Martial Arts Teachers Tips

The teacher eyes the line the students have formed along the wall, from the black belts at one end to the white belts at the ff other end, with brown, green, yellow belts in between. He looks at the brown belts and says, "Mr. Williams."  Within seconds, Mr. Williams is standing perfectly still in the center of the floor, eyes staring straight ahead. "Ms. MacMaster," says the instructor. Instantly, Michele finds her­self jumping to her feet and running to take her place in front of Mr. Williams, arms jutting down at her sides, ending in clenched fists. She looks straight at her opponent. He looks confident, skilled, even angry. "At me?" Michele thinks. Then she remembers that half the battle in sparring is maintaining concentration. Michele takes a deep breath and clears her mind of everything except the task at hand.

The instructor shouts the command to bow. With their hands at their sides and their legs together, they bow, neither one of them taking their eyes off each other. Another com­mand echoes from the instructor, and they assume a fighting stance—fists at the ready and one leg back, positioned to kick or sidestep away from a kick. As they step back, they both project deep abdominal shouts.

A third command, and they begin sparring. Michele's opponent wastes no time, lunging into her with a straight punch, which she successfully sidesteps, but a sudden round­house kick plants itself in her midsection, not quite knocking the wind out of her but startling her nonetheless.

The teacher calls for both students to stop. "Are you all right?" he asks Michele, who nods in the affirmative. At this point, Michele's level of determination shoots up several notches.

After a quick admonishment from the instructor, Mr. Williams agrees not to kick or strike with full force—a real no-no in class sparring. "Nothing more than a tap," says the teacher. "Save that other stuff for competition," he adds, referring to point sparring in which martial artists compete for trophies and ribbons.

Both students square off again. This time Mr. Williams doesn't rush in. Michele twitches as if to throw a punch. He falls for the fake, and sidesteps what he interprets as an advance. Then Michele throws a side kick that taps him firmly between his rib cage and hip.

With sweat dripping down her face, Michele feels a rush of excitement. "So that's what it feels like to score a point in sparring," she thinks to herself. Then her attention turns quickly back to Mr. Williams, who, she thinks, is probably annoyed and slightly embarrassed that he was hit by a yellow belt. But with true martial arts spirit, he hardly shows it.

As they resume sparring, Mr. Williams releases a hook punch from the left to the side of Michele's head. With her hands already correctly positioned near her face, she easily blocks it. Then he throws a left jab, which she barely blocks in time. Now it's her turn again. And since she's only inches from him, Michele strikes with her knee, which causes Mr. Williams to step back.

Using the space she has created between them, as well as her five-foot-seven-inch frame, to her advantage, Michele throws her right leg in a long roundhouse kick at Mr. Williams's head. Predictably, he shifts his head away from the kick, which puts it in direct contact with the back of her right fist, which she has since thrown to the other side of his head.

The instructor yells for both students to stop. They return to the center of the floor, hands at their sides, legs together, heels touching, and bow to each other. They shake hands, and thank each other. Then they turn and run to their respective places against the wall. Michele glances at the clock and notices that the whole sparring session took no more than about four minutes. She feels the sweat dripping down her back, her hands are shaking slightly, but she feels a sense of accomplishment she has never felt before.

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