Hierarchies of Competitive Fighting in the New Millennium
Competitive fighting is a bizarre but grossly positive phenomenon. Systematic approach of any socially obscured topic requires a skeptical but patient handling of facts. All forms of competitive fighting seem to share an indifferent general audience no more interested in the social effects (if any) being inflicted by it on others than those effects changing patterns of thought in their own minds. The aim of this article is to reverse this effect, to “be-wit” the mob into an assembly line of productive thought, while fulfilling the authoritative duty of labeling the greater good without resorting to subtleties.
There are in fact two problems with the modern perception of fighting competition. To start: peaceful citizens find themselves wading in the resin of it. Currently there are two excitingly violent programs viewable on prime-time network television which chronicle the career of a half dozen aspiring western boxers contending weekly for a secure career. Secondly, hand to hand fighting in general has become in the new millennium anti socio-historical. Citizens of any and all nationalities depend primarily on police and military protection, kindness of strangers, civility, trust, altruism and social standards for personal safety. For the rest there are guns, knives, cocktail bombs and throwing rocks. Police and military ought to know a thing or two about melee so that the average citizen need not to, and yet does. Or so it would seem.
These two problems seem to fit hand in hand forming a cohesive cross piece in a far grander puzzle. In the words of the wise Upanishad Shankara “Disease is not cured by pronouncing the name of medicine, but by taking medicine.” Aware, yet witless to act or think, the consumer plays for years with the diseased blastocyst until becoming numbed by it’s previously sharp rush of adrenaline, then simply grows apart from it. The viewer of the fight, alongside the contender, perpetuates the sensory disease without ever becoming wise to its effects.
Unsurprisingly, the contender holds better position to observe the effects of the bizarre system than the mere spectator will ever see. The infamous martial artist and film actor Bruce Lee, when asked by one of his students what he would do if ever attacked in public, responded “I hope that would never happen, because I would need to hurt him badly and perhaps even kill him. I would feel bad for the man’s family, I may even go to jail. I hope it never happens.” Lee made appearances at hundreds of tournaments during his career as a demonstrator, but never once competed.
In the close observation of any and all fighting competitions, each may be broken down into two immediate categories: “Static,” in which the rules of conduct are rigid, or “Dynamic” in which the rules of conduct are loose, allowing fighters the liberty of adaptation. In modern Western boxing, a classic example of static method fighting, contenders are limited to striking with the tightly clenched fist from an upright, standing position. In contrast, the dynamic method known as Shootfighting, a blend of south American ground fighting and kickboxing, employs the opponent being knocked to the floor and struck repetitively using any part of the body while being pinned down by the attacker. Both competitive styles utilize primary elements such as timeframe, restricted space, and a common sense standard of conduct (clean underwear, no outside objects etc), however the philosophy and purpose behind both are fundamentally different. These will be explained in more detail later on.
The sub-categories which fissure from static or dynamic styles regard the amount of punishment a fighter is allowed to impose on his opponent. These categories are known as “Semi” or “Full” contact. Like static versus dynamic are universal properties derived from any and all observed fighting competitions. Imagine a gauge and needle which measure the overall damage one fighter inflicts on another. At the far right side of the gauge is a red bar which indicates a penalty. A fighter who crosses this bar in terms of attacking his opponent will be penalized and/or disqualified. This is the way of semi-contact bouts although the gauge and are only metaphoric representations of the rules. For a competition to be both static and dynamically based is a physical impossibility. Likewise impossible for a combination of semi and full contact. A full contact match eliminates the use of any gauge which restricts damage, allowing fighters to pummel themselves within the framework of established rules.
Both semi and full contact competitions carry the risk of injury, a fact all too often overlooked by fight promoters and fighters looking to improve their resume. Olympic taekwondo, a fighting sport dominated primarily by speedy and powerful kicks, has adopted the use of chest protectors and helmets for fighters. Such jostling kicks to the head are poorly absorbed by the thin, foam helmet. An opponent struck by such a kick will feel a shattering force ambiguously painful to that of a roundhouse from a professional heavy-weight boxer. The amount of padding adorned dictates nothing in the literal meaning of contact in this case, only the official reaction of presiding competition judges to such a heavy blow determines whether a match is full or semi-contact. In Olympic taekwondo, a fighter sending out such violent kicks is often severely penalized, if not immediately disqualified from the match, making the sport officially semi-contact.
