The Long Muh-WAH-Shee: Part 2

The cop was Italian. I know this because he said it a lot. He also, apparently, banged a lot of "broads." Again, I know this because he told us a lot. The Cop was 5'4" tall. At the time, I didn't know what a Napoleon Complex was. In retrospect, the guy was textbook.

The Cop was an ex-cop, but good luck convincing him of that. He talked about all his experiences like they were present-day activities; nothing like the boring security details he'd picked up after accepting early retirement. The perps he'd collared. The chases he'd run, or driven. The broads he'd banged. While I was kicking, punching, and sweating, he and the black belts spent general workout times talking about how awesome he'd been as a cop.

I beat two of his groupies in straight points. It went so quick I thought they were joking with me. I'd been good at a lot of things in life, but the ease with which I'd beaten them was embarrassing. One was a brown belt, the other, black. The Cop himself was a second degree black which meant he could teach. He was my next opponent. In the final match. One of us would win this mini-tournament. I was not hopeful. Not because I didn't believe in my abilities, but because it was too easy, so far, to be believable. I felt like I was being set up.

The Cop was going to be going for his third degree soon. His ego and reputation were on the line. I was 20 years old. But I didn't have to be thirty years my senior like he was in order to know this was gonna go poorly. In my world the teacher losing to the student would be a sign that the teacher had encountered a wonderful opportunity to grow his skill sets. In The Cop's world, it was victory of humiliation.

All this over lame-ass point fighting. Laughable now. But not then.

We lined up on opposite sides of our portion of mat. I faced him. He faced me. Bow. Face teacher. Bow. Face each other. Take stance.

HAJIME!!!

I stood straight up and didn't move. He hopped left and right. Then he hopped towards me a little. I took one soft step back and didn't move.

Most of the fighters liked to hop around like Muhammed Ali or somethin'. In boxing that makes sense. You're throwing punches. In between hops it takes less time to plant your feet and throw the punch. In Karate, not so much. We threw a lot of kicks. Legs are long and heavy. You need time to plant them before you can throw them. His hopping up and down was a show of preparedness, but it would get him caught. One sidekick and one backfist later I was up 2-0.

In high school I played goalkeeper. Then one day I realized I could defensive instructions all the way downfield. It was a ridiculous advantage since it helped my team maintain defensive composure in situations when other teams fell apart. It also meant that I had a pair of big, healthy lungs.

One time in class I yelled the loudest Bruce Lee-styled scream I could manage. The whole room paused. Both of my sensei's came out from the office and every guy in the locker room came out looking for "that loud motherf*ucker." I thought I'd done something wrong. The older sensei just shook his head and walked away. The younger one, Rick, put his hand on my shoulder and gave me advice I still use to this day.

"Use your advantages to your advantage."

The Cop had never heard me scream before. I used it to great advantage both times I scored. In the first point, I waited until he was jumping and jiving close to me.

Quick breath.

AAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-YYAAAA!!!!!!

Mid-jump he lost his footing I'd startled him so. Sidekick to the gut. First blood.

The second time he knew it was coming so I went ahead and used it straight away after the match was re-started. He didn't fall for it, but he was too busy looking for it to pay attention to the fact that I was dodging everything he did. Kick? Block. Punch? Dodge.

BIG Quick Breath.

He braced. I jumped at him, backfist without contact. Second point.

At this point I knew I wasn't going to win this fight. Not because I doubted my skill. This guy needed this fight. His dignity was all wound up in it. The way he pounded his forehead in preparation for the next round I knew he absolutely had to win this fight. I like to teach people lessons and win and stuff, but I didn't like this guy enough to prove it. Besides, I'd demonstrated what I was capable of. Let him have it. Well...not really. I'm not gonna say I threw the fight, but I definitely throttled down.

The Cop came out like the Tasmanian Devil. Limbs and spins were everywhere. I tried to make it look good, but I'm sure Rick knew. Maneuvers I should have worked around I didn't. Blows I could have dodged, I blocked instead. To the inattentive it could have looked like I was gassed. To Rick and a few others, I was just not trying. And within minutes we were tied up.

He wanted the fight. Frankly, I wanted him to win. But I was not gonna just give it up to him. When the call to fight began though, I did not scream. I hadn't in the previous two rounds I'd lost either so he'd either forgotten about it or gotten over it. Either way, I wanted to make his ass earn that last point. I dodged everything, threw kicks, everything. Neither of us was connecting meaningfully. And with the match so close Rick was not gonna call the match on a pitty-pat connect.

Time for clarification. I was a green belt at this time. The Cop was a black belt. I was not allowed to punch. So how could I backfist? Because he was so wide open when I did it, it would have been ludicrous for me not to and not get credit for it. However, according to the rules of the dojo whites, yellows, and greens (me) were not allowed to throw punches until they hit blue (my next belt to test for). Even when point-fighting higher ranks.

I danced around The Cop as he threw everything he had. Sweat poured down his face. And at some point I decided I'd had enough. I screamed and threw The Long Muh-WAH-Shee.

The Long Muh-WAH-shee is a kick designed to be your most powerful. Most recognizable in Muy Thai, it's when you bring your back leg, presuming you have one shoulder pounted towards your opponent in a side-stance, up and try to connect it upside the head of your opponent. If you do it right it could cause a concussion. If you do it wrong you've just told your opponent you want to be blocked and punished for your insolence.