Quote of the week

"You look knackered." said the fencer to the coach after a 15 hit fight..
"Ah yes, but it's a good knackered" replied the Coach....

Eyes everywhere

I have talked on previous posts about the state of "aware mind" that some expert martial artists develop after years of training. Well, it occurred to me in the salle yesterday that coaches need to develop it too. We were in a rather crowded hall due to our regular venue being unavailable and I spent a lot of my time making sure no one hurt themselves. It's amazing how people seem to totally disregard matters of safety if a coach is present. Foils with no buttons, strange bends in the blade, chairs in the way, crossing pistes without looking, parents coming in, fencers sitting in the way behind other fencers in a match etc. It's no wonder that coaches have to develop eyes in the back of their heads! Thankfully not all fencers are like this but it does put an extra load of responsibility on the coaches shoulders but after as many years in the job as me you kind of get used to it...!

Coaches are human too ... mostly

Haven't got anything specific to write about today so thought I'd give you an insight into a typical fencing Wednesday.
1500 hrs: Get a few spare moments at work to think about what I'm going to teach this evening. I'm not the world's greatest planner and have to take into account how many people might turn up which means I have to be reasonably flexible. But I guess this shows at least I'm not always making it up as I go along! Then it's back to work. This afternoon is spent on providing people's appraisal feedback and advising some of my team on the best way to get their work done. Pretty high energy output from me that leaves me a little strung out by the time I head home at...
1710 hrs: Jump in the car and head home for tea.
1915 hrs: Get changed for fencing. If I was a Kendoka (Someone who practices kendo) I would have an extremely complex ritual around putting my fencing kit on. In this case, it's more a case of remembering to put my breeches on under my tracksuit trousers and keeping my socks pulled up. The hardest sartorial decision is whether I need both my fleece and club rugby shirt. It's hot - I don't.
1930 hrs: Drive to the UEA where the club is held. Turn the stereo up and rehearse the lesson in my mind.
1945 hrs: Get to the club to find one of my class has arrived so far. Hmmm, not looking good. Do my usual stretching routine whilst the class warms up.
1955 hrs. Two more of my class have arrived so at least there'll be three plus me and I can do a group lesson. No-one seems to want to talk to me so I grab a few minutes in cross legged relaxing mode. I note that I have sat down squarely on a green line rather than a red line on the sports hall floor. Is this cosmically significant? Spend a few seconds condsidering and decide that, no, it isn't. At least this short period of quiet gives me a chance to dump some of the working day tension from the system though.
2005 hrs: My coach kicks off the mass group foil lesson and we work on inviting an opponent to attack so that you can score with a parry riposte. It's a nice lesson that then progresses onto first counter riposte as a tactical move. The regular Bright Spark in the club mumbles "Not this simple stuff again.." and I avoid the temptation to point out that when he's been fencing for twenty years he might just realise that nothing is simple and that just because you've done something perhaps 50 times does not make you an expert. You may have the breeches mate, but you've got to fill them. All this is outwardly manifested by a slight frown.
2030 hrs: The large class splits up and my group amble over, breathlessly awaiting the pearls of wisdom I am about to lay before them. Well, that's what I like to think! So I talk about the semi-circle in fencing. It's a nice follow on to last week's lesson about circular movements and we review the semi-circular bind from sixte to octave with an attack along the blade as an offensive move and then the parry of octave with both direct and indirect ripostes. I also throw in a revision of the semi-circular parry of seconde where the knuckles roll over to produce a much stronger parry and the riposte is made with a step in (but not a punch). As there are three students that means that someone has to pair up with me. As usual there isn't exactly a mad rush which I do worry about. Do I smell? Do I inspire such awe and respect that no-one wants to partner me? Anyway, my training partner gets excellent value from my individual attention. After a brief break for questions we look at successive parries after a request from one of the group. Nice little subject around octave-quarte and quarte-seconde parries. It's amazing how one simple move can be applied in so many different ways. But how am I going to follow this next week?!? The fencing rhomboid? The tetrahedron of control?!?
2100 hrs. It's time to fence and we decide on a winner stays on format to 7 points. Ben challenges me first so I have to mentally get from coaching mode to fencing mode. Start well and get 3 points on the board but then Ben comes back into it to lead 6-4. Step up a gear and take the match 7-6. It's always difficult to be 100% sure at non-electric fencing but the decisions seemed to be evenly balanced. I win so I stay on and fence Abby.
2109 hrs: Get hit by a brilliant fleche. The Coach in me is most impressed; the competitor in me thinks that I need to get hold of this one. Once again I come from behind to win 7- 5 (I think).
2115 hrs: It's time to take on Stuart a left hander who I have a running friendly rivalry with. Start poorly and go 3-0 down, come back into it and get to 5-4 down. By this time I have got well into the fencing groove and have become engrossed in the fight. The group are quite amused by my occasional shout of triumph at a good hit and mumblings at a bad one. It's not anything that I do deliberately, it just happens spontaneously. I am very pleased with a parry of seconde followed by a riposte to Stuart's flank that just happened instinctively; must be 'in the moment' there I think and by thinking it thereby ruin the moment! Unfortunately I can't quite regain the initiative and Stuart takes a well deserved victory. Once again I have just got into the right frame of mind just as the fighting is over. DOH!
2135 hrs: The evening is over and I bid my group good night until the next time. Have a bit of a chat with Andy my Coach after and we agree that "the winner stays on" is a good format, particularly from a fitness point of view. I do worry slightly that I might be dominating it but I'm not going to start throwing fights to compensate!
2145 hrs: Drive home. It's the mid-summer solstice tomorrow so it's almost still light. Put some BRMC on the stereo and hit the road. The lesson and the fights have left me with a pretty satisfied feeling, sort of relaxed yet aware of everything at the same time. Feel like I could drive for miles with this sky and the music but figure it's time to get home and get ready for another busy day tomorrow!
My favourite hit of the evening? That parry riposte to Stuart's flank. My favourite hit ON me for the evening? Abby's splendidly surprising fleche. Where did that come from?!?
So there you go. My evening from my perspective; it's a funny old world

