A couple of weeks ago I was fortunate enough to compete in a local taikai. It was the first time I was competing in the senior dan division, for us old men of 45 or older. Which means that those of us who began the study of kendo as adults, who are of low-to-middling rank, can be matched against our sensei who are ranked considerably higher.
My first match was with a kenshi a few years younger than I and my junior in rank, but a very serious opponent. He trains very hard and competes every bit so, and I was compelled to rise to the occasion. After nearly 4-minutes of fighting, I managed to score kote, and shortly thereafter time ran out and I had won the first round.
My second match was with a kenshi a few years older, and three ranks above me. He is one of my sensei, who regular gives me a sound drubbing whenever we practice together. And so I figured I had nothing to lose by fighting him full out to the best of my ability, not only matching his ferocity, but his strategy. I managed to score a kote on him fairly early on, which surprised both of us. After that, I knew I had to prevent him from scoring on me, and if possible to watch for the opportunity to score a second point myself.
Having been shinpan on the court earlier in the day, I knew that one side of it was susceptible to hansoku. A competitor who steps outside the court boundary once gets a warning; stepping out the second time awards a point to the opponent. If you would call such devious thinking on my part dishonorable, I charge you to remember that Musashi taught his students to use the advantages of nature. When fighting an opponent, a warrior's first concern is to defeat the enemy. If you are fighting at the edge of a cliff, the cliff can be your ally if your enemy steps off of it.
And my sensei, having been shinpan on the court himself, also knew about that weak spot and avoided stepping out of bounds. But because he was thinking about where the boundary line was, he was not thinking about hitting me. We fought for 4-minutes, and the time ran out with me the winner.
"Do not question the gods!"
My third match was with a sensei some years older and several ranks higher, who I know less well. I've seen him for years, and know that he is a most sincere and dedicated swordsman. Again, all I could do was challenge his dominance in the match and fight to the absolute best of my ability. We fought for 4-minutes with no points scored; hike wake, tie match. Encho--1-minute, sudden death overtime. Perhaps 20-seconds into it, Sensei scores kote and I am eliminated.
I had fought very well and have nothing to be ashamed of. My next two matches, in team competition, were less successful. I lost them both, the first by tensing up and reverting to bad habits I gave up two points, and the second, where I fought quite fluid and well against a fierce jodan waza and lost by a badly aimed kote that looked good to somebody.
And when the awards were handed out at the end of the day, I had tied for third place in the Senior Dan Division. The last time I won a trophy for individual achievement was when I tied for third place in a non-degree tournament in 2000. Eight years of training and pain, beatings and the burning acid shame of having been beaten. But now, that is last week's victory.
Next week is the U.S. National Kendo Championship, held every three years. This year it is being held in Las Vegas. I am not competing, have no real ambition to compete on that level. I never really have, and now aside from perhaps some"goodwill" keiko for old timers it is unlikely that I will. We will have a whole new crop of heroes, kenshi who through years of rigorous training will have won, placed or showed, gained in name recognition and reputation, and have proudly represented our kendo federation among it's peers in the A.U.S.K.F.
My third place tie locally has been forgotten by all but the participants, as it should be, and those few memories of it will alter and fade. If anyone got any pictures, I've never seen them and they will be of random, unidentified people. But it was a rare thing, for that one, brief moment. I impressed my sensei, and fellow kenshi, some of them my students. I impressed my 16-yr old son, who was watching me fight for the first time in several years (humiliating losses). He had never seen me win before.
And so I can go to my rest knowing that I am a blessed man.
