Wednesday, October 28, 2009


This is Egemen. He occasionally splits my lip, bloodies my nose, and leaves me covered in bruises.

It's my fault, though. If I'd just do what he tells me to do, he wouldn't have to hit me. He doesn't want to hurt me, but if he has to, he will--because he loves me.

Getting whacked in the nose conveys the message "Keep your guard up" rather more effectively than just saying it a dozen times. The logic of that advice just suddenly becomes real clear.

I bloodied his lip once, too. It was a lucky shot. I told him that I felt really bad about it, but actually I was damned proud of myself.

Note to Ozan, if you're reading: I agree that "sports and arts that improve your conditioning and balance, ensure you get manhandled and hit very hard in training and competition, and include ungraceful all-out struggles with opponents of any and all relative skill and size differences will train your gross motor skills and positional instincts much better than eye-gouge katas could."

But if you think Wing Tzun isn't such a sport, you haven't trained with Egemen.

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