So tonight when I entered the colosseum and grabbed the reigns of the biggest ugliest horse in the world (Jiu-Jitsu), I made sure as shit that I taught Kimuras.
For those of you that can’t see into my mind’s eye, or don’t understand the absolute babble I speak, I taught a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu class this evening.
Billy our head instructor is currently M.I.A. Wanted: Dead or Alive. Possibly on holiday, training elsewhere or just having a rest. Who the fuck knows? We may never know. The intent for tonight was an open mat, but on Monday that lacked direction and had to be hijacked by Grant. Who taught a simple class.
Grant being the hero that he is, offered to take tonight’s class. Yay!
Grant being the villain that he is, couldn’t make tonight’s class. Dick.
At this point it usually becomes a coin toss between myself and Paul to teach the class. We have a very different approach to the sport, because Paul’s from a Judo background, and I’m from a sitting background. Paul unfortunately couldn’t make tonight’s class either. I accepted my humble victory as any man would.
I forged a trophy. The Champion of Teaching by Proxy. What a well established, and thoroughly deserved title. I may put it on the mantlepiece. Along with my World’s Biggest Cunt and World’s Laziest Grappler trophies. I am the winningest when it comes to fictional trophies, you know.
Everyone that showed up tonight was a familiar face. This is great, because it allows me to be myself. I don’t have to worry about whether Tom, Dick or Harry are going to be offended by my wry sense of humour. Or the deeply cutting jibes that I may throw at people, to test how thick their skin is. By jibs I of course mean stones. I like to throw stones.
I’m the sort of guy that will sit and polish a rock for several hours, so that you think, why is he polishing that rock? The truth is, I’m polishing that rock so that I can throw it at you, and you’ll still be more bothered about the fact that I polished it first, than the actual rock splitting your orbital open. That’s how my brain works. I’m not normal.
Anyway, I made tonight’s class focus on Kimuras. The reason I did this, as you can probably guess from the title is because I’m pretty fucking shitty at them.
It seems like a weird concept, teaching something you’re bad at, but hey! It didn’t stop my high school English teacher from teaching English. The lazy, thick-skulled fuckhead that she was. Please don’t use this as an opportunity to point out the countless grammatical errors you’ll see in this post. Had I been given the right opportunities, I may have been the next J. K. Rowling. But instead, I’m writing this fucking dross.
Back on point. I’m not what you’d call a natural teacher, and it’s certainly not what I envisioned myself doing when I started these capers. However, when God created me, and set out my path he gave me the confidence of a strong, independant black woman. So I charged onwards.
When I conjure up a class, or at least an idea for one, I’m doing so with a cheeky bit of selfish intent. It’s human nature. We’re greedy little bastards, y’see.
Those around me can learn from what I’m doing, but it also gives me a chance to drill what I’m thinking about, or how to tie together a certain sequence.
I’m fortunate enough now (after years of lazily adapting this sport to suit me) that my movement allows me to blag this shit on the fly. It took me a long fucking time to get to a point where I could think of a sequence, and just know that I could tie it all together in some slapstick Benny Hill fashion.
Tonight’s idea was to take a simple Kimura setup, show where it could lead and how each step can tighten the original Kimura by adding a few caveats to the movement. You’re tweaking each step, and before you know it, you’re the Kimura fucking king. The theory is, or at least what I was trying to achieve, is that by the end of the sequence, your starting point is a stronger version of that move.
Or something like that. I don’t fucking know, but like Beyoncé before me, I delivered the class with all the attitude a sister can. *snaps fingers*
I’m going to hope for the best, and assume that because I feel I tightened my game a little bit tonight, others are going to be able to do so too. Time will tell.*
*No refunds will be given in the invent that you learned absolutely fuck all this evening. Cheerio.