Chapter 16: A Disqualification

May 27, 2000, Chicago, Illinois

On Saturday morning I had breakfast with Molly and Brett, something which had become a tradition. Her dojo was doing well, and after a bit of teasing, we made our usual bet about overall performance of our students in the tournament. I had a bit of advantage because we had more students, so to make the bet equitable, I had to pick five of the eight we had competing. Of course, I chose Marcia, because after a few years competing as a black belt she had a very good chance of winning, as did Miyu, who was my second pick. My other three picks were Jolene, Hannah, and Joe.

“Is everything a competition between you two?” Brett asked as the three of us walked to the Field House.”

“Pretty much,” Molly replied. “He’s a good teacher and all that, but I’d kick his butt if we could spar!”

I chuckled, “In your dreams.”

“When is the last time you REALLY sparred? I mean full contact?”

“Japan, six years ago.”

“When your fellow karateka thought they could teach you a lesson?”

“They did teach me a lesson. And I taught them one as well. You realize those three are fast friends, despite the distance. They send Christmas gifts and I send them birthday gifts every year. The person I have more communication with is Sakurako.”

“Is that the wife of the head of the school?” Brett asked.

“Yes. She and I are friends, and she also handles letters between Hideki-san and me, as he speaks very little English and I speak even less Japanese!”

“I thought Sakurako was teaching him English,” Molly said.

“She is, but it’s slow going. Learning languages is a LOT easier when you’re younger. I’d hate to try to learn Swedish now. It was pretty easy at sixteen.”

“I’ve met Doctor Sofia,” Brett said. “I think you had serious motivation!”

“Possibly,” I grinned.

“Oh, please!” Molly said with a laugh. “I’ve also met Katt, your skater girlfriend, and Pia. And I’ve seen the pictures of Birgit, the Swedish one. You had PLENTY of motivation.”

I’d had that same motivation to learn Japanese, but Molly didn’t know that. I simply hadn’t felt it necessary to try to learn Japanese given the significant effort it would have involved and the fact that I’d likely have little use for it.

“There may be some truth to that,” I replied.

“I still want to know your secret!” Brett declared with a grin.

“If you think I’m signing up for THAT, you’re out of your mind!” Molly replied quickly.

“A guy can dream, you know? A harem sounds good!”

“Until you have to pay for it,” I replied.

“You’re married to a doctor and a renowned researcher! Not to mention having your own company! I could only dream of that kind of family income.”

“And you can only dream of that kind of family, too!” Molly declared.

“There’s nobody but you, my little apple blossom!” he said in a simpering voice.

Molly and I both made fake gagging noises then laughed.

“Good morning, Sensei Steve!” Kassidy said when we walked in. “Sensei Ichirou would like to see you in the tournament office.”

“Duty calls!” I said to Molly and Brett. “Good morning, Kassidy!”

I walked down the hall to the office which Sensei Ichirou and I would share. We bowed, then went over the instructions I’d be giving to the referees and judges as assistant tournament director. There were only a few minor changes from the previous year, and once we finished, I went to the room where all the officials were gathering.

I’d made a point when I had spoken to each of them about promptness and I was gratified to see that all of them had arrived with more than two minutes to spare, thus fulfilling my ‘two minutes early or be considered late’ meeting rule. I quickly went over the tournament rules, fielded a few questions, and ended the meeting as quickly as possible, given my complete distaste for meetings which dragged on interminably due to people who liked to hear themselves talk.

“Everything OK?” I asked Kassidy and Iris when I returned to the registration desk.

“The computer is working perfectly,” Iris said. “We’ll call you if it doesn’t!”

“Cool. Did you guys talk to your parents?”

“Yes,” Kassidy said. “My dad wants to talk to you. Is it OK to have him call you?”

“Sure. Do you know what his concern is?”

She laughed, looked around, and lowered her voice, “He wants to make sure you’re actually in business not some kind of creep!”

I grinned, “Those are NOT mutually exclusive!”

“Duh,” she laughed. “But you know what I mean.”

