Saturday, August 9, 2008

Don't Let Anyone Sit on Your Head



Today's Sneakerdoodle Zebra Judo points out what apparently is not so obvious to many people in judo, i.e., it is preferable NOT to allow people to sit on your head.

Julia was not terribly helpful in this week's video. In fact, she insisted on watching the movie, Annie, until late at night and, as a result, we did not have the video posted on Thursday but, rather, two days later.

I apologize to anyone whose quality of life has been negatively impacted by this delay.

I leave for Beijing in the morning. Having been a partner in a consulting company for many years, this is my first actual paid vacation in a long time. You don't go to work and they direct deposit money into your bank account. What a concept! Whoever came up with this, I am all in favor.

Watching Julia at the conditioning practice in the park this morning, while Ronda is in Beijing about 72 hours from competition, a thought crossed my mind,

"I don't know how it will all end, but this is how it begins."

Julia was whining and crying because it was hot, Tony had made them run a half-mile to the park, run ten wind sprints, do about 80 push-ups and then do some football running drill. She wanted to give up and walk back, but Tony and I both yelled at her and she ran the half-mile back. After lunch, we had another three-hour workout when she was crying again by the end of it, apparently just for the exercise because she wasn't hurt and there was nothing wrong with her.

Julia is almost the age at which Ronda started judo and I see a lot of similarities. She has lost her baby fat and is starting to get some real muscles. She gets frustrated and cries when she can't throw people. She gets mad when she cannot get techniques to work. And she really enjoys hanging out with her friends from judo and eating junk food of which I disapprove.

I have been feeling nervous for the past few days, but I felt a lot less nervous after today's practices. Part of it, of course, is getting a chance to work out and just work out some of that nervous energy. Another part, though, was looking around at people like Gary and Tony who were there when Ronda was ten years old, and realizing that we - all of us at home, the Pedros - have done our best for her, and she has done her best back. She is ready.

"I don't know how it will all end, but this is how it started."

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Sometimes I Listen to Myself Talk


A few nights ago, I was out with some friends and in passing, a young man was mentioned who had great potential. I said it was too bad that his talent was most likely going to go to waste, just like a thousand others I had seen over the years. Two of the people at dinner asked,
"What do you think he needs to do that he's not doing?"

(It didn't dawn on me until later that he was from their club. This is the part where it becomes obvious that tact was not a required course in any graduate school that I attended.)
I answered,
"He needs to quit believing his own press. He needs to realize what a huge gap there is between being third in the U.S. national championships and winning the Olympics."


Later, thinking about what I had said, I wondered why that was the first thing that came to mind, that he needed to think differently. Why didn't I mention some specific judo techniques or drills? It's very likely that is the sort of answer they were expecting, e.g., he needs to do more uchikomis, more throws, lift weights three times a week. In fact, thinking about it now, I can think of some definite suggestions for improvement, for example, that I have only seen him do two matwork moves consistently, and both of those occur from the same position, when the person is on all fours and he is on top of them.

So why is thinking differently the first thing that comes to mind that all of those people - and there really have been so many of them over the years - who had far more talent than was ever realized? Am I really turning into one of those useless old people who when you ask them for advice, instead of saying, "Get an inside grip and control the left shoulder by grabbing the lapel three inches higher," gives fuzzy, mountain-top-sitting guru platitudes like, "Always remember that no one has the right to beat you."

Yep. Probably. Most definitely. Except .... (gasp for stunning revelation here)... maybe those old fossils had a point, and I just figured out what it is.

Speaking of old fossils, Jim Pedro, Sr. has a saying he repeats all of the time,
"Sport emulates life."

I believe it is true in judo and in life in general that if you change your way of thinking, the rest of the changes follow from that.

It's like this ... when I realized at 19 that winning the U.S. Open just meant that I was a pretty good judo player and there were still people out there that I did not know how to beat, it never occurred to me to just do more of what I had been doing. I moved away, started going to training camps, went to stay with people like my friends Steve and Becky Scott in Kansas City and we would spend weekends thinking about judo, talking about judo, trying throws, trying matwork combinations, trying to figure out what would work for us and what wouldn't.

When I decided to win the world championships, not just "do my best", or "try not to embarrass us too badly and if you fight the Japanese, try to last at least three minutes" - I changed how I did judo all over again. I started going to Tenri every weekend, doing five practices on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, another four the rest of the week. My judo did not just change in quantity, but in quality.

