Beaten up

Some 24 years ago, I used to model a beautiful judogi on occasion in a competitive environment. Judo, the gentle art, is not that gentle when one is faced with an opponent determined to wipe the floor with your snot. Add in the mothers of those fierce opponents, who are at least six times my size, yelling helpful comments to their children like; ‘kill him’; and you have a recipe for extra chess lessons!

That was a long time ago and yet I managed to earn my stripes on the judo mat. Sometimes I saw many stars and at others I saw many stars but perhaps a couple less than my opponent!

Saturday brought all of that back to me. My father used to avoid judo tournaments as he could not deal with the intensity of the event nor the fact that his son was the object of abuse. Thinking myself well above all of that, I took my children to their first Judo tournament. Both of them have only had a couple of months of experience in the sport but it was a tournament hosted by our own club; and what better way for them to learn and grow in this sport.

I had the joyous job of weighing in all of the male competitors together with Wild Willie, the father of another father and sons combination in the club. Weighing in the men meant that I got to see them all in their jocks, a rather intimidating experience considering the size and muscle definition of those that would be in my weight category. I wondered how I could be afraid to fight yet still support my children in doing the very same thing!

There were only two five year old competitors and one was my son and the other Wild Willie’s. Both of their names were called out and off they went down to the mat; a competitor area only. There Matt was fitted with a blue belt whilst Theo got a white one (in order to clearly identify them to the judges). I could not help imagining what was going through his mind. As a five year old in this strange environment, on centre stage, with heaps of people watching, following the bewildering amount of formality in terms of bows and etiquette, and waiting to have a fight?

As usual this little guy surprised me; nonchalantly managing the formalities and squaring up to his mate with a smile on his face. He then fought hard and was beaten. He then got up, shook Theo’s hand, and walked off most satisfied with his performance. I cannot explain how proud I was just that he had done it at all.

Luke later got onto the mat and faced off against an incredibly skilled chap. Luke held him off for a little while, but was then thrown spectacularly, probably the best throw in the tournament! Unfortunately it hurt and the Lukester was most upset. He sucked up his tears and fought twice more, winning one and drawing one.

Afterwards both my children said that Judo was sore! I wondered if I had sent them in too soon, but they both were keen to fight again! I was quite taken aback as this had been a tough encounter for them, one of life’s really tough lessons!

It now looks like dad is going to have to put himself out on the mat too, risking failure and plenty of pain, because just maybe I will be successful! And if not, my children will see that it is OK to fail if you give it your best!