Chapter 8: The Exhibition

I read in the paper that a Greater Boston Area mixed martial arts exhibition and belt competition was to be held that Saturday, at a local university. Angie wasn't that hot on it. Having spent eight years in Okinawa practicing martial arts every spare moment, I felt it necessary to observe this match. I bought a new gi and belt to match those in storage up near Chicago and washed the hell out of them to try and soften them up a bit. I didn't know if they'd offer a changing room at the meet so I changed at the ship and covered up with a knee-length oilskin. We took a taxi to the meet as the weather was packing in.

We sat in the first observer's row. A judge came up to me and looked over my black belt with its three thin red lines.

He asked "Do you wish to compete?"

I replied "Not unless forced. I am prepared to judge if necessary."

"What are your schools?"

I smiled. He was going to think I was bragging.

"Shotokan, Tai Kwan Do, Kumdo, Wushu, Silat."

He stepped back and eyed me warily. "Your masters?"

"Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, several temples and dojos."

He nodded. "It is possible. It is possible." We bowed and sai'ed to each other.

Angie whispered to me "What was that all about?"

"I presented my bona fides, so to speak. I've got provisional ass-kicking rights."

She had no idea what I meant. I just smiled my bright little smile. Breathe. Breathe. Grow down, grow up. Spread out, be aware. The light changed a little for me. I smiled some more. I hadn't done this in a couple of years. I felt my hair move on my arms, back and head.

"Hey, Angel? Got a couple of quarters?" I made them dance over my knuckles while making my eyebrows dance in a totally different rhythm. It used to drive my Sifu crazy. Angie giggled. A few others caught my act and watched.

Soon I heard the double-clap and straightened up, stopping my shenanigans. We all bowed to the pictures of the founders on the wall, then to the rank of judges. First came the exhibition. I kept up a running commentary to Angie as to what was going on. I was disappointed when they started using mock weapons. I could tell by how the performers moved their centers of gravity that the weapons were too light. They were mock-ups. I shook my head.

"Travesty. This is a side show."

I rose and walked outside. I was sad and angry. This was not what I had learned. This was a slap in the face of the traditions and skills representing the art. This was an actor's imitation of the real thing. I couldn't watch it. I had to do something. When the call went out ending the exhibition I re-entered the hall. I approached the judges and bowed. I explained my sadness and anger. I wished to perform a kata with the horse knife. I asked for a 2x4 as well. I approached Angie.

"Do you trust me? Do you trust that I know what I'm doing?" She angled her head sideways a bit and nodded. "Good. Then stand over there and hold this 2x4 with your hand on the top and the bottom on the floor. Just hold it still at arm's length and close your eyes so that you don't flinch."