RISING SON
Cung Le American Sanshou's Golden Child Speaks
Out on His Past, His Present, and the Future of What Might Be
the Most Exciting Standup Fighting Sport
Interviewed By Mark Cheng
When you hear the word "sanshou" mentioned
in the USA, the next words that should pop into your head should
be "Cung Le." This Vietnamese-American dynamo has almost
single-handedly pushed the popularity of this modernized style
of full contact kung-fu fighting to new heights, never before
enjoyed by the Chinese martial arts community. But as with any
success story, there is a price to pay for every triumph that
Le has enjoyed along the way. In this exclusive interview with
Black Belt, Cung Le speaks for the first time on the demons of
his childhood, the wars he's waged in the ring, and his prayers
for the future. This interview was conducted a couple of days
after Le's first K-1 exhibition fight in Las Vegas, where he soundly
trounced his opponent, Mohammed Laminn Keta.
Black Belt: In your previous interviews
for the press, you've spoken a lot about your martial arts training,
so this time, tell me about your early years.
Cung Le: The early years started out in
Vietnam. I was born in Saigon in 1972, and fled to the US in 1975
with my mother and her side of the family. We resettled in Salinas,
California, briefly before settling down more permanently in San
Jose, California, where I've been basically ever since.
When I first started school, I was built more
like a string bean. Always got picked on and pushed around. Keep
in mind that this was right after the Vietnam War too, so I always
got names like "gook", "chink", and things
like that. My family had to move to different school districts
more than a few times because of that. I tried fighting back,
but when you're that young, size always wins. It wasn't until
like seventh grade when I started to get out of fights on the
winning end, and that was only part of the time, mind you.
BB: So at what age did the martial arts
come into the picture?
CL: I started Taekwondo at age 10, but
that was short lived, maybe for like ten months. My mom worked
a lot of hours, so taking me to and from practice regularly became
impossible. As a little kid, I wasn't focused enough to benefit
from the forms training, which didn't help me at all when the
school bullies were picking on me. As a result, I didn't get too
involved with martial arts again until eighth grade, when I started
freestyle wrestling with a junior high program.
BB: How did wrestling change your life?
CL: Wrestling changed things for me immensely.
It made me look at my life and my situation in a deeper way. Part
of it was with the bullies, since they left me alone. Once I'd
started winning as a wrestler, people stopped picking on me. It's
funny how people love a winner, but if you're not, then it's like
open season. The other part of it was the hunger to succeed, and
a lot of that had to do with growing up in a single parent family.
I watched the other guys on the team, and saw how their fathers
used to encourage them and give them the kind of fatherly love
that I was missing.
When you're that young and you see another kid
win a match and then the father takes the family out to Sizzler
for a celebration meal, and you don't have that, it makes you
work harder for a little bit of recognition. My mom came to whatever
matches she could, when she wasn't working, but it just wasn't
the same. That's not to say that I'd have it any other way, now,
since I love the way things turned out, but at the time, it was
a little difficult to swallow. I did a few stupid things as a
kid, got in with the wrong crowd, experimented with alcohol and
stuff, and vandalized property, all for a little acceptance from
other kids. Coming home in handcuffs once and seeing the tears
well up in my mother's eyes was enough for me to change. That
and wrestling. Now, I realize that those experiences taught me
to be man enough to stand on my own and accept the responsibility
for my actions.
Following junior high, I went on wrestled in
a really competitive high school program that had freestyle, collegiate,
and Greco-Roman styles for all four years. By my junior year,
I'd earned sixth in the state and high school All-American recognition.
Anyways, my winning streak was halted briefly during my senior
year, when I was sidelined due to injury.
BB: What was the injury?
CL: My head collided with someone's braces
during the state meet, slicing open my scalp. The 11 stitches
that it took to close the wound forced me to sit out the rest
of the tournament and forfeit my chances at the title.
BB: You also wrestled in college, right?
CL: Yes. I went to West Valley Junior
College, and took top honors in the state during my freshman year,
took 3rd place in my sophomore year, and made two-time All-American
as a result. I wrestled competitively in any arena that made sense.
