Sensei settles in for a moment, at the end of class. We're talking about nothing in particular ... the senior state selections on Tuesday, upgrade classes, the weighing in ceremony on Monday, some support for my injured right leg. And then he clears his throat ... "You know, this reminds me of something."
The chatter dies down. We're sitting Japanese style in the way Judo classes are concluded - a bow to the teachers, and then a bow to the shoman. But occasionally sensei gives us a pep talk. This part of a class allows us to keep track of the updates and the going-ons of Judo in the state, as well as learning things that we can use in our daily lives. And they're usually very inspiring.
"I suppose you've heard of Yasuhiro Yamashita?"
"Ya - that fat man." Douglas interjects.
"Yes, that fat man," Sensei grins, "Well now, let me tell you a story..."
To those of you who don't know Yasuhiro Yamashita's stature: he's a 9 times All-Japan Judo Champion, a one time Olympic Champion, with four World Championship titles under his belt. A 10 year international competitive career, ended only in April 1985 as a 6 dan black belt.
That probably doesn't sound very impressive to the average Joe on the street, until you realize this 'fat man' won 203 consecutive matches, never once defeated in competition.
Never once defeated in competition is no small thing, for any sport, be it badminton or tennis or squash.
The story goes that there was one time, after 3 World Titles and 7 All-Japan Judo Championships that his performance started slipping. His training and his ability suddenly experienced a fall (maybe like Lee Chong Wei?), and thank God he wasn't involved in any international competitions or he'd have lost his record of being undefeated.
So one day his sensei called him up, and asked him why he wasn't coming for training. Yamashita replied: "I'm really busy, doing my thesis ... this project, that project ... etc, etc."
Even before he completed his sentence Yamashita was interrupted:
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
Deathly silence descends on the dojo. A chortle from the water cooler makes us all turn as one, ("Ju-on!" someone jokes) before we turn back to Sensei, urging him to continue with the story. He obliges.
"What makes you so special? Everyone else has to complete their thesis to get a Master's degree. Who are you, huh?"
Yamashita was mad for awhile, but then he turned back to training because his sensei was right. He was not different from other men. He wasn't born special. He was special because of the things he did, the things he managed to accomplish.
Our sensei pauses. He is about to deliver the moral of the story, I think. But he doesn't. He clears his throat, and -
"Back when I was working for a Japanese company there was this one guy - an editor - who would always come late to work. So my boss would go, 'What is wrong with this so and so? He comes late to work for a week, what is his problem?'
"So I told him that the editor works till 4 in the morning, that he goes back, takes a quick shower and then comes back for work at 9.
"My boss replied me immediately: 'Kankenai.'"
No connection. Kanke is connection. Nai is no.
"Sometimes I'll miss a session in the Kodokan (the Kodokan is the Mecca for Judo - the hub of the sport), and I'll tell my sensei - 'oh, I couldn't make it because of rain, or snow. Very troublesome'
"And they will tell me: 'Kankenai.'
"So I'd have to take 4 buses, walk for 2 hours, drenched and wet and even then be slightly late for class - just because my sensei would say: 'kankenai'!"
Sensei lets this sink in for a moment. We are in a variety of positions, all listening: Joash is massaging his blue feet, the dye of sambo shoes making him look smurfish. Chong is punching Douglas's back. I'm gingerly applying pressure to my fingers. They hurt.
"So well. The next time you fail or you lose or you face an obstacle - tell yourself 'kankenai!'. If your car breaks down, will you still go for Judo? No? But if you have a date with a really beautiful girl, wouldn't you come up with all sorts of creative ways to get to the restaurant?"
We all laugh, sensei included. The water cooler releases another chortle ("Hantu!" Chong says), and I ease up on my fingers.
"It all boils down to your dedication. I know how some of your brains work - girls really occupy a lot of your energy, don't they?" - another laugh - "and in the end it's all down to you."
We bow, we laugh, and then we get up and unwrap and soak and ice our various sores. Change back to normal clothes. Watch Tang do the kata.
Why did you lose the monthly contest?Sensei asks about my bible on the bag shelves - I tell him I came straight from church. He then shows us A Book Of Five Rings, by Miyamoto Musashi (I'm not even going to go into who this samurai is), and I snap it up. Gary is picking up his things, folding his judogi. Douglas and Chong are fooling around with weird throws.
Gastric!
Kankenai.
Why did you lose in debate?I return home and open up the laptop. Kankenai. All that matters is I do my best, I give my best, I do all I can to win.
Biased judges!
Kankenai.
Kankenai. No connection.
Amazing what the Japs can do with it, don't you think?