To move from being a success on the national level to being a success on the world stage, I think you need two things. First, you need to see the distance you must cover to bridge that gap. Second, you need to take the steps to do it. The one follows from the other. The main failing I have seen in most of those people with great potential who never made it was they never could check their ego at the door of the dojo. Now, it can truthfully be said that I have a high opinion of myself. Yet, I always actively sought out people who could kick my a$$, not just on a two or three week trip to Japan, and not just going with some three-hundred-pound seven-foot guy, but people who were close to my size and just better than me, whether they were visiting or if they were at the dojo down the street.

Think about this - why will people spend thousands of dollars to fly to Korea or Japan to train for a month with people who can throw them, but not drive twenty miles on the day their club doesn't have practice to a club where someone can give them a good fight? Instead, they go to clubs where there is a "gentleman's agreement" not to fight too hard, not to "cheapshot" anybody by going straight into matwork from standing (not sure how that is a cheap shot since they allow it in tournaments), not to rough anybody up.

I knew I had to push myself to be best in the world, and if that meant that Steve Seck threw me 10 times during a five minute round of randori or that Neil rubbed my face into the mat trying to turn me over during matwork after I had just armbarred him, then so be it. My goal was to win, not to impress the people sitting on the benches in the dojo watching practice. I knew I could not afford the luxury of worrying about them, because I could see how long and steep the road was in front of me.

++++++++ Judo Tip of the Day +++++++++
My first senior national, U.S. Open and collegiate national gold medals were all at 48 kg. Top players in the lightweight divisions either have to have blistering speed or be able to slow down those people who do. If you are fast, but not best-in-the-world fast, you need to compensate by having an advantage in physical strength and conditioning. Greater strength allows you to crunch down and hold those little human pinball people in place so they can't whip off a seoi nage and dump you. Sometimes those players are overconfident on their speed and they don't have all of the endurance, or maybe it is just a genetic factor, kind of like Cheetahs, which are the fastest animal on earth - for short bursts of speed. If you can hold them to the fourth minute of the match or into overtime, they have nothing left. Make sure that you have a lot left. I ran track in college and I was definitely not a sprinter. Some days at practice we would do 20 100 yard dashes, I believe the rationale for this was the coach hated us. The sprinters would finish 10 yards ahead of me on the first 100. By the tenth one, I was even and by the 20th, they were ten yards behind me.

One good way to run down the clock on those Speedy Gonzales players is in matwork. This is good in general because speed does not generally provide as much of an advantage in matwork as standing, and it is also a good way to grind an opponent down. If they are on the bottom, make sure all of your weight is on them, even if they are on all fours or flat on their stomach.

If you are on the bottom, make sure you have them tied up. Think leeches. (If for some reason totally beyond me you would like to actually buy real leeches, like to suck your blood or something,you can purchase them here) .

You also need to learn to use gripping to lock down and block out those people who are faster so they can't pop in with a seoi nage or tai otoshi. This current MTV generation acts as if they invented gripping and grip-fighting. I must admit that they are more scientific about teaching and studying grips than most competitors I knew when I was younger, however, it is definitely not a new concept. One of the tactics I used, as did other people like me who had strength as more of an asset than speed, was to get a high grip on the collar and drop my forearm down on the person's chest, to make it easier to block when they came in.

If you really are strong enough, another option is just to move up a weight division, which is what I finally did, in fact, I moved up two divisions. The competitors weren't as fast, I was still stronger than almost everybody and it had the advantage of being able to eat a much greater quantity of Haagen Dazs chocolate chocolate chip and Baskin-Robbins peanut butter and chocolate ice cream. Hey, sport, like life, is all about balance.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Isao Wada: A Judo Life

You know that when the truth is told,
You can get what you want or you can just get old.


Hundreds of people came to Isao Wada's funeral yesterday. Tony Mojica talked about how Sensei Wada encouraged him as a teenager at his first senior nationals. Roger Yamashiro and Mickey Matsumoto talked about how Isao had tolerated their misbehavior as boys and helped guide them into men who were pillars of the community.

Isao was a leader in many ways. I remember going to Gardena years ago and asking if it was okay if I worked out. He said, "Yes, yes, of course!"

