The jist: I got second place, winning four of six matches. My two ippons came from sasai, a really simple and basic throw—but having some other throws in my arsenal would’ve definitely helped. The other two matches I won on the ground, by hold-down and submission respectively. Quoth the organizers: “Wow, no serious injuries this year!” All I suffered was a bit of matburn and a bruised shin.
The breakdown…
- This was my first match and I was wired. He was a little bigger, but only a yellow belt, and turned out to be fairly timid. When the match begun I approached slowly and he backed away. So when he was within reach I exploded, messily taking him down for a koka. I think my suddenness startled him, so after we were stood up I kept the burner on, feinted a step-in which caused him to tense, then ipponed him with sasai. This ippon also led me into a good position for an armbar, which I didn’t have to use.
- By far the most brutal match of the day. He was a short tank (orange) that favored double-leg takedowns. I defended these fairly well, and we ended up in newaza a couple times. I came out of one scramble with an armbar (juji-gatame, with him on his side) but felt I didn’t have anything in my toolbox to pry him open with (except brute strength, which I was running short on). Clearly I need to study armbar breaks. So I let it go and we were stood up. Eventually he ippon’d me with a forward throw. I landed hard on my head and almost blacked out. After the match I was warned that I shouldn’t let go of the armbar—”let the ref restart it, don’t YOU restart it when you’re in a good position.” I was also warned about leaning way too far back when I throw my sasai, but a lot of the time I find that’s the only way I can get my opponent moving. Unfortunately that’s the worst thing you can do against a small opponent. I need better posture and body choreography to get the kuzushi.
- Probably the heaviest guy in the group. He was winning the match and threw me down (koka) but I managed to catch his leg in half guard. With both my legs and one hand controlling his leg, I got the ref to stand us back up. During another scramble I took his back (hooks in) while he was turtled. Even in this dominant position I didn’t know what to do. I heard my corner telling me to stretch him out, so I pried him open, exposing his neck, but didn’t get the choke in time and we were stood back up. Once again he took me down (koka) but I scrambled into a sloppy kesa gatame. I felt like I couldn’t improve my position without losing osaekomi so I held on for dear life with substandard grips. Somehow I managed to keep him down to score the ippon!
- Nice and quick, just how we like ‘em. He was an older guy, lighter than the other guys (so closer in weight to me), but ranked blue. Early in the match he threw a hard leg sweep at my safely grounded leg (*thump*). After a bit more dancing I responded with a sasai. Now this was cool: time nearly froze and I distinctly remember the experience of having him floating in front of me. I even felt like I had time to steer his body in the air, and pushed him down onto his back for the ippon. He complimented me on the throw afterwards, and a spectating friend told me it was “beautiful.”
- Because of double elimination rules, I had a second chance against my opponent from match #2. I benefited immensely from some coaching a black belt from my club gave me. In particular, I need to stop treating shorter opponents like they’re tall and push them into the ground—bury them. Using this advice I felt like I had more control and wasted less energy. Eventually it went to the ground and, in a scramble, I took his back. I only had one hook in, but it was the perfect opportunity for a hell strangle. I twisted, grabbed his leg, and quickly I got the tap! Man, was I ever happy. I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to sink a choke in the high-speed setting of a judo tournament. Winning this match meant I had a chance to fight for first place.
- At this point I had to pee, and didn’t want to wet myself if I went unconscious in my next match (not joking). With two more matches to take place on my mat, I decided I’d have time… but they were calling my name and the guy was already on the mat when I got back. Totally embarrassed. Anyway, we started. While an orange belt, this guy was heavier than me and overall more experienced. It was a very long match, going the full five minutes. He threw me down once but I managed to get him with a figure-four “lockdown,” and I stretched him out, just holding onto it. It seemed like it took the ref a long time to call matte though, and resisting him made me ridiculously tired. I think my conditioning is one of my strong points, and figured he should be tired too, so I kept the pressure on. I reached into my bag of tricks, attempting a sweep-reversal where I bait my opponent by standing perpindicular to them (everyone at my club expects this from me, but this guy’d never seen me before). He took the bait but unfortunately I was too slow/tired to reverse him. Throughout the match I had more problems with overcommitting to sasai, often resorting to pulling him into my guard—I was warned I could be penalized for this. At one point I had him in my guard and felt a scissor sweep would be perfect. But I was just too tired to even lift myself to perform the sweep and we got stood back up. Early in the match I was ahead due to his two penalties (stalling, I think?). But then he turned up the volume and threw me with the aforementioned koka. We ran out the clock, and he totally deserved to win.
Overall a good experience!
Before the match, one of the blackbelts with my club was helping me warm up. We did some forward throws and he showed me some important things that’ve probably been keeping me from doing a good forward throw:
- You need room to turn. If you have a high sleeve grip (above the elbow) and a high collar grip (closer to the crest of the shoulder) you limit the “give.”
- Check your watch.
- Get your lower body turned and then worry about your upper body.
- When you bend down, get up on your toes, and point your heels out. It’s awkward at first, but after you’re used to it you get superior balance.
Tags: judo
