Breadcrumbs
Dennis Bandiero
As the pandemic began to fade, my home dojo, Tomiki Aikido of Raleigh, reconvened for training. Unfortunately, as was the experience of many dojos across the world, our reboot involved many less aikidoka on the mat. We found ourselves in a one-dimensional dojo (four black belts), out-of-shape, and very rusty. We knew it would be unwise to jump back into intensive, repetitive training, so we decided to embark on a low-impact, entirely experimental venture. We spent much time poking and prodding the entire TAA curriculum, along with other concepts Justin Chang Sensei brought in from his cross-training in Arnis and traditional aikido. In one class, we might critically assess each other across an entire set. Other times, we’d spend the whole class on a single technique. During these free-wheeling explorations, a voice from our past started to make frequent visits.
Justin Chang Sensei and I began our aikido journey under the tutelage of Jason Koch Sensei. He learned aikido in the Tomiki style in his hometown of Baltimore, Maryland, ultimately training under the esteemed Kondo Sensei. By the time we found ourselves on Koch Sensei’s mat, Justin and I were very far apart. I was a 45-year-old man years removed from disciplined movement. Justin, on the other hand, was an extremely agile teenager with an athletic bent. Although our respective paths differed greatly, we shared the common experience of “Kochisms.”
“Kochisms”, as we respectfully termed them, were analogies, mnemonic devices, and axioms used by Sensei to explain common themes and concepts found in aikido. Honestly, I was so overwhelmed with the basics at the time, most went over my head. For his part, Justin later confided that many of Sensei’s observations were lost on him also. He added that he just did a better job of concealing his confusion than I did…
Fast forward to several years later. We now found ourselves isolated from other aikidoka and practically starting over. As we slowly rebuilt in our now top-heavy dojo, Justin or I would occasionally pause during an exploration and say, “What a second, is this what Koch Sensei meant when he said…?” It is very gratifying to finally understand some of these grains of wisdom. As these “Kochisms” are obviously memorable, I would like to share them along with the situations that switched on the light bulb years later.
“Remove looseness”
This was once said to Koch Sensei by a Japanese instructor. The translation of the Western phrase “take up the slack” makes it memorable. We quote this one frequently as a reminder to achieve connection with uke by rotating their arm or wrist (and less frequently, their head). While a fundamental of most techniques, this concept is easily observed in oshi taoshi and mae otoshi where transitioning uke’s loose arm to a more rigid structure is usually the key to a successful throw.
“Fighter planes”
Sensei used an analogy to aerial combat or trick flying to explain the energy produced by some tegatana movements. As an example, let’s look at Uchi-tenkai-nage, the second technique from the standing set (Tachi Waza) of the Koryu Dai San. In this technique, kuzushi is established by tori taking uke’s grab up almost vertically above tori’s head, then suddenly dropping uke’s grab at a steep angle behind uke’s back. You can think of tori’s tegatana as an airplane gaining height to create potential energy, then releasing this energy by sharply turning and diving.
“Like a snowboard”
Sensei’s analogies also extended to footwork. One fundamental that I’ve frequently revisited is tenkan. For a while, I took this important footwork for granted thinking, “You’re just turning. Don’t overthink it.” Eventually, Chang Sensei, among others, pointed out that my lazy, sweeping turn was “tenkan-ish” but not strictly tenkan. My shortcoming was exposed during a detailed look at tenkai kote hineri, where I struggled to lock the hineri after the turn. Sensei demonstrated how his turn is entirely on the pads of both feet, not a looping sweep at all. After several repetitions, I realized this movement is precisely what Koch Sensei, an avid snowboarder, described many years before as, “the way snowboarders and skateboarders turn 180 degrees.” Having sworn off skateboards after almost killing myself on one in 1979, his comparison didn’t originally stick, but it’s now part of my lexicon.
“Ballerina”
This remains a good-natured critique in our dojo for when spinning techniques like tenkai kote hineri and tenkai kote gaeshi are performed in a delicate and ineffective manner. Although the general movements are performed correctly, uke is barely affected and usually responds with a causal ushiro ate counter. As previously described, one fix for “ballerina syndrome” is for tori to sharpen their turn like a snowboarder. Another common fix is to extend uke further during the spin to ‘remove looseness.’
“It’s hard to escape a vortex.”
As a white or yellow belt, I distinctly remember hearing Sensei say this and having little idea what he was talking about. Sometime later, I realized he was probably describing a good waki gatame. When first learning the technique, students tend to struggle with the idea that uke’s elbow must be on top. Otherwise, uke (especially during randori) can simply yank their arm out of the would-be vise. Eventually, one learns to accomplish “elbow on top” by catching uke under their wrist and projecting the arm forward in a barrel roll (another aviation term!) Even better is to combine the barrel roll with a decisive snowboard turn. Anyone who’s been caught with a good waki gatame knows how difficult (and potentially dangerous) an escape attempt can be.
“Breadcrumbs”
Individually the clever analogies make for excellent teaching points, however the next “Kochism” lays out a larger plan:
“I’m just dropping little breadcrumbs. Some you may pick up right away, others will take a while. If you keep practicing, you’ll come to understand them all.”
How correct he was! Justin and I certainly picked them up, but some we unconsciously put away for a later date. Additionally, we had to pick up some of the breadcrumbs several times before we achieved understanding.
You no doubt have collected many such breadcrumbs from many fine instructors over the years. I certainly have. But some of Sensei’s original breadcrumbs traveled a much further distance with us before finally revealing themselves.
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