The Dynamic competition category cannot be dissected further. The rules of conduct may or may not restrict the level of damage a fighter can inflict before they are penalized, but conduct can be dissected no further on a universal level than this. For this reason dynamic fighting has become recently popularized under a plethora of pseudonyms: “Ultimate”, “Anything Goes” and “No-Holds-Barred” fighting to name a few. This bizarre form of combat with fragmented, constantly changing patterns of adaptation has currently grown to the level of general popularity exceeding most any static competitive style imaginable including boxing and wrestling. New dynamic fighters are constantly immerging from the shadows into the world view, then quickly dissipating back to make room for even newer ones with even better adaptations to the traditional methods. To understand why, a closer examination of static styles is needed.
Static styles in both full and semi contact are immediately levied into deeper categories called “In” and “Out” styles, which are defined by the distance at which the fighter executes his moves. This distinction becomes extremely important in regards to stance and repertoire of movements available to a fighter at a given moment during competition. Out-fighters are positioned too far away from their opponent to grapple with them, while more apt to strike with the limbs from such a position. In-fighters are free to grapple their opponent, but their close proximity makes powerful kicking and punching an impossibility. The traditional wrestler is completely vulnerable at a distance, but once he gains position deep inside the striking range of an opponent, the roles are reversed. A boxer’s tools of attack are greatly impaired once his opponent moves to a deep, inside position.
Within in and out styles emerge two more highly distinguished organizational levels of competition. These are “Percussive” and “Non-percussive” styles. Percussive refers to explosive attacks, like those in traditional boxing in which the time of contact is extremely short. Non-Percussive styles are those which rely on slow, pushing motions such as those in wrestling in the which the time of contact is very great. The opponent easily absorbs the impact of the wrestler which causes him to move his position in space. The boxers opponent however, maintains his position in space while his body is oscillated by the sudden impact. These two very different styles serve special purposes in isolated scenarios. Neither can be considered universally superior by any means.
Non percussive styles can be somewhat divided into splintered competitive sublevels of Prone and Upright fighting, while percussive styles are further broken down into distinct percussive movements: Linear and Circular. Even these can be further broken down moving further and further from a unified to specified combative element, but such an attempt to dissect a nerve would require the skill of a seasoned surgeon with a nanometer thin scalpel. This overgeneralization would be unproductive to the goal of eliciting productive thought, borderlining scholastic over indulgence.
Boxing has seen irreverent change in the last 3 generations, transforming almost completely from out to in-fighting ever so gradually. No longer are boxers the gentlemanly sportsman curved elaborately backwards daunting revolving U-shaped fists. Modern competition has transformed boxing in this way from it’s ancient ancestral game of fisticuffs to the animalistic exhibition of skill and endurance we have today. “Pistol” Pete Marovich, a professional basketball player drafted by the Utah Jazz during the1970s, well known for his outlandish displays of “fancy” ball handling, changed the entire basketball perspective forever which at one time was centered on fundamental skills and brute strength. As a boy, he’d visit segregated black playgrounds in his Alabama hometown and watched the other kids play basketball, quickly becoming fascinated by the seemingly chaotic by visually intriguing methods displayed.
The traditional, conservative methods of fighting are being challenged year after year, and like those coaches who at first laughed at Pete Marovich’s style of play, traditional fighters are scoffing the new methods and clinging stronger than ever to the old ones. Wherever cries of criticism and unfairness of modern fighting competition can be heard or read, one of two types of people will undoubtably be found at the source. First, the traditional boxer, wrestler or otherwise static form of fighter whose methods are being proven obsolete, or secondly: the unwitting spectator who gives credence to such rhetoric. Naturally dynamic full contact fighting receives the majority of criticism, since therein lies the threat to the static fighters tradition and in some cases his entire livelihood as an instructor, trainer or competitor.
A fighter who remains true to their static style is no less effective in their fighting skill than that of the dynamo. On the contrary, the static fighter should be commended for his faith and artistry in which he dedicates and thus conducts himself. Sound evidence has been presented in favor of a necessary evolution in fighting competition, if for no other reason than the general popularity of fighting itself. However, there is still no evidence that a static style will not someday prove superior, despite the results of witless spectator polls. Until that time, it can only be asserted that dynamic fighting is the future of fighting in which hope can be invested that something better might incubate.
* * *