Fencing and Geometry

Last night I decided to give a lesson around the simple shape of the circle and how it is used in fencing. We discussed it in terms of the engagement, disengagement, counter-disengagement and circular parries. (I even demonstrated the envelopement - although not particularly well I have to say). When discussing the engagement I tried to put across the fact that the circular movement should always be neat and keep the point in line with the target. I reckon the optimum size of a good circular movement should be no wider than a cricket ball, or at most a bowling ball. Beach balls are definitely out! The point I was trying to get across was that the same movement can be used in a number of different ways, both offensively and defensively and that if it can be mastered it can be applied in a number of different ways. When we got into discussing the parry we also started talking about the 'triangle of control' that occurs when the blade is correctly parried into the guard of your foil, giving you the right level of control of your opponent. So there we had a circle and a triangle; if I'd started talking about the defensive square we would have had the full set of Euclidean geometry!
Thinking about this it's easy to see why some of the 17th and 18th century schools of fencing got so into secret geometries and techniques based on mathematics etc. At that point in European history the Renaissance had captured the imagination of the western world and there was a new-found belief that science, mathematics and order were the way to success and a better life. It is no surprise then that arcane theories such as Thibault's mysterious circle started to grip the imagination; surely the new mathematics of universal order would gain the upper hand if applied correctly? In truth the reality of fencing is slightly more chaotic and based upon the ultimate unpredictable system, the human mind. The real mathematical basis of fencing is the time it takes for the brain to interpret, react and trigger the appropriate muscular response. However there are a huge amount of variables in this act. The level of training, age, fitness, experience all play a part in a fencing bout, as does the fencer's personality. Are they aggressive? Are they passive? Do they have a plan? All these factors play a part in the intricate ballet that is a fencing match. So whilst geometry in techniques is fine, there's more too it than that. Is fencing a science or an art? You be the judge!

Presidential Duty

This morning at the salle it was ladder day when everyone engages in mortal combat to increase their standing in the academy rankings. (OK it's not really mortal - although that depends on who you're fighting). I was presiding the A group and then delegated this responsibilty so I could observe the fights whilst judging. It seemed that a lot of the fencers did not enjoy the prospect and task of presiding and it got me wondering as to why this aspect of the sport always seems onerous. I admit that there is pressure on when you are presiding; the two fencers are relying on you to recognise what they are doing and to fairly adjudicate the fight and award points to the correct person. It is quite a responsibility, not least when called upon to make decisions about what happened. Paradoxically (as usual in fencing) presiding a match can also be quite liberating as it is one of the few sports at present where you don't have to make a decision if you're not sure. Imagine you're a referee in a game of football where someone is brought down on the edge of the penalty area (and I'm talking in a situation where there is no assistive technology like replays, third referees etc) and you just don't know if it was in or out of the box. Or a rugby game where you're right on the spot for a try but just can't tell if the ball was grounded or held up and the linesman was unsighted. Imagine the fuss if you turned round and said "Sorry, I haven't a clue let's start afresh"! The incredible thing about being a fencing president is that in certain situations you can say just that. This really bugged me when I first started presiding and in some ways my brain always struggled to give a decision one way or the other. We're just not programmed in sport or our society to not make a decision; there has to be an outcome, an ending, some closure.. You can't just leave it hanging!!
Ah, Grasshopper, but in foil fencing you can. If there have been hits scored by both fencer all the president has to do is decide who had the right of way and award the point (or restart if it was off target) accordingly. If you can't decide then just don't. Bring the fencers back to on guard and start all over. I'd personally prefer to be presided over by a President who has the moral courage to say "I'm sorry I simply can't make a decision there" than one who mentally tosses a coin when he's not certain. The thing with fencing is that it's fast; it's meant to be fast and sometimes the human eye simply can't keep up. You're human Mr President- deal with it!

One thing I do strongly suggest is that you become a President who can string a phrase together though. You must be able to clearly explain your decision and the reasons behind that decision to the fencers. Don't just mumble "no hit, on guard". Clearly tell the fencers what you saw. Bear in mind that they will likely have completely different views of what happened, mostly biased towards themselves! But at least make sure that they understand what you saw and the reasons you have interpreted it that way. Also remember that presiding is not a democratic activity; you are in charge and you make the final decision. The judges don't make it (If you're fencing non-electric) they're just there to tell you what the hit was or even if there was one. The box can't tell you (unless you're severely delusional) and you sure as heck can't rely on the fencers! (Although some are commendably honest as demonstrated by some of my students today). So you need to be the benevolent dictator that holds it all together. It's a dirty job but someone's gotta do it....

The other good thing about presiding is that you get to watch some fights and hone your perception of what goes on within them. It's all good practice in the end.... honest!