Hank Reinhardt's The Book of the Sword (41 page)

I think this applies more to specific forms of both swordplay and sword fights. Single sword contests, with katana, saber, rapier, and the like, lend themselves more to developing a rhythm than do fights with sword and shield. But the basic concept, that of keeping your opponent off balance, will always apply.

Intimidation is another aspect of the mental game that needs to be addressed. It should be absolutely impossible for anyone to intimidate you. Size, strength, muscles, appearance, reputation—these are merely characteristics, and have nothing to do with the business to be done. The only thing that matters is performance, and that hasn't happened yet. But it is very easy for you to intimidate yourself. No one is perfect, and no one is invincible, but that not only applies to you, it applies to your opponent as well.

I dislike giving personal examples, and I will not go into details on this one, but there was a time I was in a "contest" with a guy much bigger, and stronger. (He was 6 feet 5 inches at 250 pounds, while I was 6 feet and 200 pounds.) He was also younger, and no one expected me to win; in fact, I was advised to run away. He lost, and badly. He was overconfident, and was used to intimidating others. I frankly just didn't care about his age, size or weight. In short, I was not intimidated. Had I been, I would have lost.

Another example is the boxing match between Mike Tyson and Buster Douglas. Tyson could hit like a big mule kicking, and most boxers were scared when they went into the ring with him. I had commented on that several times, and shortly after the fight started I pointed out to my friends also watching, that Douglas simply didn't give a damn and was not scared at all. Douglas knocked him out.

Intimidation and confidence are two sides of the same coin. If you can't handle them properly, it does not mean you will lose, but it does increase the chances of a defeat by half.

Intimidation on your part is something else. If you can intimidate your opponent, do so. Curiously enough, the intimidation can take many forms. I've mentioned earlier a duel reported that took place in the mid-16th century. The challenged party was not particularly anxious to fight this duel, but he agreed. On the day of the duel he showed up with his hair and beard dyed a bright red. It was also stiffened into projecting points all along his head. It must have been a fearsome sight, as his opponent called off the duel and actually refused to fight him. This is a good example of someone intimidating himself. The challenger was still meeting the same person that he had challenged. The hair configuration in no way improved his ability to fight.

You should realize that with a trained fighter, intimidation probably won't work. If it doesn't work on you, why should it work on him? It is my opinion that a calm impassive look is usually the most arresting. Certainly it is better than the glaring, snarling and growling that some use.

In all of the martial arts there are two physical actions that must be honed to a fine degree. No matter the mental state, your individual strength or your conditioning, without a good sense of timing and distance you are not prepared.

Timing is closely related to rhythm in the sense that you can perceive the rhythm and time your strike. Obviously there is a need for physical speed, but even someone with very fast reactions will fail unless the timing is there. Timing is something that must be practiced. Even a natural sense of timing can be improved with steady practice.

Distance is equally important. No matter how fierce the blow, how sudden, or how tricky, if it doesn't land it is worthless. A blow that doesn't land requires more effort to stop and control than a blow that is blocked.

It is also important to make your opponent miss. It is much better to have him miss by a small margin than by a large one. If he misses by a small margin then you are in a good position for a counterattack. However, if you have leapt back and he misses by a large margin, then you have a greater distance to cover to get to him. That requires more time, and it also gives him more time to recover and makes your attack far less likely to succeed.

There is an interesting tale of the old Japanese samurai who was visited by an old friend. The friend inquired as to how his host's young sons were doing in their training. The old samurai stated he would show him. Whereupon he placed a small paper lantern over the door so that it would fall when the door was opened. He closed the door and called for his youngest son. The young man entered, the lantern fell, and quick as lightning he drew his sword and struck. Then in the embarrassed silence he picked up the pieces and bowed to his father. The visitor nodded his approval. The old samurai once again placed another lantern in the same position, closed the door, and called his next son. The older son entered, the lantern fell, the son drew his blade swiftly, then saw the lantern and sheathed the sword, picked up the lantern and handed it to his father. Again the visitor smiled, but this time the smile was broader.

Once again the lantern was set. The eldest son was called for. He entered, the lantern fell, the son reached for his sword, saw the lantern, reached out and caught it, and then presented it to his father. The visiting samurai this time grinned, and commented, "The training goes very well!"

This tale has been told so often that it has become somewhat corny to many who hear it more than once. But if you examine the whole parable, you then see why this is important. Each son has reacted in his own level of maturity and wisdom. Although it is necessary that you be able to react swiftly, there is an even greater need that you know when to react. React inappropriately and you leave yourself open for a counter, react too swiftly, and your speed can be used against you. To bring up football once again: How often do you see a defense that is very fast come roaring off the line, smashing through, only to see the runner taking off in a different direction entirely? Their speed was used against them.

I had this happen on a personal level. I had a friend who really was not interested in any of sort of combat. He cheerfully admitted that he was too slow, and much preferred to be a cook and a lover rather than a warrior. But one day he decided that he wanted to spar with me using dummy knives. I was preparing to teach a class, so I agreed. He was really slow. He made a cut at my stomach. I snapped my arm out to block and counter, only to realize that he was
so
slow that my arm had missed his completely. His arm and hand, with the dummy knife, were still completing the cut. I panicked and was able to suck in my stomach enough so that the cut missed. But I had violated all of the principles that I knew very well. I had underestimated my opponent. He was so slow that my attitude was casual, and I had merely moved fast, without any awareness of where I was going to end up.

