Monster walks. Armbar drills from guard and rolling. That’s tonight’s agenda.
So from half six til eight, that’s what I’ll be doing. All of my stresses, worries, woes, hates, gripes, disagreements, pains, grievances and many other words I can pluck from the big book of negativity will be given an chance to piss right the fuck off, because for ninety minutes I get the opportunity to continue my symbiotic relationship with the mats.
It’s Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu this evening, and my purple gi is washed and ready (I’ll come back to that another time). Currently writing this half pre-class, as I’m about to pick up my trainer partner and friend from his work, then it’s off to the club.
I feel pertubed about rolling today. I didn’t perform very well last Wednesday, although did well on Sunday. And whilst I’m not fussed about being tapped, I don’t feel I took anything away from the one sided drubbing I was presented last week.
As a blue belt, it’s sort of expected that you’re ahead of the pack when it comes to rolling with the white belts. And whilst I’m confident in my technique, I don’t feel I knit those techniques together very well at times. Often fumbling about like a mole, nosing its way through an olympic sized swimming pool of delightfully pungent shit.
I see a blue belt as an achievement of time on the mats, a grasp of the basics and good demeanor towards the sport.
I seem to be quite hot and cold, as one day I’ll walk in, get thoroughly battered, bruised, destroyed mentally, and the next I’ll cut through people like butter. I guess I’m too emotional at times, and can be petty because of that.
I only ever roll at whatever I’m comfortable with. So if I feel you’re a bit of a ‘character’ (read: arsehole), then you’re unlikely to get much from rolling with me. This likely has to change. All too often, people try to spar/roll with the intent to kill their opponent, and that’s not how I roll.
We’re training partners, this is not a fight. This is practice. Let’s chill the fuck out.
I wanted to incorporate a time passing related lyric here, to show that I’d been to class and everything south of here was post-BJJ. However nothing seemed to work, and it just made me want to listen to Pink Floyd – Time instead. Sorry about that.
Monster walks. Armbar drills from guard and rolling. That was tonight’s agenda.
Now writing post training, feeling refreshed. Aches, pains, worries are all gone for the time being. I feel good again.
I rolled with a fellow blue belt, and three white belts. I kept all three rolls very playful, light and energetic. I wanted to flow from one thing to the next, regardless of the boundries of my abilities.
First up, the blue belt. He trains at a different club to myself usually, and it was nice to see where he was at. He’s been training no gi for a long time, so a lot of movement has translated. This was the lightest roll. It was easy going, slow with bursts with quickness. We complimented one another and didn’t try overly hard to submit one another.
Second roll, a relative newcomer. This roll was a bit more intense, trying to get him to think about passing the guard, whilst making it difficult for him to do so. When he did pass the guard, things got nasty. A lot of pressure across my face, and shoulder. I did not appreciate this, but I stayed calm and awaited the right moment to move. I retained guard, then the gamer part of me screamed FINISH HIM as if this roll were the final boss in Mortal Kombat. I used a technique I’d been working on Sunday. A nice little choke from the guard, whereby you rip their gi out of their belt and pass their lapel over their back to your hand at their shoulder. You then take the opposite hand, plam up grip the lapel and give some jive against that lovely big neck artery. Jazz hand your now non-gripping all the way over to their other shoulder, grip the nice little pocket of gi you’ve created, and try to make the blood in their head boil. TAP TAP TAP.
Third roll, meet ‘Superman’. And yes, I shit you not, that is his nickname. He is quite simply, a super strong nightmare of a man. My goal here was to completely stifle his attack by being awkward. And that I did. He tried countless kimuras, but not of them effective due to good hand placement, grips and shifting of my hips to break his posture. I then swept, passed his guard and drove myself into mount when the buzzer sounded. Fiddlesticks.
Fourth roll, this guy is also strong and has brilliant wrestling positioning. He’s been doing no gi for years, and has handed me severeal arse kicking at it for years. Here he used his superior wrestling to control the pace, whilst I defended any submission he attempted. I’ve found that I’m using my head an awful lot to block hands and grips on the lapel. I have no idea where this came from, but it’s helping my game greatly.
So tonight was positive. I’m still listening to Pink Floyd thanks to the time reference above, and I’ve just had a Millionaire Shortbread Mousse to wash down this bit of blog. I’m about to make some Macaroni Cheese with chillis throughout, stuff my face, then go to bed.
This Saturday, I’m going down to Newcastle to train with Marc Walder. This’ll be the second seminar of his that I’ve attended. He was one of Britain’s first black belts, having been awarded his at the same time as Rick Young and Jude Samuels.
His lineage is impressive, having been handed his black belt by the wonderful Mauricio Motta Gomes. Who you’ll all know as Roger Gracie’s dad. I’m pretty excited about Saturday. I love seminars, it’s a great opportunity to learn a load of new fancy stuff, with likeminded people under the tutilage of a legend.
What more could a lazy grappler ask for?