t feel anymore superior and I hadn’t suddenly become some kind of martial arts master. The training was still there to be getting on with, waiting for me to return to my senses. The serious martial artist in me was saying, “Okay, you got that out of your system now? Can we get back to the real reason why you’re training now please?”
Problem #2
And therein lies my second problem with competitions: what do they prove? Really, they only prove that you performed better on the day than the other guy. Winning a competition does not always mean that you were more skilled than your opponent. Sometimes the other guy is more skilled and you just held it together better than he did, or you made fewer mistakes than he did. It doesn’t always mean that you were the better fighter.
Take a look at the video below. It’s off a fight I did about a year and a half ago. I was back training about six months after a long absence and I felt the need (or my ego did anyway) to test myself, to see if I still had the skill to compete. As it turned out, I did and I was very happy with my performance, but I lost the fight due to disqualification as you’ll see. If I hadn’t of gotten myself disqualified I would have won on points easily, which only goes to prove my point. The winner isn’t always the best fighter.
Conclusions?
So what can we conclude from all this? Well, competitions do have their uses. To an extent, they allow you to test your skills against people other than those who you normally train with and to do so whilst under a fair bit of pressure. In the absence of any real pressure in your normal training, competitions can be a good way to experience such pressure, especially if you have any fears or hang-ups regarding confrontation or getting hit. One or two fights can help you overcome that fear pretty quick.
Full contact fights (either in the ring or cage) can also be a good grounding for self defense because they allow you to feel what it’s like to get properly hit and also what it’s like to hit someone else properly. I’m not saying such competitions are like real fights (too many rules) but they are as near as you’re going to get without actually getting into a street fight. At the very least they will teach you how to take a punch or kick.
Overall, I see martial arts competitions as novelty events, a break from normal training. They have some useful aspects but they are ultimately unfulfilling and not worth, in my opinion, the amount of training and mental focus you have to put into them. The preparation far outweighs the rewards. In the end, by entering them, you are pandering to the glory hunter in you and they represent a workout for your ego.
Does this mean I will never do another one? Well, like I said at the beginning, I’m thinking of doing one next year. Haven’t quite worked out exactly why I want to do one, probably for a number of reasons, but mainly to prove to see how I perform. And I’ll do this, despite the fact that I know I’ll ask myself why I bothered straight after wards. Full of contradictions me.
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