A thorough study of the various written works on fighting with the sword will show an interesting dichotomy between the East and the West. Now, I have not read
all
of the available manuals dealing with swords that have recently been translated and printed. There are a surprisingly large number of them, written in many European languages. By and large these manuals deal with various attacks, counterattacks, footwork, parrying and all of the usual things that you might expect to find in a book on swordplay. One thing none of those that I have read have addressed is the mentality of combat, either real or play. They deal strictly with the physical aspects of swordplay, and often the advice given is stated in such a way as to be somewhat confusing or ambiguous. There may be a motive behind this, which we will deal with later.

In the past several years these many European "
fechtbuchs
" have been translated and have been made available to those interested. I have read only a few of them and plan on reading more. However, I have a healthy skepticism regarding most of these books. Any manual that has you holding and using a sword so that the sharp point is directed at you causes me to twinge. This is true with knives as well. (As a side note: Most European manuals dealing with knives show the daggers with an ice-pick grip. This makes sense when your opponent is wearing fairly heavy clothes, or possibly mail underneath his outer garments, but not otherwise.)

Let me explain my hesitancy in embracing these manuals with wholehearted enthusiasm. First, these books were written several hundred years ago. Language and convention have changed considerably since that time. It is quite possible that comments were not made in the books simply because everyone at that time knew what the author was talking about. It could also be that some things were left out deliberately so as to gain students where these things were explained by personal instruction. Above all, these manuals are not clear in their depiction of movements from one position to another and thus many of the movements are not fully explained.

Reproduction Japanese sword. HRC106.

However, many people today will look at one of these manuals and proceed to state that this is
the
way swords were used at the time of the writing. This is equivalent to reading a modern martial arts manual and drawing the conclusion that this is the way street fights are conducted, from someone who has never been in a street fight. Watching many of these drills and exhibitions taken from the manuals, I will admit that they look pretty good, but a close examination will show that these are well choreographed, and bear as much resemblance to actual combat as do fights in the movies.

What all of these seem to be missing (at least in the ones I have read), is training in the improvisation of attacks. Following a set scenario of moves is a definite invitation to get killed. These things may be used in a fencing match or contest where one is there to demonstrate form and skill, but it has no place in a life or death contest.

There is one thing that is absolutely true, and that is that you cannot learn to fight by merely reading a book. Not boxing, wrestling, any of the Oriental martial arts or swordplay. There has to be some hands-on sparring.

The Japanese manuals that I have read (always in translation) rarely, if ever, deal with any of the physical aspects of swordplay. Instead they deal with the mental side. They stress the development of the mind and the spirit, and to the Westerner, this is rather confusing, as it is stated in terms of Zen and many of the other spiritual concepts. It is sometimes stated that these concepts cannot be properly explained in writing, but require a teacher.

Now, a cynical person might say that this was done in order to encourage individuals to enlist in the school that the writer favored or even taught. I have no doubt that this was true in some cases, but I also feel that many merely wished to share knowledge. It is also true that some things have to be demonstrated and even explained in person. Therefore, it is up to the individual to draw his own conclusions on the works that he might encounter whether they be Western or Eastern.

There is no question that the most difficult manuals to understand are those written in the Far East. There is the real poetic terminology which, when coupled with Zen Buddhism, can present quite a challenge for the Westerner. Terms such as: Moon in the Water, Beating the Grass to Scare the Snake, The Empty Mind or The Stillness of the Placid Pond. These are lovely phrases, and once you understand what is meant, why, they all make sense. But it can require a great deal of effort to learn what is meant, while in the West information is imparted in a much plainer fashion. Here I will attempt to give you my thoughts on this.

I have encountered many variations on what you should watch in any physical contest. Many boxers will tell you to watch their feet, some swordsmen, old and new, will say watch the sword, his hands, his eyes, and when using the katana it is often said to watch his elbows.

Frankly, I don't believe in any of those. As mentioned above, I feel that if you focus on any one subject you can become fixated and you will lose sight of other attacks that may be launched. I much prefer not to focus on anything. This requires practice, but you undergo this in any eye exam where the examiner will tell you to stare directly ahead and then signal when you see a flashing light. This is done to determine your peripheral vision. Now if your attention is focused on the center you will not notice the blinking dot. However, if you merely look at the center, you will see the blinking light.

The fact that I needed glasses was an advantage to me. I didn't see well enough to focus anyway without my glasses. As a result I was able to pick up movement slightly quicker. This is definitely an advantage. This also led to a small but successful tactic. When I noticed someone watching a particular part—shield, sword, eyes, etc.—I could feint with that part, and launch an attack from another angle. Although vision is not a mental attitude, it does require a specific mental effort to keep from concentrating or focusing on what you perceive as the major threat, and is an important aspect of swordplay.