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In the 1990’s when I was into, really into, martial arts, I drove to some small town in central Illinois to compete in a mixed martial arts tournament. It was held in a small gymnasium, and it was cold outside. I won my first three matches of the long day and waited to see who I would fight for the finals. Just like I thought, I once again had to fight an old tournament nemesis Jose who was from Chicago but from another Dojo near Wicker Park. We’d fought twice before, and we both won once. I knew I would have to be on my game to beat him today. He looked good in his preliminary fights. 

The fight began with a customary bow and we both backed up. Some fighters are bouncers. What I mean by that is the fighters tend to bounce up and down like Muhammed Ali. We both knew this tactic was a waste of energy so we both cautiously circled each other. I made the first move, a quick front leg kick to the inside of his lower leg which caused him to lose balance and I followed it up with a quick backhand to the side if his head. The referee yelled MATE, we stopped fighting, and I was awarded one point. Four more points and I was the champion. I knew I could not use that technique again, but I knew he thought I would. 

As we circled each other again I lunged forward to fake a kick to the same leg. He lifted his front leg to avoid the imbalance. I quickly recoiled my front leg and sent the kick to the side of his head. The referee quickly yelled MATE again and awarded me two more points. The score was now 3-0. Two more points and I was driving home with the trophy on my passenger seat. I was thinking I would put the seat belt on the four foot trophy. 

I knew Jose was going to be on the offensive. I also knew his patented move was to fake a front kick, jump forward and land either a backhand to the head or a follow up punch to the ribs. I was ready for it. Here it comes! He jumped forward and as I awaited the follow-up punch, what followed next was a move I was unaware of was in his arsenal. He quickly stepped back and before I knew it, the foot of his back leg was bouncing off my ear. I had a feeling the ringing in that ear would last until I got back to Chicago. Where the hell did that kick come from? My old foe had perfected a new move and a fast one at that. MATE was called, we were again separated, and the score was now 3-2. 

That new kick now had my attention. I knew if I was to win this fight, we had to fight close like we were in a telephone booth. I wanted nothing to do with that new long range missile of his. As we continued, I closed the distance until the fight was more indicative of a Moi Tai competition. We were both well versed in this style of fighting and for a few seconds our defenses were on point. In one sharp movement I threw a lazy left hook to his right side to redirect his attention and shot an unexpected elbow to Jose’s right cheek. MATE was called again and the referee separated us. One more point to me. The score was now 4-2. One more punch or kick and the fight was over. 

I once again pressed the action and grabbed his shoulders. We both saw an opening and at the same time we both threw left hooks. It was very quick. As the referee separated us, I thought my punch landed first but in all honesty his left hook was very fast too. I would have to trust the judgement of the referee. One point to Jose. Damn it, the score was now 4-3. In a way, it was like I was fighting myself. 

As the sweat dripped down our faces, we both circled each other for what seemed like ten minutes. In reality it was about 30 seconds. We were both thinking. I was normally a counter puncher which is the essence of Okinawan Karate. I decided to rely on the basics and stick to what I knew best. I slowly walked forward and intentionally lowered my hands six inches. I wanted Jose to think I was a bit tired and thus lazy. I knew he would try to seize the opportunity to try a high kick which was what I wanted. I had baited many Tae Kwon Do fighters into this trap. What I knew was mathematics. By the time his kick would travel from the floor to my head which was six feet, I could easily throw a front leg snap kick to his groin which was only three feet off the ground. Easy mathematics, right? While I was calculating math Jose was thinking Isaac Newton. I had assumed incorrectly that the speed of our kicks would be equal, and I had not taken into account Jose’s newly acquired speed and his acceleration(Newtons second Law) was more than twice the speed of my kick. One split second before my kick landed, his kick landed on the side of my other ear. 

At this point I knew two things. One…Jose had won the fight. Two…my right ear would be ringing in unison with my left ear until I went to sleep tonight. The referee yelled MATE and we both stood at opposite sides of the referee. He awarded Jose two points for the kick and raised his hand as champion. We both bowed to each other and gave each other the obligatory hug at the end of a match. He walked off the mat to the open arms of his smiling wife and gave his two boys high fives and they jumped up and down. 

