Bob (not his real name) had severe head
injuries. In a fight years before, his
head had been struck with a baseball bat multiple times, leaving him legally
blind. His ankles, knees, shoulders, and
back appeared to be made of glass – his first forward roll attempt left him too
injured to practice for a month. All the
instructors at this school quickly wrote him off, which meant he came to
me. Seiza and any ukemi were all
seriously painful and seriously injurious to him.
Bob was also 6’8” and around 320lbs. When I tried to load him in a koshinage, he
could leave his hands and feet flat on the ground while lying across my
hips. He could not arch backwards
without his back spasming – a simple backbend left him sitting out for half
the class. His shoulder would spasm when
he was gently stretched in Ikkyo.
This wasn’t my school; I had moved to a new city after
getting my Shodan in 2000 and intended the move only be temporary. The head instructor there had Shihan aspirations
and was something of a rogue in our association. He had his own way of doing everything, but
he had skills that I was interested in and this was the only Aikido school in
town. The instructor also had other
influences besides Kawahara Sensei, and really planned to be an equal of his
shihan rather than a student. To his
credit, this teacher did achieve the rank of shihan before his untimely death. This was not a Kawahara Sensei dojo, and this
dojo was soon to be thrown out of the CAF.
The CAF test syllabus and Kawahara Sensei were not followed there. Many things I wish I had known before I moved there for work and family
reasons.
When Bob would ask me, I would tell him Aikido might not be for
him. He would take it as a personal
challenge, redouble his efforts and show up for every class (spending most of
the class in too much pain to do anything resembling Aikido as I had been
taught it.) I was completely at a loss.
He would take the bus to the dojo, then by the time class
was over the bus would have stopped for the night. Legally blind, he would walk miles on icy streets
in the dead of a cold, hard, windy winter to get home to his trailer. I started to drive him home after class.
It was very apparent that his size had not been enough to
keep him safe in the past from his injuries.
However, his size alone was enough that a local security company hired
him as a night watchman. I was nervous
for him.
He quickly got bored and frustrated practicing Tenkan. He could not receive anything on the entire 5th
kyu test in the CAF. He was determined
to test, even to perform the koshinage.
It didn’t matter that Kawahara Sensei took one look at him at a seminar and
said not to bother – “John, he’ll never do koshinage for real.” I learned this was like waving a red flag in
front of a bull to tell Bob this: he
responded by trying to do koshinage to everyone in the dojo. His hips came up to my rib cage when he stood
naturally, and he could not bend his knees much without pain, and his back
would be messed up for several minutes just for taking any weight on his low
back.
Weapons work was not a solution. He never wanted to practice solo. His shoulder and wrists would quickly get
injured with any momentum or impact and he couldn’t raise his shoulders above
his head comfortably. His vision also
meant that he would swing at the vague outline of the person in front of him,
with no precision really possible but enough power to make any of his partners
nervous. Bob stated he would never carry
a stick with him, he wasn’t allowed to use one at work, and the average ceiling
was too low for him to do a Shomen uchi.
Really, a Bo staff fit him like my Jo fit me. His mammoth neuropathy-fraught hands would
frequently lose control of the jo and send it flying/falling in a variety of
disconcerting directions.
He still said he loved Aikido. I offered to drive him to a Taiji class,
knowing he would not quit if I asked him to.
I was disgusted with the actual instructors at the dojo who continued to
encourage him while never instructing him.
He injured himself with frightening rapidity, and I got exhausted just
listening to the litany of damaged muscles and joints. He had people telling him all his life even
before his injuries that he was a freak and a loser and not good enough. His life had been a hard, long list of
challenges that mostly beat him down. He
had pride, determination and a desire to Eat Bitter like no one I ever had the
privilege of teaching.
A neurologist had been teaching Aikido briefly in Saskatoon
and had retired from Aikido. As part of
leaving the Art, he donated a large number of books to Saskatoon Aikikai. I had jumped on a number of books at the
time, and found two small thin books by a woman named Dr. Lee Ah Loi. I knew very little about Tomiki Aikido. The books sat on my shelves. The material was too vastly different from
what I was training in, so I thought someday I would return to them when I was
ready.
Then, thanks to the internet I found out Tomiki had been six
feet tall. He had not been the usual
5’5” or less that I was used to seeing in Japanese instructors. O Sensei had a student that must have towered
over him and everyone else in the dojo.
I started to re-read those two books.