I took the triple crown for the AAU Nationals. The "triple
crown" means that you win three events: sambo, Greco-Roman,
and freestyle. At one point, I tried out for the national team,
and placed fourth, never making the top slot that I wanted.
BB: You mentioned that you won a sambo
title. Did you train in sambo too?
CL: No. The way that happened was that
I just went to compete in some wrestling events, and I heard about
sambo's rules. They sounded good to me, so I just went and did
it. I had no formal sambo training at all. To tell you the truth,
that's basically the same manner in which I found out about sanshou.
I heard the rules - kick, punch, throw - and I thought "Wow,
that sounds cool", so I went and just did it. My mentality
is like this: just work on your tools and if you like the rules
of a certain kind of competition, jump in and do it. If you have
your tools sharpened properly, you'll succeed.
BB: Did you compete in judo tournaments
as well?
CL: No. Judo was like the only mainstream
grappling thing back then that I didn't compete in. I rolled with
some judo guys for a little while to see what it was all about,
but I never really got into it, either formally or competitively.
BB: So your formal martial arts training
was just ten months of Taekwondo and years of wrestling?
CL: No. I started back into formal martial
arts training in late 1992 with Master Pham, who taught both Taekwondo
and Vietnamese kung-fu. He was the same teacher I initially started
training with back when I was ten. Unfortunately, we had a falling
out in 1995, and I went on my own shortly afterwards. By 1995,
I'd been winning tournaments left and right, teaching all or most
of Master Pham's classes, promoting events such as tournaments
for him, and yet still struggling to pay my own bills.
BB: So since you weren't seeing any financial
income, what did you end up doing?
CL: As a result, I started teaching at
a local sports-fitness club, and the classes became so popular
that they kept on bumping into larger and larger rooms. When the
club got bought out, I got this new 4,000 square foot school.
Teaching has been a successful venture for me, but it requires
a lot more than simply just showing up and teaching classes. Just
like preparing for a fight, having the right people in your corner
helps to make for a successful commercial school. Things are going
so well right now that we're about to relocate to an even larger
location.
BB: So when you're teaching now, do you
pass on the traditional Vietnamese kung-fu and Taekwondo to your
students?
CL: No. Although I learned those things,
I was never really good at remembering forms when I was younger,
which are an integral part of both of those systems. I could do
the single basic techniques perfectly, and I could spar well,
but I never really had a knack for the forms until later on in
life. That's a large part of the reason why I gravitated to sanshou.
You just work on basics and then the application of those basics
in a fighting situation. No forms to remember.
BB: Obviously there have been other influences
on your martial arts skills since then. What else has made up
your martial arts training in the past few years?
CL: I'm one of those guys who'll go out
and see something that resonates with me, and then I'll incorporate
it into my own training so I have the best possible techniques
for myself and my students. My training partners have been very
beneficial to me that way. Someone will come along and I'll see
something that might help me in the ring. So then I'll train with
them, learn their specialty, and we benefit from each other. All
it takes is someone to show you a technique or a theory. It's
up to you to put it into action and apply it in the ring. I picked
up muay Thai that way.
BB: You also trained briefly with the
Gracies, didn't you?
CL: Yes. Ralph and Cesar Gracie. Their
groundwork is awesome, as everyone has seen, so as a wrestler
it made perfect sense for me to gain exposure to what they're
doing and open my mind to that system of training with submissions.
Unfortunately, the commute to their school is fairly long, and
I have to shoulder the responsibility for my own school here,
so my training there didn't last as long as I'd have liked. Also,
there's not too much call for groundwork with what I do in sanshou,
although it definitely helped in fights like the Shidokan.
BB: Does western style boxing figure into
your training?
CL: Boxing is definitely a part of what
I do. I went down to Orange County for a while to train in boxing
there, and one of my trainers up here, Jivoni Jordan, is also
a good boxer that I work out with. The thing is that I make sure
to include the other parts of good training to make myself a complete
fighter. Things like roadwork, sprints, power lifting, running
the bleachers. Even football pass drills are part of my training.
They actually make you run faster than you normally would, since
you're sprinting down the field to catch the long pass. My training
sessions can get really intense, so once in a while, you have
to change things up to keep it fun. Changing things around like
that makes it fun for my students too. That's why my two gyms
are doing so well, even for the people who come to train just
to get in shape and never spar or fight.