I walked to the boy’s gymnasium locker room and sat down on a bench. Jose came in a few minutes later. I thought it was classy that he let his family have the trophy and he did not bring it into the locker room. As we sat there in silence a few minutes I turned to Jose and said, “You hit like my mother.” Exuding pride Jose stood up and said, “What the hell does that mean.” When I stood up and faced him, I said, “I’m sorry Jose, first off, great fight. I can see you’ve been practicing that kick.” Jose said “Yeah, 200 times, three night a week.” 

I said, “You do hit like my mom. When I was growing up and I was acting a fool my 5-foot mom would come close to me and boom, she would reach down, grab the shoe off her foot and whack me with it before I knew what happened. Even when I knew that was her move, I never could stop it. Your new kick is as quick as my mom’s move. That’s what I meant.” Jose looked at me for a few seconds and then smiled and said, “I have a mom like that too. High heels were the worst” We both smiled and sat down next to each other, our shoulders touching. 

“Where do you think they learn that from?” said Jose. I sighed, “I don’t know but I want to go study at that dojo.” We both laughed. Jose said, “We’re going to the Burger King in town, you want to meet us there, I’ll buy? “Nah’, I said, “I want to get home, I have to get up early tomorrow.” “Fair enough” Jose said and we both got dressed. Before we left the locker room I said, “Jose…on the way home wear that Burger King crown. It will give your kids a memory.” “Will do,”said Jose. He walked out of the locker room to his proud family, and I got in my cold car and drove home.

We fought again in three weeks in some tiny gymnasium in the western suburbs. I lost a close one again, but I had a friend video tape the fight which I watched over and over again. Bam…there it was. I found Jose’s tell. Right before he threw that laser beam rocket leg kick, his front hand dropped two inches. Every single time without exception. The next time we fought, his tell rang true. By now, I had perfected the counter punch to that kick. I won that fight 5-3. After that, I never lost to him again. For the record I beat Jose nine times, and he beat me four times. After our 6th fight, he asked me how I knew his kick was coming? He said,“It was as if you were reading my mind.” I told him, “I’ll tell you after the fighting season was over.” That year I won the Illinois Karate Championships. Jose, of course took second place. After the awards ceremony and I had the championship ring on my finger I told Jose about his tell of lowering his front hand a few inches before he threw his kick. Jose smiled and vowed he would fix that tell, which I am sure he did. 

We never fought or saw each other again. 

   When my daughter was 7 years old, she used to love to go to the park. I took her to Rosedale Park in Chicago. I was a Rosedale Boy growing up and it was time she saw dads old stomping grounds. I let her run loose in the playground while I took my seat on a bench and took out a book of Poems to read. Ahhhh…. Charles Bukowski. “A Poem to my Daughter”, seemed like an appropriate poem to read at this time. 

As I read, I would occasionally glance up to see what apparatus she was exploring. Wow, what a great line of poetry, “She is a waving flower in the wind and the dead center of my heart.” After about 20 minutes my glance drew me to the 8-foot slide. She was halfway up the stairs when I noticed a boy a few years older than her had positioned himself at the bottom of the slide to impede her journey down the slide. A power play for sure. When MY daughter ascended the stairs and looked down, she could see he was not moving. If fact he had crossed his arms to concrete the fact that he was there to stay. My daughter looked over to me to see if I had evaluated the scene. 

At this point I knew it was a teachable moment in her life. If I came over to politely or not politely ask the boy to move, I would have taught my daughter that when she has a problem, she would need to find someone who can solve the problem. This moment could sow the seeds of codependency. I decided now was not the time for gardening, so I looked down at my book. My peripheral vision was still fixed on this upcoming trial. 

She stared at me a few more seconds, then down at the boy, then at me and finally she stared at the boy. It was as if I could see her thought bubbles floating then disappearing above her head. In a quick instant she threw her legs forward and off she went down the slide. At this point a childhood crash was imminent. Her straight legs supported her gym shoes as she slammed into the boy’s pelvis. He fell backwards onto his backside in disbelief. She stood next to him for a moment as they locked their eyes. He got up, dusted himself off and walked away. My daughter had the prettiest little pirate smile as she once again climbed the slide. My beautiful daughter now had a bouquet of flowers as she danced in the center of my proud heart.

  Do not be fooled by my nonchalant way I talk about how to walk away from an injurious and unhealthy relationship.

I learned this wisdom mostly by laying on the floor crying, kicking and screaming.

I had to do that until my pain gave me calluses on my exhausted and depleted heart.

I will not deter or rob you of the floor exercises you must do in order

to attain your own wisdom, the same wisdom I now sometimes take for granted.