The Good, the Bad and the Ugly about the 2nd Pacific Northwest Jiu Jitsu Championships

I’m working on a link to the results page … As soon as one is up, I'll post it.

The Good: Griff did very well. Lindsey and Robert both did well in the 172-184 division, as did Jeff. The t-shirts were pretty cool; free for all competitors.

The Bad: The tournament was terribly run. Some of us (white belt 149-158 and 172-184) showed up at 9 a.m. and didn’t get a first fight until 3:30 p.m. That may happen in some of the big regional tournaments, but this was inexcusable for a small local tournament like this. Some of the things that seemed strange in the beginning (i.e., running gi and no gi simultaneously) only became more macabre as the day dragged on. Can somebody explain to me why purple belt absolute finals are taking place before two white belt divisions even have their first matches? It seemed as if the kids were fighting all day long. According to Rebecca, there was plenty of grumbling by the kid’s parents, and I don’t blame them.

It’s very simple. First, don’t run no gi and gi at the same time. Maybe they were afraid of people doing both and opting out of the gi finals in order to “save themselves” for no gi competition. I agree that sucks. But I’m not convinced that this was a good way to handle it. Second, if you tell people to show up by 9 a.m. to register, then you need to make sure that everybody gets a fight before noon. I don’t think that’s asking much. I can’t think of anything more annoying than for somebody to have to wait from 9 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. (as I did), wondering for hours when they are going to fight, then get a fight, lose, and go home because the event is pretty much done at that point. At least if you get a fight in the first hour or so and lose, you can relax and enjoy the rest of the competition. Terrible, terrible planning as far as I’m concerned. The only people that should be fighting six hours after the competition begins are people fighting for first and second place.

The Ugly. In a word, me. I lost by armbar from the guard. It was eerily like my first fight ever a little over a year ago. We start standing, locked up. I try to snap him down, and get a pretty good snap. Then I manage to get double underhooks and try to twist him down (instead of getting a good reverse pivot and throwing him Greco style). Nothing doing. He’s had enough of that so he pulls guard (very well, I might add) and we go to the mat.

Okay, here we are in the fucking crucible. I try to get control of his hand to go for the handcuff, but he feels ridiculously strong. I know that’s my lack of fuel talking. He’s working very hard to get control of my arms and I’m on the defensive, trying to regain my posture. Rodrigo is yelling from the sidelines behind me to get the collars and the sleeve and stand up. Eventually, I do that, picking him up from inside his guard. So far, so good. I get the obligatory “don’t slam him” warning.

Here’s where I really fucked up. As Rodrigo pointed out afterwards, you’ve got to be patient at this stage. You’ve got to wait for the guy to tire of trying to hold on. Then bring your legs together a bit, and push down on a knee—stepping back with the leg on that side if need be. Instead, I rushed it, tried to shake him off (which used up too much energy) and then eventually returned to the mat in his guard. He kept going for the armbar and eventually got it. I tried to stack him, and was actually doing okay defending it and looking for an opportunity to yank my arm out. I tried at one point, but got stuck, and that was just the opening he needed to sink the armbar in with about a minute left.

I was pretty upset about the loss, losing again from a simple technique inside the guard. But I know a lot of the emotion behind the loss also came from the lousy experience of the tournament (see “The Bad” above). I felt like I waited around all day for a nothing performance. Rodrigo came up to me afterward and said some encouraging things—as well as rightfully scolding me for not doing the proper standing guard pass. I appreciated that a lot—Mamazinho hadn’t said a word to me all day, so it was nice to hear from somebody before or after. I know I’m not always the easiest guy to rap with, but six hours in that damn gymnasium … you figure a little “howyadoin?” wouldn’t have been too much to ask for …

Whatever. Like I said, a disappointing day on almost all counts save for those mentioned (see “The Good” above). I’m very glad that Jeff won in his first tournament and glad the Griff had the success that he did. Tommy and Clint both lost their blue belt matches—Tommy’s in particular was suspect and ended in overtime. So that sucks. But at least they got to fight before noon.

Back to training tonight. The Copa 8 NW is six weeks away. Here are a few rules for the road to the next event.

You can’t do in competition what you don’t do in practice. I drew up a lot of plans going into the tournament, but many of the ideas were things I’d figured out “intellectually” in the last week or so. That’s not going to work. I need to spend the next six weeks specifically working on my gameplan so that it is ingrained in muscle memory, not just “brain” memory.

Three words: Standing Guard Pass.

Muscular endurance. I don’t think this was the issue so much in this fight. But one thing that will make me more “willing” to do standing guard passes will be stronger legs. You don’t need to have Marcelo Garcia’s thighs do to a proper standing guard pass, but it doesn’t hurt to know that when you go to stand, the effort will be minimal. I’ve worked up a new workout routine using dumbbell complexes that should help me maintain a high level of output during training, as well as preparing me for specific techniques.

Flexibility. Something else that wasn’t a factor, but that I want to improve over the next six weeks. Groin, hip, quads and hamstrings are the most important areas. I need to hit them everyday—training or no training—no excuses.

Work from the bottom. Three for three on “that wasn’t a factor, but” … I did tell myself that I wanted to improve my attacks from the guard in general. I’ve got a sense of setting up triangles, but armbars from the guard are a non-starter. Let’s try armbars from the guard every practice from now and until November.

DIET. I want to work my way toward 150 for the next tournament. My caloric restriction was nothing too severe for this one. But I weighed 157 at the weigh-in the night before which was too close for comfort. Ideally, I’d get down to about 150 with about two weeks to go, then easy up a little and let my weight drift up to the 155 range.

That’s the plan. I’m not bothering about my top game, even though it is also vulnerable to the same sort of “mind over body” problem as every thing else. I need to PRACTICE my top movement, particularly reversing out of keylocks and kimuras into armbars. Improving my work from rear mount is also a priority.

There is a certain relief after a tournament in any event. It's a chance to start over with a new training regimen, new determination and new focus. But I've got to take advantage of it. The first four weeks after a tournament are more important in many ways than the last two before the event. Like Rickson Gracie says two weeks out from his Pride fight in the movie Choke, the time for hard training is over. I need to bust my ass now, so I feel familiar and confident come November.

My record, for what it’s worth, is now 4-4 in five events over the past year. A perfectly average “freshman” season, I suppose. The question is whether or not I improve from here. I know what I need to work on—which is also a point of self-aggravation. Working on my flaws—and not having a consistent guard pass is lethal for a top player—is the only thing between me and the great blue.