BB: Is that the secret to your success?
CL: The secret to my success is faith
in the Lord, plain and simple. Aside from that, then it's hard
work. Actually, anyone can work hard and go into a fight prepared,
and still lose. You have to know your body, and know your limits.
If you're training, and you start to feel burnt out, the change
something or back off a little bit. You just have to train smart
and not overtrain, like I used to do in the past. That kind of
smart training and proper preparation gives you confidence in
the ring. You don't have to second-guess yourself. It's also what
makes the difference if you lose. Knowing that you put in all
you could makes it easier for you to lose graciously without regrets.
BB: There's always the risk of injury,
even in training, let alone with the actual fights. What do you
do about training when you're injured?
CL: You don't stop, but rather train around
your injury. Like if you sprain your wrist, then work your kicks
or something else. Also, you have to know how to protect your
injuries when they do occur, so that they heal properly. I've
been lucky to stay relatively injury free for a while now, but
if you watch me fight, you know I always wear that black knee
brace. I injured that knee wrestling in college, but it's been
back at 100% for a long time now. The brace is just a little added
protection. But maybe it's about time to do away with that. A
few guys I fought, especially the guy I just fought at the K-1,
were using that knee brace for target practice, so maybe it's
time to put my little good luck charm on the shelf.
BB: Speaking of the K-1, I heard that
your fight went five rounds.
CL: Yeah, it's been two years since I
went five rounds with anyone in a sanshou style format, actually
since the Draka tournament. It was an ISKA sanshou title defense
for me. My fight was just to add some different flavor for the
K-1 crowd, since the sanshou rules are obviously so different.
Over here, it's not like in Japan, where people will fill the
Tokyo Dome just to watch world-class kickboxing. Americans wanted
something in addition, so the head promoter, Kazuyoshi Ishii brought
in sanshou and muay Thai fights to add a little different flavor.
I think it worked to get the crowd's attention and entertain them.
I'm very happy that because of guys out there like ISKA's Strike
Force promoter Scott Coker and Ishii, sanshou is getting more
attention and gaining new fans.
BB: Do you think that sanshou fighters
have a place in tournaments like the K-1?
CL: Sure, but the problem with that is
the lack of throws. I saw a K-1 tournament in Japan that featured
fighters from China and Japan, and because the K-1 rules prohibit
throws, you could see very clear differences in what was going
on. The Japanese fighters were far more adept at throwing knees,
but the Chinese didn't have the use of their best weapon - throws.
That was a distinct handicap for them, so for me, when people
always ask me if I'll fight other rules than sanshou, I say "Of
course, as long as I can throw." I don't care what you allow
in the rules as far as strikes. Knees are fine too. Just as long
as I can throw.
BB: In a tournament like the Shidokan,
you were forced to wear a gi. Was that something you were uncomfortable
doing?
CL: Not at all. It added a different flavor
to the fight. The only thing about wearing the gi is that it gets
hot in there. It's also a little more like being in a streetfight
to me. You know, like when someone grabs your leather jacket and
pulls you into a knee or something. In sanshou we're out there
bare-chested, so it's a little different. To me, it was a new
experience, definitely. Shidokan was great because throws were
allowed all the way through, regardless of the variations in striking
rules that go on through the different rounds. It was a fast format.
Even the groundwork section only gives you 15 seconds to work
for submission. The fighter I fought in the finals, Arne Soldwedel,
was the hardest fight I've had yet. Although I knocked him out
in the seventh round with a right hook, it was a total war. We
were in each other's faces, going back and forth for a long time
before he dropped. I couldn't bend my leg for six days after that
fight, and almost retired after that one.
BB: So what's next for you as a fighter?
CL: A professional sanshou world title.
Right now I own the US title, but I still want to win the world
title as a pro. I almost got a chance to fight the kid from Iran
who I got disqualified against in the World Wushu Kung-Fu Tournament,
but he backed out. There's also still Ramazan who gave me my only
other loss in 1995.
BB: What was the deciding factor in that
fight with Ramazan that gave him the win?