For many years, it wasn't "of course". Maybe if you grew up in judo and were Japanese or Japanese-American you don't realize how unwelcome people like me and my friends Jake Flores and Blinky Elizalde were often made to feel. We were NOT welcome. Occasionally people told us that to our faces, but more often it was the "forgetting" to tell us about tournaments or yudanshakai (black belt association) meetings, the being turned down for promotion "because your paperwork wasn't typed", the invitations other people got to come work out that didn't include us, and sometimes, the people who just tried to beat us into the mat until we would go away.

I know that there were bad things that happened to people of Isao's generation, that they were often discriminated against, many of them were sent to concentration camps far from home, and lost everything they owned. After the war, there was a lot of discrimination, too. Maybe if I had been that age and had that experience I would have been bitter and distrustful toward people who weren't "like me". Growing up, I heard behind my back, and sometimes to my face, "Judo is a Japanese sport. What is she doing here? Why doesn't she just go home?"

Isao was different and he told everyone they were welcome, and he did treat it like, "Of course, everyone is welcome to train at Gardena Dojo. This is a judo dojo." He was too polite to add, "Are you stupid or what?"

Not everyone agreed with him and I admired immensely his effortless ability to stand for what he believed in without fanfare. He was right and he knew it. Everyone else knew it, too, and if they disagreed, they went along because Isao had a tremendous amount of moral authority.

Anyone who knows me can attest that I do not suffer fools gladly. If someone is petty, mean or unethical, I will stand up to them and in no uncertain words.

Isao was different. He said things simply and he made you listen. At a Nanka meeting when I was MUCH younger, someone brought up the fact that a good bit of the development budget of the local black belt association went to "a girl".

Isao stood up and said, "So what? She's winning." He didn't add, "Are you stupid or what?" but after that, everyone felt stupid.

I wasn't any more special than anyone else. Isao ALWAYS stood up for what he thought was right and did it simply, matter-of-factly. It was because of that so many people had so much respect for him. He had a good uchimata, and he knew more about judo than the great majority of people. He knew more about being a good person and building a community than anyone I ever met.

When I was younger, he was one of the very few people who, if he told me to sit down and shut up, I sat down and shut up. To the day he died, everyone was like that around him. It wasn't because he could beat us up, it wasn't because of what he would do TO us if we didn't. It was because of what he had already done for us, as a role model, as a teacher, as someone who supported and nurtured Gardena Judo Club to be there, open to everybody, "of course".

I do understand some of those who resent people like me and Jake and Tony. We will never have a judo club exactly like Isao and we will never be a senseis like him. Isao embodied a kind of Japanese judo culture that was very wonderful. As the old senseis die, that is slipping away, both in the U.S. and around the world, including in Japan and that is really sad. In the 73 years of Sensei Wada's life, judo changed, society changed and yet he held fast to some of the basic tenets - give back to the community, be a good person. As I looked around the church, I saw more people I sincerely admire than I think I will ever see again in one place. I saw friends I had made as a child and known nearly all my life. I also saw some bitter old men who still look at me like something the cat drug in.

You can't turn back time. I will never be a sensei like Isao. I'll never be that good. I will never have his calmness, I'll probably always swear at people who I think are morons and yell when I think someone did something wrong. I doubt I'll ever get invited to be a deacon in any church. So, did I learn nothing?

Henry David Thoreau said,

Aim above morality. Be not simply good; be good for something.


Yeah, I can do that. I think Thoreau would have liked Sensei Wada. Who knows? Maybe now they are hanging out together.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

It's all about the "want-to"


If some of this is repetition of stories I have told you before, well, what do you expect? I have known you 21 years- how many worthwhile stories do you think I have? If it wasn't for recycling, I would run out.

So, hey Pumpkin -
Sorry I missed your call. We were at the Getty and then we went to mass and lit candles for you. Father Mike said he will send you an email before you fight.

As I was saying, before old age kicked in and I went to sleep ....

There are four things that determine who wins a judo match and the most important of them is who wants it the most. You might think that everyone really, really badly wants to win the Olympics, but that is not exactly true.

There is a difference between wishing for something and desiring that thing with all your heart. In Spanish, there are even different words, "Yo quiero" means I want but "Yo deseo" is more like you have to have it. Neither is the same as liking something "Me gusta" or loving someone "Te amo".

Wanting to win ranges kind of like that. There are people who like to win. Most of them don't make it to the Olympics. Those are the people who would like to win if it wasn't too much work and who go to practice and train hard except on Fridays when there are good parties, days it rains and the traffic is really bad, when they have a cold or their cousin's brother's aunt's nephew is getting baptized. Those people would really like to win the Olympics but you know that part about how it is 90% mental? Well, mentally, those people know they have not paid the price to win. Even if they don't admit it consciously to themselves.