“I do. And it’s wise. Tell him to go to our website and look up the main number, then call and ask for me. Have him tell my assistant that it’s related to karate and she’ll put him right through.”

“Why not call the number on the card?”

“Because that could easily be faked. He can also get the phone number from the White Pages if he wants to be sure.”

“My dad isn’t QUITE that crazy,” Iris said. “But he did talk to Sensei Ichirou who said you were, and I quote, ‘a responsible, honorable man who should be treated with the utmost respect’.”

“I’d say that’s more likely to be said about him, but I appreciate his confidence. I’ll talk to Kassidy’s dad and arrange for you to come to our office in the West Loop. For me, Tuesdays and Thursdays would be best, maybe three hours each time? But let me talk to Kassidy’s dad and then confirm with you. Have him call Tuesday, please.”

“I will,” Kassidy replied.

The morning competition was completed without any issues and without me needing to issue any official rulings. All of the entrants from both dojos made it through the first round which wasn’t surprising. I had lunch with Molly and the students from both our dojos and then we returned to the Field House for the afternoon competition.

“Sensei Steve?” Leigh called out as we walked in.

I walked over to the registration table where she was sitting.

“What’s up?”

“I’m not interested in computers, but Ailea suggested I talk to you about something she called Rap Sessions.”

“We had our last one of the Spring, but we’ll start up again when school starts in the Fall. Are you seventeen?”

“I’ll turn seventeen at the end of the summer, why?”

“That’s the minimum age because the topics can be pretty intense. And before you’re eighteen, you’d need your parents’ permission.”

“She said you mentored her and it helped a lot, too.”

“What are you planning to major in when you go to college?”

“Business. And I plan to get an MBA.”

“Loki help us,” I said, shaking my head.

“Loki?”

“The Norse god of chaos. I have an affinity for him.”

“What’s wrong with being an MBA?”

“What’s right with an MBA?” I asked with a silly smile. “If you want me to mentor you, you’ll have to expect your teachers to hate you and to grade you tougher than they grade anyone else.”

“Why?”

“Because MBAs are destroying American business. I run my company on principles which are pretty much antithetical to everything they teach in graduate school.”

“But you’re really successful according to Ailea and both Sensei Ichirou and Sensei Sharon.”

“We are, but we don’t do what the MBAs and alleged business ‘experts’ say to do. I’m counter-cultural in just about everything I do!”

“She did say your family situation is ‘different’.”

I chuckled, “That’s an understatement if there ever was one. I need to go into the gym, but we can talk more about this after the tournament. Let me give you my card.”

I gave her one of my special business cards that also had my cell phone number and home number on it, then went into the gym for the afternoon competition. Joe was knocked out in the second round, and Hannah in the third round, which left Marcia, Jolene, and Miyu in the final 16 from our dojo, and Ted and Amy made it through for Molly’s dojo.

Sensei Jim joined Molly, our students, and me for dinner, and then I headed home.

May 28, 2000, Chicago, Illinois

“Sensei Steve? We have a protest.”

I followed the referee who had addressed me back to the mat where two karateka were kneeling, waiting for a ruling. The referee and two judges stepped aside so we could confer privately.

“What’s the situation?” I asked the referee.

“Blue disqualified for illegal contact after a warning. The protest is that the contact was not intentional, and a result of a move by red.”

“Judges’ ruling?”

“They both agreed that the rule requires it, even if incidental.”

“Was the first contact intentional?” I asked.

“Does that matter?”

“If you give a disqualification warning for intentional contact, then it would be the case that any illegal contact, even incidental, would be disqualifying. But, if the original contact was incidental, the warning should have been for loss of a point, not for disqualification. As long as you’re absolutely sure the initial contact was intentional, then the protest will be denied. Do all three of you agree the first strike was intentional?”

“It looked like a clear strike to the knee to me,” the referee said.

“And I put up crossed flags for a disqualification warning,” one judge said.

“I didn’t see it as intentional,” the other judge said. “But it was close.”

“Your judges disagree, but you have the final call,” I said to the referee. “If you say it was intentional, then I’ll deny the protest.”

