JimFormation

There are two dozen of us. We are paired up and kneeling on the bright blue, worn mats.

Most of us are wearing traditional white judo kimonos, some have blue kimonos. White belts are tied at our waists. Some belts have stripes of electrical tape at the ends denoting the student’s depth of knowledge and breadth of experience; new students have no stripes, veteran “white belts” have four.

Each stripe on a belt is indicative of several months of hard training. After four stripes, the Brazilian Jiu-jitsu student earns a new belt color and the striping of the belt starts all over again.

In the middle of the mat, laying on his back, is Tom. Tom has a purple belt keeping his kimono closed. The color of his belt indicates that he has much more knowledge than the “white belts” gathered around him.

Between his legs (in his “guard”) is Manny, a “two-stripe blue belt.” He is today’s assistant instructor.

Tom demonstrates a basic arm lock using Manny as the victim. It is the double arm bar (you can see it here). Because it relies on a fundamental error by your opponent, it is a technique that you will probably never use in your sport Brazilian Jiu-jitsu career, but it is something that you must know as a Brazilian Jiu-jitsu fighter — and it is a technique I’ve seen attempted in mixed marial arts fights.

After Tom’s instructional, we work out and drill the technique with our partners.

My partner, a young man in his early 20′s, is not cool with it. He is disinterested and performs the techniques in a sloppy, apathetic manner. “This is stupid. I’ll never use it,” he says.

“It’s something you need to know,” I remind him.

“I’m never going to catch you or anyone else here in this.”

“Yes, but you might grapple with a wrestler who tries to choke you with both hands. Or even be in a real fight where a guy extends his arms in your guard. C’mon, let’s go,” I encourage him.

He guessed that I was right, but it didn’t improve his attention.

Tom and Manny are walking around the class. They are auditing the progress of their students. My partner and I are two senior students; we aren’t on their radars; we would call to them if we needed help.

We finish before any of the other students. “Come on. Let’s do it again,” I say.

“No, I got it,” he says. “So do you.” He gets up to get a drink of water; I sit in the middle of the mat. He comes back and does some sit-ups; I sit in the middle of the mat. He does some push-ups; I roll my eyes.

This pattern goes on for the remainder of the class. Tom teaches a technique building off the previous. My partner is disinterested. I try to tell him the application.

“Ah. But I know this one too,” he says. “We worked on it last week in the no-gi class.”

“I know it, too. But a boxer knows how to jab and yet he works on his jab every day. A muay thai fighter knows how to do a shin kick, and yet he kicks a heavy bag for hours and hours to perfect his technique. A wrestler will work on his Russian arm drag for his entire career. We need to work these techniques.” I show him how to set up the technique from a different angle that is more applicable to his “sport jiu-jitsu” mindest. Still, he’s apathetic.

And I’m frustrated.

If there is anything I’ve learned from playing competitive sports for 30 years is that you cannot over-drill the basics. Jiu-jitsu is no different.

I try to explain to him the importance of drilling. “We need to be able to do these things without thinking. Our bodies just need to take over. When our bodies recognize our opponent is in a weak position, our bodies need to capitalize before our brain even recognizes what is going on. There is an old jiu-jitsu saying, If you think, you’re late.”

My young partner doesn’t understand this yet. He knows everything already. Which is a corollary to If you think, you’re late — The more you think you know, the more you have yet to learn.

My friend will come around in 10 or 20 years, if he sticks with things that long.