There are people who want to win. They may even move across country like you did, however, they make their choices in a different way. Remember two years ago when you were deciding where you should move to train for this Olympics? You were calling everyone to find out what they thought about where they trained, turning it all over in your mind and you said,
"Well, I have a lot of friends in this place, I could be happy there, the weather is nice. I get along with this coach, and they would help me with funding in this place...."

And I stopped you and said,
"Which place would make your judo get better and give you the best chance of winning the Olympics?"

Without hesitation, you said,
"Pedro's."

And I told you,

"Well, it seems like you just made your decision."

Within two weeks, you had shipped your stuff to Boston.

I can guarantee you that not everyone makes their decision that way. A lot of people want to win but they make trade-offs with where their friends are, if the coach is nice to them, if they can get a free place to live there, etc. I know this because I have had dozens of conversations with up-and-coming judo players beginning long before you were born. When someone moves some place "for judo" because they "want to win the Olympics" but their choice includes all of those other factors, then I feel sad for them because I know their chances of winning are limited.

Some people really love to win and hate to lose. Those are the people who are at practice every day. They go every round. They move to the place that they truly believe will help them win. They make a lot of sacrifices, maybe delaying school or marriage, forgoing promotions at work. Those people are good and they win a lot. A lot of them make Olympic teams.

For the people who really want to, though, it is different, and I think only those people understand this. Winning is a need. It is that voice inside you that when you are behind in a match, when you are fighting someone who is technically better than you or is stronger than you, that just screams, "NO!" I like the French term, je ne sais quoi - I don't know what. It's something you can't describe but it makes one person stand out as different.

I always thought I really, really wanted to win. When I gave birth to Maria, I had some red marks on my arms and chest. I asked the doctor about it and he said that sometimes when a woman is in labor she is pushing so hard that the effort actually burst capillaries. This was an epiphany for me because I had been competing for years and never experienced that after a tournament even though I thought I had been doing absolutely the most that I could. It dawned on me that hey, if I could give birth, I could probably fight on an injured knee and in general do a whole lot more than I had thought possible. I did snap one of the ligaments in my knee in a final match the next year, kept fighting and won the match. Two years later, in the finals in the Austrian Open, I pinned the woman so tightly, when I came off the mat and took my gi off, I could see little red lines on my biceps from where I had actually burst the blood vessels in my arms.

A while after the world championships, about the time your dad and I got married, he said to me,
"You know, I was a little worried, because you only talked about winning. You didn't have a Plan B. I don't know what you would have done if you hadn't won."
I told him,
"Yeah, I didn't know what I would have done if I hadn't won, either."

It's all about wanting it so that it is the first thing that goes through your mind when your eyes pop open in the morning and the last thought in your head before you go to sleep. It is the wanting to win so bad that you almost feel like you'll go crazy sometimes. It is that completely illogical thing, the saying,
"A champion is someone who gets up even when he can't."
that makes absolutely perfect sense even though it doesn't. It is being stronger, tougher and faster than it is possible for you to be.

It is like the Sioux back in the old days, Erich told me, who would take a rifle and go out to battle saying,

"It's a good day to die."

I told Erich once,
"You know, not all Indians are Sioux,"
and he said,

"No, but they all want to be."


I don't know what it is, but whatever it is, you've got it, babe, in spades. I can tell it by that look on your face that says,
"That's my medal, b===, and you're not going to take it away from me."


You will win because that's so much of who you are. It's what you do.
See you soon.
Love you much,
Mom

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Advice to my little pumpkin


It's been a long road to the top of the world, a lot of years since you were doing kata guruma in the hallway with your cousin, Mitchell. Now, there you are at the Olympics again.

I know you're not always the fastest to read your email, since there is usually something in it you don't want to do, like send in your USADA forms or mail bills. So, I thought I would post some of my maternal advice on my blog, since I know you read that. (Aaah! Cannot escape motherly comments, even on the Internet! Below is a stick figure of you running away with your arms up in the air screaming.)

\O/
/
!\

My little Pumpkin ...
RUN! Jimmy said run two miles every day and he said that Bobby Lee is there as your training partner and he’d better get out there and run two miles with you and take all the falls for you that you need and if Bobby comes back fat Jim will know that he didn’t do it, and he’ll make him wish that he had.

