Krav Maga with Swords

 

Recently while cycling through the delight that is Aqueduct Park in Rome I came across a bunch of people fighting with swords.

Now, the area they were in is used extensively by keep-fitters exercising and even has it’s own outdoor gym of sorts, comprising pull-up bars, static bikes and various other bits and pieces. I’d seen a lot of people working out in that area before but never like this.

Stopping for a rest after a healthy jaunt along the ruins of what used to be the main supply of fresh water for the Roman Empire, I saw that this was longsword practice (i.e. both hands on the hilt) and the swords were big. One of the instructors saw me watching and came over to say Hi.

During a brief chat he told me that they are ASD Custodes Cervi HEMA Roma, which translates roughly to "Hema Rome Deer Keepers ". They practice a couple of times a week and during the nice weather come to the park to have a go. The moves they were demonstrating at the time involved using your sword hilt to trap your opponent's blade and then move it to one side allowing you to strike with your elbow to their face. I got a phone number and Instagram account of the club and said I’d call them for a “prova” (trial lesson) soon.

About three weeks later I had a free Saturday and took a trip to the gym where the club train (the nice weather now declining, they had moved back inside). About five of use were there, with a couple of latecomers boosting the class, and we got into a warm-up.

Now, having done Krav Maga for about 7 years and also having trained as a Kids, and General, instructor* I know the fundamental importance of a good warm-up. Muscles, bones and sinews do not work well when cold and it is very easy to get hurt if you leap into an intense or even moderate workout before your body had been heated up, stretched and oiled. One way to spot a McDojo** is if the warm-up is brief, non-existent or doesn’t focus on the appropriate areas of the body for the training. The routine we went through here was at least twenty minutes long and I was aching in my inner thighs for three days due to the extensive lunges they had us repeating around the gym floor. I do yoga every day but don’t work that particular bit so felt it big time in the following days. After we were nice and sweaty the instructors then got us to do some moves with the practice swords.

There were two types of sword for training: wooden ones and flashier, sexier metal jobs with crafted hilts. The instructors mainly used the latter to demonstrate, and one or two of the other students had them. I got a wooden one but was grateful to only be wielding that as I had never trained with a sword before, apart from a brief “class” at a comic convention with a Jedi*** offering lightsaber tuition.

The first move was Porta di Donna (Woman's Door) and involved stepping and parrying and the footwork was fundamental. Having learned open/close as part of self-defence training I was able to do this reasonably well and the move started with the sword on your right shoulder and ended at the left.

After repeating that and drilling it for about 15 minutes we moved to the parallel side, where the technique was slightly different  and Denti di Cinghiale (Boar's Teeth) and then to my favourite which was the Porta di Ferro (Iron Door). This move entailed creating a barrier across your groin with the hilt and the blade held horizontally to defend against low attacks. While we were learning this, we got taken out one at a time to practice repetitive striking of the previously learned techniques with one of the instructors.

Finally, to finish off, we had a session of breaking free from a strangle hold without the swords, but in a way that I hadn’t learned previously in Krav or self defence training. The session finished with a salute to the instructors with our weapons. Right, left and forward. Kind of like “kida” but more flamboyant.

I really enjoyed the class and it was refreshing to take part in something as unique as this. The warm-up itself proved that the instructors knew what they were doing and the focus on only 3 techniques with swords and 1 unarmed, showed that the focus was on quality and not quantity.

It was easy to see that these guys knew what they were doing and coming from a Krav Maga background, the best way to describe this was that it was Krav with swords.

It’s only 40 Euros a month to join so I’ll be up for regular training once the Covid-19 restrictions ease off (as I write this we are now in a further extension of the lockdown).

A lot of fun so give it a go if you are in the area. The club train at Swim & Fit gym in Largo Preneste, Rome (near to the Teano Metro stop on line C) and can be contacted via phone on +39 06 331 702 4330. Instagram is @hema_guardiani_del_cervo and on Facebook as ASD Custodes Cervi HEMA Roma.

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* KIC and GIC. The former is 5 days long. I passed. The latter is 24 days long. I completed it but didn't pass.

**McDojo. Club run by a twat who has no skill or teaching ability and just wants your money

*** Jedi. Initially a plot point of a highly successful 1977 sci-fi film Now a religion in its own right.

 

The Girly Conundrum

In Krav Maga there is a lot of hitting. Well, not just hitting, also kicking, elbowing, kneeing and (at G level and up) headbutting. Krav is brutal, direct and efficient. To hell with “honour your aggressor”, the message of Krav is “if you can’t escape an opponent, hurt them until you can”.

I like Krav because, for skinny, non-fighters like me it’s a breath of fresh air after all those ponsey martial arts that promise to teach you how to do a complicated move that will gain you a belt for being able to demonstrate it but has as much use in real life as a condom in a nunnery.

But I digress.

Last week I received an email with an application form for the UK Channel 4 programme “SAS: WHO DARES WINS”. This is a show where about 40 guys are put through a condensed version of special forces training until only a handful remain. Series 3 had two guys win it and it looks to be a right sod from the start. I found out that I’m nearly 3 years over the maximum age limit so can’t apply (44 years 364 days by 25th September 2018, if you’d like to know). 

Once my disappointment abated I re-read the email and saw the following line:

“All roles in the military are now opening up to women. So for the FIRST TIME, SAS: Who Dares Wins will now be accepting applications from EVERYONE who meets the selection criteria”.