“It was,” he said firmly.

“OK. The rules are clear. The disqualification stands.”

I walked over to the mat and announced my decision. Seconds later, I had a very angry sensei in my face. As per instructions from Sensei Ichirou, I turned and walked away from the furious Sensei. Two seconds later I was sprawled on the floor from a rough shove in the back.

“DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME!” he’d screamed as he shoved me.

He was instantly restrained and I picked myself up and continued back to the podium where I normally stood. There was tape on the floor around it which indicated that only officials were to approach.

“Sensei?” the referee who’d come to me with the protest said. “What do you want to do?”

“Let Ichirou-san handle it, please. I’m not hurt and I’m certainly not going to ask the police to get involved.”

“OK,” he replied and walked back towards where Sensei Ichirou was talking with the sensei who had shoved me.

Sensei Jim walked towards the podium and I stepped away from it, and across the tape, so he didn’t break the rules.

“Now THAT is the behavior I expect from you.”

“I’m not sure turning and walking away is the right policy, but that is Sensei Ichirou’s rule.”

“We’re all supposed to be disciplined.”

“I know. That said, I think he might have had a legitimate gripe.”

“Oh?”

“The judges disagreed on the initial warning. One crossed his flags, the other didn’t. If I’m refereeing, I’d probably err on the side of a point warning in that case. But the referee made his decision and I had to back him up because I didn’t see what happened, and the call was made on his authority.”

“Which is the right thing for you to do. It’s actually covered either way because one judge went one way and one the other.”

“It wasn’t about cover, it was about proper interpretation of the rules.”

“Yes, of course. I was just saying you could defend either choice by the referee, and in a judgment call, you can’t second-guess him.”

“Just wait until we get video review. What a nightmare!”

“You mean like in Jesse’s hockey game you told me about?” Sensei Jim asked with a rare smirk.

“There’s a significant difference between a judgment call and an incompetent moron!”

“True. Did that referee get his license back?”

“Eventually, but it took about two years. Word is he’s a great ref now. We haven’t seen him at any of Jesse’s games.”

“Steve-san?” Sensei Ichirou said, walking up to us.

I bowed, “Sensei Ichirou.”

He bowed in return, “You are uninjured?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ve disqualified Sensei Martin. There will be an official inquiry to see if he should be suspended.”

“Does he have another student in the competition?”

“No, so the disqualification is really no punishment, except that it results in an inquiry to see what penalties might be imposed by the ISKF.”

“OK.”

“I won’t ask any questions now because I’ll chair the inquiry.”

“Just let me know when you need me,” I said.

“Thank you.”

We bowed and he left just as Molly, Miyu, Marcia, Will, and Jolene came over.

“We’ll talk later,” I said, and moved back to the podium.

The rest of the morning was uneventful, and after lunch Miyu was crowned black-belt overall champion. Felipe won the ‘Senior’ division, which I knew would make Birgit very happy when he told her.

“What happened?” Miyu asked when we left the Field House at the end of the day.

“I upheld a disqualification after a protest. The sensei was obviously very upset and didn’t appreciate me turning my back on him. But we’re not supposed to get into arguments in those situations and Sensei Ichirou’s instructions are to walk away. It makes sense if everyone behaves according to Shōtōkan principles.”

“He obviously didn’t.”

“But Sensei Steve did,” Marcia replied. “He simply got up and continued walking away when he could have put that guy down permanently.”

“And that,” Sensei Jim said, “is the lesson all of you should take away from this - walk away from trouble if you can.”

“If you start singing Coward of the County,” I chuckled, “I might have to violate Doctor Mary’s instructions about sparring!”

Sensei Jim laughed, “And then you’ll find out WHY you should walk away from trouble if you can!”

Everyone laughed, including me.

“Where is that Sensei’s dojo?” Molly asked.

“Downstate, near St. Louis,” Sensei Jim said. “I’ve only met him here at the tournaments and his dojo only started attending last year.”

