LEGENDS OF KUNG-FU #15
Kung-Fu People Can't Fight
I'd originally planned to write this month's column on words
of wisdom from another traditional Chinese martial arts authority,
but I came across a few people this week that changed that for
me. I was at a social gathering this week where some people were
talking about Chinese martial arts. What made this interesting
was that these people were not members of the martial arts community,
not martial arts students, not martial arts instructors, not hardcore
martial arts fanatics, but rather, just racially diverse people
who were random representatives of the public-at-large. Being
part of the martial arts media, I was eager to play the fly-on-the-wall
and just listen in without revealing myself.
When the conversation turned to martial arts, I was really surprised
to hear that the "uneducated" public still had a reasonably
good grasp on the different martial arts, even the Chinese martial
arts. Many of the people I talked to knew that Jet Li was a wushu
star back in China, had heard of Bruce Lee's jeet kune do, and
knew something about Shaolin kung-fu and tai-chi. Thanks to all
of the widespread media coverage from Playboy Magazine to the
Los Angeles Times to the regular specials that appear on the Discovery
Channel, the general public has an increasing awareness of martial
arts, which to be a secret world for them.
One comment in particular grabbed my attention. A 28 year-old
Caucasian woman mentioned that if she were to start taking martial
arts lessons that she'd stay away from the Chinese arts "since
they can't fight". I was waiting for a while to hear someone
stick up for the combat worthiness of kung-fu fighters, but I
found myself waiting for quite some time, and by then, my attention
shifted to a cute Asian girl on the other end of the bar. The
reality of the situation is that the 28 year-old Caucasian woman
was indeed correct. As much as I hate to say it, it's the truth.
And here's why.
Most traditional Chinese stylists (modern wushu excluded) can't
fight within the confines of their traditional style. Many kung-fu
stylists who are good fighters these days have sought out training
in other non-Chinese arts, such as muay Thai, Brazilian jiu-jitsu,
or Filipino kali to better their chances in combat. Does this
mean that the style they began learning is a sub-standard style?
Does this mean that traditional kung-fu is little more than a
nice calisthenics routine? Does this mean that all the stuff of
Chinese martial arts lore is just legend without factual basis?
NO.
Regardless of style or background, ask any fighting authority
from wing chun's Gary Lam to combat shuai chiao's David Lin or
even Korean hwa rang do's Taejoon Lee and they'll tell you that
most Chinese martial arts students lack traditional combat skill
because they fail to spend the adequate time mastering the fundamentals
of their chosen art. The phrase I've heard over and over again
is that "Chinese people have too many techniques and don't
take the time to really master any of them." Some people
have criticized certain Chinese martial arts by saying that the
simpler systems like wing chun are the only ones that produce
fighters since the student isn't burdened with learning tons of
different flowery movements in a whole slew of forms. This is
partially correct. But then how does that explain those purists
like Daniel Yu Wang who can handle himself combatively while still
being proficient in a variety of ornate styles like bagua, chaquan,
and tai chi?
It's simple. There are 4 main ingredients to a good Chinese martial
arts fighter that can be acquired. The flow is like this:
1. hard training in basic techniques - Take a single movement
or short combination of movements and practicing them ad nauseum
until you find yourself capable of performing those moves with
power, speed, and balance whether you're in the training hall,
on the street, in a swimming pool, or on the toilet. The difficult
thing here is that you may have hundreds of moves in your chosen
system, but to be a competent fighter, you just have to choose
a few techniques that suit your body and your personality and
perfect those, instead of trying to do that with every single
move of every single form that your sifu has in the curriculum.
You have to be at the level where you can do your chosen move,
even if you're ill or injured;
2. partner drills - Every style from northern Shaolin to Yang
style tai chi has some sort of two-man fighting set or partner
drill, like wing chun's famous sticky hands. When you constantly
practice the mechanics of your chosen techniques on a live body
and a resisting opponent, you start to understand how to position
yourself better, adjust your timing for a smoother entry, and
close your openings so as to not get brained on the way in. Practicing
moves in the air is just to get your body used to moving in a
certain way. It doesn't provide you with the adequate training
to develop proper positioning when facing the variations presented
by a live opponent;
3. concentrated thought - One of my close friends and great sparring
partner told me that the reason why he got so good at kicking
was that he'd always be thinking of ways to use his feet against
an opponent in every situation. If we were having dinner and someone
would be standing near our table, you could see him thinking of
ways to kick or sweep without leaving the chair. If we were actually
doing drills or sparring, he'd take a particular kick, and work
on implementing that one kick as the prime blow with every clash.
That kind of mental effort brings your technique to a different
level. You're not just doing choreographed routines or drills
anymore. In this case, you really become one with the technique;
4. free sparring - No matter how many drills you do, nothing
is the same as free sparring. If you want to see how your techniques
have improved, just get in the ring or step on the mat. If you
can start setting up your opponent with your attacks and start
defending his attacks without panicking, then you're on the right
track. Free sparring isn't necessarily the same as full-contact
sparring. You can begin with light contact and even practice on
a regular basis with semi-contact, but to know your fighting prowess,
there's no way around getting it on with an attacker in a full-contact
situation. My rationale for saying that is simple. Unless you
know you can take someone's strike and not lose your will to be
in the fight, you don't know your level. Unless you know that
you're not going to ruin your underwear when someone lands a stiff
backfist on your lips, bangs their shin into your shin, or sweeps
you so hard that your butt goes higher than your head, you just
don't know how tight your game is.
If you consider yourself a traditional Chinese martial artist,
do yourself and your chosen art a favor and take these words to
heart. We don't make traditional Chinese martial arts better by
importing other systems. We make them better by working harder
to make the traditional techniques applicable in our modern settings,
in our modern clothes, and in our modern lives.