Okay, now that is out of the way. No one is neutral about you being at the Olympics. Some people are nervous, some are excited and there are no doubt some jerks out there who wish you’ll get thrown on your head in your first match and break your neck.

Time for some motherly advice….

Four things determine who wins any match, technical ability, physical ability, luck and how badly you want it. Out of those, I think luck is by far the least important and the ‘want-to’ is the most. Technical ability is usually pretty much of a constant (yes, I do teach statistics). At the six-year-old level, most kids can do one throw half-ass without falling over, in the ten-year-old division, they can keep their balance but seldom think of a combination and at your level everyone is aware of gripping strategies, leg picks, sankaku and matwork combinations. You’re not going to go into uchimata and catch Ueno with it just because she will be stunned thinking
“Gee, what is that throw where the leg goes between your legs? I have never seen that before. I must study that when I go back to Japan.”


Notice I didn't say you couldn't throw her, I am just saying the reason you can throw her isn't because you know techniques she doesn't know.

You will win because you have trained to get technically better for the last ten years. You have never accepted that you are good enough to stop improving, you have gone from Montreal to Boston to Japan to Europe working on getting technically better and better. You haven’t just taken what your instructors said and tried to be a clone of Jimmy, Jr. or AnnMaria or Israel. You have taken from people all around the world, kept what suited you and discarded what didn’t. You have created a technical style and repertoire that is uniquely your own, fit to you and therefore greater than the sum of all of the parts. Technically, you have everything you need to win. You have it because you wanted to win badly enough to get it. The "want-to" comes on long before the day you actually fight.

The second thing you need is physical ability. You were just blessed by God that you have the physical ability you need for judo. Judo requires strength and endurance. You have both. You were born with the perfect body type for judo, but you also poured hours and hours into weight-lifting. If either of them had trained like you, Maria or Jenn would just be a shorter version of you. Or, I guess, since they are older, you would just be a taller version of them. The difference is that you trained the way you did because you wanted to win the Olympics, where they wanted different things out of life.

Physically, there is no one in that division who is better prepared than you. I guarantee it. (Oh, did I mention that Jimmy said to remind you to go out and run two miles every day and that Bobby sure as hell better go with you if you need him to, even if it is at 2 a.m. )

Luck - yes, there is the luck of the draw, getting the person in the second round whose style just makes it easier (or harder) for you to beat. Having that person beat someone who is a weird style for you to fight first round. There is the bad luck of getting injured or catching the flu the day before the tournament. There is just making a mistake, crossing your feet and getting slammed for ippon when you are off balance. To a great extent, though, I believe that people make their own luck. You and I both know that there are people in Beijing right now that there is no conceivable draw or scenario that ends with them getting a medal. The only possibilities fall into the Alien-spaceship-drops-into-Olympic-compound-competitors-eaten-by-aliens category. You can fight sick or injured. That's why we made you fight in the Panamerican championships with a torn cartilage and in the European camps after you had mono. You came out of it with two medals. You can fight through sickness and injury if you want to bad enough. Even if you make a mistake, you can come back from it and still win, like that time at the Panamerican team competition where the Columbian caught you for waza ari and pinned you and you got out of it and threw her for ippon. You make your luck and most of the things that are completely luck happened long ago - you were born with physical and mental ability instead of some disability that would keep you from competing. You had good coaches all of the way along. You had kind people who donated money (and a great family that put in overtime hours!) to get you the funding you needed to travel. The luck already happened, Pumpkin, and it went your way.

All that is left is the want-to. That is the most important, as I said, and you have that, too, in spades. I'll write more about that tomorrow. It is almost midnight here, we had practice today, and I am tired. Harout got out of one of my pins for the first time. His matwork is getting better. I think there are not very many areas of life where a high school kid can hit somebody's grandmother in the face and everyone says, "Hey, way to go! Good job!"

They are all getting better. It will be great to have you home, not the least because every kid at the training center is tougher,better and has more talent in them than they realize. I am looking forward to having you home to help prove that to them.

Also, read your email because I put some things in there that perhaps aren't to be read by everyone who owns a computer, like about iguanas.

Love you much,

Mom

P.S. If you run out of stuff to read, the July issue of Growing Judo can be downloaded here. Since you complained in your blog one time that you never get to be on the cover of any judo magazine, I put a picture of you on the front cover!