“I’ll see you all at the dojo. Felipe, do you want me to say anything to your «Tesoro»?”

He laughed, “No, I think I’ll just speak to her when I see her next and show her the trophy.”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you! I assume you know about the event at Great Lakes honoring your dad next month?”

“I do. I was a bit surprised he agreed to it, but I guess Karl was very persuasive. I assume you’ll be there.”

“Yes, of course!”

We bowed and everyone went their separate ways.

May 29, 2000, Chicago, Illinois

“Happy Birthday, Pumpkin!” I said when she climbed into a chaise with me on Monday morning.

“Thanks, Dad!”

“How did I ever survive you turning twelve?” I asked.

“Oh please! Jesse is fourteen and Matthew will be thirteen!”

“And neither of them is YOU!”

She laughed and snuggled close.

I loved cuddling with my dad. He was big and strong and handsome, and I hoped someday I would find a husband just like him. His arms felt good around me, and I loved the way he smelled. This was one of those days when I wished for something the world said I couldn’t have, something I wanted even more after hearing from Rachel what it was like.

“I heard you’re going away with Maria Cristina,” I said.

“Yes, while you’re in Vermont and your mom is in California. That’s when Albert will be in England and Jesse will be in Washington, DC.”

“Matthew said that Chelsea is going to come to Iron Mountain with us.”

“She is. I confirmed that was OK with Aunt Jennie.”

“Rachel said her mom is still ticked at you.”

“Rachel’s mom has no good reason to be upset with me, and you need to keep your cute little nose out of my business, young lady!”

“You ARE my business, Dad!” I teased. “I mean, how could you ever survive without me?”

“I wonder how I survive WITH you!” he teased back.

“Want to know a secret?”

“I thought I knew ALL of your secrets.”

“Not this one! I got my period two days ago!”

“Loki help us!” Dad exclaimed. “No boy on the planet is safe!”

“They never were, Dad! Girls rule, and you know it!”

“You might have a point,” he replied. “I take it your mom got you all squared away?”

“Yep. Pads and everything! And the spots washed out of my sheet and nightgown.”

“TMI!” Dad declared.

“Give me a break!” I replied. “You have two wives, Maria Cristina, and you had Elyse, too! And I know you had Stephie living with you! You know all about stuff like that!”

“Knowing about it and talking about it are two different things.”

“Like that’s worse than changing poopy diapers?”

“Well, no,” he replied, laughing. “What are you doing today?”

“Well, since you won’t cuddle me ALL day, Rachel, Tiffany, Amber, Katherine, Kristin, and both Patricias are coming over. Maria Cristina is going to help us bake cookies. And then the parties!”

“Ready for breakfast?” Mom asked from the door to the sunroom.

“Two more minutes, Mom!” I said.

I actually got three because Dad loves me, and we went to the kitchen to have breakfast with my moms, sisters, and brother. When I finished my sausage, eggs, and toast, and a big glass of milk, I went upstairs to my room to take a shower. When I dressed, I got a fresh pad, something that was going to be a royal pain. I was happy to be a woman now, but having a period every month wasn’t going to be fun. But I was a WOMAN so I could handle it! Boys were wimps!

I went downstairs and helped mom with dishes, and not long after we finished, the ‘cousins’ arrived. Their moms were going to hang out with my moms, but most of the dads were playing golf or spending time with their boys. My dad didn’t play golf, so he was playing a computer game in his office. When Rachel arrived, her mom went to talk to my dad.

“I am not going to debate you or listen to you rant,” I said when Carla showed up at the door to my study.

“Jesus, Steve! Not even ‘hello’?”

“The last two times you were here you tried to restart the argument we had on the phone. Look, whatever your problems are, YOU need to deal with them. I will give you credit for allowing Rachel to tutor Jesse in Spanish and be friends with Birgit, but beyond that? I told you exactly what I thought of your behavior. You had no business reading Rachel’s diary and I am STILL convinced you are jealous that she had a sublime sexual experience and you had one that was mediocre at best because of your own inhibitions! You STILL have those inhibitions fifteen years later!”