The differences really were in the basic starting
point. The “Hand in the Face” that I had
never heard a name for had several distinct specific variations. In practice, we seldom did these motions but
they did feel natural in randori. Except,
we never practiced the falls out of these techniques, so they scared everyone
in randori. Even when this technique was
appropriate to do, we had a laundry list of techniques we tried to do
instead. A certain aggressive personality
type became associated with “Hand In The Face.”
In contrast, this dojo was trying to teach Bob Shihonage,
Kaitenage, Koshinage, Aikiotoshi and Suwari Waza. He could sort of do Iriminage or Kokyu Ho
(Sokumen Iriminage) but the upward motion meant he tended to miss my head (the
top of my head could have rested in his armpit). He would miss Ikkyo and hit me in the head at
least as often as he would control my arm.
He loved Shomenate right away. His vision let him dimly see my head, and his
bearpaw hands covered my whole face. I
had to work on my own ukemi to avoid a concussion. The first three Tomiki techniques came very
naturally to him. The third in particular
was very strong from a high position. He
was thrilled and felt like he was making progress. He liked my poor attempts and adaptations of
the releases.
I hoped I would never offend any Tomiki teachers if I met
them – and I had no illusions that I was doing their techniques well. I vaguely knew some Aikikai teachers would be
angry I had gone in this direction if I paid Tomiki Aikido credit – but few
Aikido teachers even knew what Tomiki Aikido looked like. At this point, the local head instructor was
out of the country all the time and his own students did not teach
anymore. I had inherited a regular class
time by sheer attrition. I was only in
this particular city temporarily, and it was getting time for me to leave.
Bob insisted on being tested for 5th kyu. I was not present. The local instructors asked him to do an
otoshi variation for koshinage that left him too injured to practice or work for a
month just for attempting it. I had even
told them Bob was given dispensation specifically from the technical director
of the CAF, and this was only an optional technique for anyone anyway. Bob was given his 5th kyu by those
present. Months later when I was living
in the USA, he called me upset when he found the test paperwork had never been
sent in or filed. He never received a 5th
kyu certificate to my knowledge. The
dojo had collapsed after I left, and Bob had been ordered to quit Aikido by the
people who “promoted” him. He missed my
classes. For all the times I asked him
to quit, I felt livid on his behalf. I have lost contact with him, and I hope he is happy and in good health.
The lesson I learned from my brief and poor study of Tomiki
Aikido was that different heights do make a difference in how techniques are
performed. O Sensei did not demand the
first Aikidoist 8th Dan he ever promoted act like a short man. The heavy emphasis on “traditional samurai
suwari waza” was nowhere near as evident.
The more-difficult-to-apply but safer standing pins were given more
emphasis. Atemi were given more
emphasis.
I also learned about my own technique – at 5’11” I was the
second tallest in my original school. My one time
nemesis was, of course, the taller man at 6’1”.
All I had known at the time was this one person was harder to throw than
the 5’8” guy who had been my uke for years for grading. With 6’8” Bob, my ego had to be left at the
door and I had to wake up. My Ikkyo was
for a taller person against a shorter person; most of my techniques were. I had to spend huge amounts of time playing
with hanmi handachi (either role) to find out what I decided Tomiki Sensei
already knew.
Someone with superior height, superior reach and superior
stride did not have to be a “bad,” challenging Aikido student. I could teach a tall man to work to his
strengths. I did not have to order Bob
to imitate someone 5” tall to have him practice our art. I could practice and teach around devastating
injuries – and no one has ever come close to offering the same challenges that
Bob did.
As time went on, I also learned that Tomiki was the original
Wartime Sensei. I had been shown many
practices that were declared “more martial” by the dubious virtue that they
were painful and injurious to practice by all concerned. In “Angry White Pajamas,” the Yoshinkan
student author states that too much Aikido practice meant he had to stop
running and take up cycling instead. By
contrast, the powerful simple movements that Bob was practicing also were less
harmful to his body.
I am unhappy that I was never given the name of “Hand In The
Face,” nor a specific training method for it and it’s variations. For any Aikido students reading this, I
highly recommend the Randori No Kata of Tomiki Sensei as worthy of study. The first four techniques do not appear on
our test requirements, but they are so fundamental that they appear spontaneously
in our free practice all the time. This
is a piece of Aikido heritage that I recommend we embrace. Damn the politics. We all know this technique. It has a name and a teaching method.
I really enjoy Nick Lowry's work on Youtube. If you, like me, never learned the name of "Hand In The Face," check out his video on Shomen Ate, the first basic in Tomiki Aikido:
The Second Technique, or Aigamae Ate:
The Third Technique, or Gyaku Gamae Ate:
There are 17 techniques in Randori No Kata, and I recommend the videos whole heartedly.