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Judo, death and life

"You'll be bothered from time to time by storms, fog, snow. When you are, think of those who went through it before you, and say to yourself, 'What they could do, I can do.'" - Antoine Saint-Exupery

Sadly, a lot of the people who went before me have passed on, have gone before me in the most metaphysical sense now. Isao Wada passed away this week. Services will be held on Monday at the Gardena Buddhist Church at 7:30 p.m. Wada-sensei was the real deal. With all of those people walking around with inflated ranks who want to be called sensei, he stood out, head and shoulders above. I have never known him to be anything but gracious and dignified, even on the rare occasions that he was angry. He was president of Nanka Yudanshakai and probably on every committee at one time or another. There is a lot of talk of judo politics, about how you "have to understand politics" to explain a lot of unethical behavior. I never knew Sensei Wada to speak a false word. He was the Head Instructor of Gardena Dojo, one of the oldest and largest judo clubs in the country. No matter who you were, no matter what race, gender, whether you were on the Olympic team or visiting from a small club in a small town, you were welcome at Gardena Dojo and he made you feel like it was their honor that you had trained there, rather than the other way around.

People call me a judo leader in the sport, but I have never been like Isao Wada, or Kenso Kiyohiro, who was the head instructor of Venice Dojo, and passed away a few years ago, or John Ogden, of Ogden Dojo, who died last year, or Frank Fullerton, the PJU Sport Director and former president of USJI, who died this month. Every single one of them, when they died there was no one who was anything but sincerely grieved. None of them were perfect - who is - but they were models for all of us in ways to be better people. Both Isao Wada and John Ogden had a terrific uchimata, something I could never do very well. Kenso Kiyohiro had a good seoi nage, which he passed on to his sons, Tracy and Marshall. Frank wasn't a great judo player, but he was a good referee, an honest one and he was a completely by the rules person. On the other hand, if there wasn't a rule specifically forbidding something he would do anything to help you out if you were an American and he thought you could bring home gold medals for the U.S. He was the most patriotic person I ever met.

Not only have many of my mentors and role models in judo passed away, but so have those in other areas of life. My doctoral advisor, my mentor in statistics, Dr. Richard Eyman, was another brilliant and scrupulously honest person. He passed away several years ago. Ironically, the university where he received his Ph.D. is now where I am the senior statistical consultant.

Lots of days, I feel that I am not ready to be the person people turn to. I am happy to have people like Wada, Ogden, Kiyohiro and Fullerton there. When I was young, of course, I thought I knew everything, was ten feet tall, bullet-proof and ready to take over the world. Now, every time we lose one of our elder statesmen and women (like Elizabeth Lee), I think, "Wait a minute! We still need you here."

Isao Wada's life was a lesson for a lot of people. He carried judo, grew judo and embodied judo for many decades. Now the people my age need to stand up to the challenge and try to be better people. It's up to us now. We have to be up to it, because soon, we are all that will be left.

Once a week or so, I teach a class at our Health Sciences Campus. To get to the classroom, I have to pass through the cancer hospital. Each day, I walk outside into another beautiful sunny day in southern California, see daughters escorting their mothers who are leaning on their arms for support, wives pushing their husbands in wheelchairs. So, maybe your child did not win the Junior Olympics, maybe the other coach made a rude remark to you, maybe you're mad at the judo club down the street.

Today would be a good day to get over it. We're alive. What a precious gift that is.

Sneakerdoodle Zebra Judo:Matwork tip, no one's head ever pops off
, the video blog, will be posted tomorrow. The fact that Sensei Wada died was about a billion times more important.

If anyone has an article or photo of Sensei Wada for the August issue of Growing Judo, I would love to receive it. The July issue can be found here
http://judoforum.com/index.php?showtopic=28388

No one's head ever comes off: Matwork tip

SNEAKERDOODLE ZEBRA JUDO

No one's head ever comes off, this important tip for matwork seems to be missed by many people trying to escape from pins.

This week's video blog was filmed a week ago as judo is at camp in Big Bear this week. Next Thursday, Julia has her own idea on belt promotions, so you can check back for that.




P.S. There IS practice tomorrow morning, 10 a.m. and 1 p.m., West Coast Judo Training Center, 123 South First St., La Puente, CA. Show up !


P.P.S. July issue of Growing Judo can be found here
http://judoforum.com/index.php?showtopic=28388