CL: Back then, I'd only been fighting
sanshou for one year. I started into that format in 1994, and
he was just more experienced than me. That's what did it. He knew
how to score the points, and muscled me down when he caught my
side kicks. I didn't change my game plan during the fight either,
which was a big mistake. He was on the Draka circuit for a while,
but I haven't heard of him since.
BB: You fought Draka in Los Angeles a
couple of times, right? Is it simply Russian-rules sanshou?
CL: Basically. The only difference is
that they score throws a little more generously as long as you
give the other guy a lot of altitude on your throw. I took the
Draka fight not too long after the Shidokan, so I still wasn't
back at 100%. In the fourth round, I ate a good punch that sent
me breakdancing across the ring (Le grins), but I still managed
to regroup and win that one. I think the Draka fight was what
gave me the big break in notoriety, because I had the big throws,
sending him to the canvas over and over again with a lot of air.
It was like WWF style, almost.
My next Draka fight was with Minaru Taro. He's
awesome. In Japan, he's one of the guys who'll fight whoever comes
his way. He went to Thailand and beat guys in Lumpini Stadium,
which is like the home of muay Thai. That was disturbing news
for me to find out just before the fight, but I just jumped on
him from the opening bell and knocked him out in 52 seconds, thank
God.
BB: Now that you've signed a 4-fight deal
with ESPN's Strike Force, and are now a professional fighter,
is there the possibility of you fighting K-1 in the future as
part of the main draw, and not just as a sideline?
CL: Here's my real problem with that.
I'm too small to fight those guys. The K-1 is for heavyweights,
and there's a serious weight differential that I'd have to overcome
to be able to play on their level. Like if I stepped into the
ring with someone like the late Andy Hug, God rest his soul, then
I'd have my work more than cut out for me. Those guys are phenomenal
strikers, so there's no way I could do that kind of a tournament
unless they introduced a smaller weight division. I've been fighting
as low as 175, and the lightest guy in there is like 215. I think
right now, my responsibility is more to promote sanshou.
BB: Your friend, Frank Shamrock, has done
quite well in No-Holds-Barred fights. Has he tried to get you
to make that jump?
CL: A lot of people have talked about
it, but right now, I just don't have the time for it. Sanshou,
or "sanda", is my thing, and promoting that style of
fighting is a full-time job for me. Guys like Frank and Sakuraba
are excellent champions in their sports, so I'm happy to stay
hard at work here with sanshou. Frank and I have trained and sparred
together, which was a lot of fun.
BB: What else is on your plate, aside
from teaching and training?
CL: Quite a bit. Career-wise, I'm an entertainer
when I go out and fight, but now I'm making a move into a different
side of that business. Miller Beer just featured me as a boxer
in a commercial, which has been airing. TV and movie are also
goals of mine. I just did a short independent film project too.
Personally, I'm enjoying my marriage to my high
school sweetheart, who also manages the business affairs of my
schools. It's great having her work with me as a team. We're expecting
our first baby soon. My hope is to be as successful a husband
and a father as I've been a fighter and coach. That's my prayer
for the future, and my new drive as a fighter.
Now the stakes are higher, since it's not
just fighting for myself anymore. I've got to put food on the
table, so now I can answer the critics who said I was too nice
when I fought. With a baby on the way, I don't have the luxury
of fighting at anything less than the top of my game, so that
when people watch me fight, they experience the maximum thrill
that sanshou has to offer. I'd love to be the guy with the most
well rounded game. Like if a boxer watches me fight, he might
say something good about my punching, whereas a wrestler might
say, "Wow, that was a great slam or suplex!" And of
course, I want the martial arts students to be able to enjoy the
kind of aerial kicks and sweeps that I can do. Every performance
in the ring is a chance for me to entertain people from every
background like that. Along with that higher level of notoriety
comes more responsibility though. Especially when I think of how
I'm going to have to answer to my son, I realize that it's more
important to be a good role model for not only my students, but
also the fans, and my own child. I don't want to be just some
guy who's a great fighter in the ring but is empty in his personal
life. The fighting is great, and I'll do it as long as I can,
but your priorities have to be in the right place, a place of
where you can be a positive influence on people's lives on every
level.
For more information on Cung Le, visit
his website at www.cungle.com