Jan 2022 was eventful. The day after I received my first stripe, coach Gene was
tested positive for Omicron. (He suffered nothing and returned after two weeks
of, as he put it, boring Covid vacation.) I did not get the bug in spite of
hugging and shaking hands with him that night or maybe I just had no symptom.
The school was closed for three days and Eric took over.
At 50 and a picture of health, the head coach looked glowing. One of master Jean
Jacques's best students, the Filipino had reached the level where he created
moves on the fly. I liked his teachings as he was about my size, which made them
instantly applicable. Showing up for almost every class, I naturally caught his
attention. "You come everyday!" he would flash his perfect teeth and slap hands,
to which I replied "I'm getting old. No time to waste!" He taught when rolling
with me and told me not to fret about not being able to execute a new move as
"We are only planting seeds. In a few months, you will discover that suddenly
you can do it." His sincerity and conviction were infectious.
Next, Chris, who had started and trained for 10 years in this very gym, was
awarded the blackbelt. About my height but five lbs lighter, he partnered with
me often, never used excessive force, and taught me a lot over time. Among the
nicest guys in the gym, he inspired and set an example for us beginners. I was
genuinely happy for him.
The third Sat, I rolled with a purplebelt lady and she caught my left foot. I
defended but got caught again. She squeezed, I tapped a bit late, and felt the
sprain. I skipped squat and running on Sunday and it took a whole week for me to
be able to sit in half lotus again with that foot on top. These things happen.
But in general, the gym's rule was that a higher-level guy should take care of a
less experienced partner. Where there was an injury, the former was to blame.
This month, I felt even more comfortable at the bottom because I started to turn
to face my opponents more to put up a frame, e.g., with an arm and a knee, for
both defense and offense. In addition, the idea of staying small at the bottom
started to make great sense. Underneath, I could easily ball up, scoot around,
find space, and get on my knees to attack. But once in the "turtle" position,
often my head got caught and my opponent would start choking me from the front
or back. I desparately needed to improve in that area. In general, my partner
often got a good cardio workout as I moved nonstop.
I have become used to being submitted, by higher level guys or by fellow
whitebelts. At the same time, I couldn't help noticing that everyone I could
dominate had disappeared. A long list of fresh whitebelts, including James,
Enuk, Nikolai, Iyuresh, George, Alex and his brother, etc., joined around the
same time as or slightly later than I did, but I don't see them any more. I am
again at the bottom of the totem pole!
Only two or three whitebelts show up in class these days. It is a problem with
many competitive jiu-jitsu schools where only the strong, the big, and the
athletic guys are less likely to be derailed by tough training and they get to
stay and progress. The small and the weak for whom the art was created have a
hard time for a couple of months and leave. The first two months were the worst
for me. Toughing it out and coming on the mat each day were the right choice.
But being able to make that choice was thanks to years of physical exercise,
Henry's videos, and Tim. My regular training partner is 20lbs heavier, five years
younger, and a wrestler in highschool. With these opponents, my ego has to go.