This was interesting because it is an ongoing debate that I have with people that women would need to have different roles in Special Forces than guys, mainly due to size and strength and stamina issues but also due to the training needing to deal with overriding the protective instinct that most men have towards women.

To elaborate.

When I was growing up, one of the few things that would make my father lose his shit was if I hit a girl. He was born 4 years prior to World War 2 and was “old school” in his view on who could hit who. Me and my brother both got severely told off and threatened with a smack on the ONE occasion that either of us ever hit a girl without provocation. He was also pragmatic though and pointed out that if a girl started the fight, then hitting back would be meaningless as most people would believe a girl over a boy. 

Years later when I attended university in the north of England in the early 90s, I remember the amount of times we would see a man and a woman we didn’t know arguing, and stand and watch them in case he hit her. On some occasions the woman would be slapping, punching and/ or kicking the guy and we would watch in case he hit her BACK. My mate was a cop and one time in a nightclub his missus went off on one and began slapping him repeatedly in the face in front of everyone. He didn’t retaliate but the bouncers came over, saw what was happening and then walked off again without intervening.

Another time I was waiting for a bus with a friend in Manchester and a couple began having a tiff. She slapped him repeatedly but all he did was restrain her by holding her wrists each time. A group of drunk, opinionated students then rounded the corner and took it upon themselves to assume that she was a victim of abuse. Me and my pal walked over to fill in the blanks and one woman had her arm around the (by now crying) female’s shoulders saying “Come over here with me love, you don’t have to let a man treat you like that”. At no point did the lady claim her boyf/ husband had hit her, she was too busy crying, but they took it as gospel that it had to have happened and ignored all attempts me and my mate made to convince them otherwise.

When I began Krav Maga in Rome in 2010 I was crap at fighting and the hang ups of youth still haunted me. During sparring I’d see guys tap female opponents on the top of the head with their gloves, as if the face was an area forbidden to anyone who wished to call himself a real man. I made a conscious decision to override my previous programming and not patronise a female opponent. I hit equally as hard to women as I did to guys (and remember I’m skinny so the effect wasn’t like The Viper vs. The Mountain from Game of Thrones). This still bugged me as potentially wrong and I could see my father over my shoulder saying “If you ever hit a girl I will hit you SO hard!” My fears were put to rest though, just before I left the club when one of the ladies in the class said to me “I like sparring with you because you don’t hold back, most guys do”.

All fine and dandy.

Then I got to the UK and my confidence increased and while I still had psychological hang ups about fighting I would try to give as good as I got within certain common sense parameters (e.g. you wouldn’t whale on a 17 year old P1). The whole point of sparring was to fight safely and at gradings Jon Bullock (head of KMG UK) would say “You fight to the level of your partner. If I see ANYONE hitting too hard I will fail them on the spot”. 

That lurking voice of my Dad slowly got fainter and fainter and then one day in sparring I was with a woman who had a reputation as a badass. I didn’t go harder on her than the guys in the class (after all, sparring’s not my forte) but I didn’t hold back either. Even though we were fully kitted up in helmets, chest plates, forearm & shin pads (and the requisite groin protection), she eventually dropped her guard, stood with her hands by her sides and said “Fucker! Stop it!” Confused, I spoke to the instructor briefly after who said it was possibly ego due to getting hit and I later saw her talking to him as well. The incident was never brought up again but I found out on the grapevine that she was none too impressed with how hard I’d hit her and a male friend of hers took it as an example of me being an arsehole. Someone who didn’t like fighting but would hit a woman.

And there lies the conundrum. By holding back (which I’ve seen a LOT of people do) a man is patronising a woman. By going EQUALLY as hard as he would on a guy of the same ability, he is potentially perceived as a dick.

I know women in the G levels of Krav who could kick my ass without a second thought. However I know others who I still feel uncomfortable fighting simply because they are women.

In SAS: Who Dares Wins series 3 they had the contestants fight each other. It was boxing only, with 16oz gloves, gum shields and head protection and the instructions “You will not guard, you will not retreat. You hit only to the head. You don’t stop until we tell you to”. Whoever volunteered first got to choose a partner and everyone tried to pick a bloke of the same-ish height and weight, or as close to it as possible. It will be interesting to see series 4 and if they retain this aspect of the show. Seeing men and women knocking 7 bells out of each other would be one indication that we are now accepting of an equality based on your willingness to do something, not on pre-conceived ideas about how people should behave.

In Rome there are gangs of gypsy girls that travel around the underground train network, stealing from tourists. The reason they are all little girls between the ages of about 10 and 13 is simple. Most people don’t like aggression. Most men don’t like hitting women and hardly ANYONE would ever consider hitting a child. The one time I saw them I told them to fuck off (in Italian) and the reaction was shock. They are employed by shrewd and cold people who know that 95% of the time no one will dare stand up to them, let alone touch them due to their status as both children and girls. A guy who caught one of them stealing his wallet, simply lifted her up by her collar and pulled the handle on the train. The cop who attended said “You can’t touch her and you can’t pull the handle for THAT!” Turned out the cop was lying as you CAN detain anyone you catch like this BUT it’s a nightmare of paperwork so the cops won’t usually touch it with a bargepole.

One thing that I have always found funny is when guys go too easy on a female opponent (and I don’t mean “fighting to the ability of your partner” but being a condescending shite) and then get their asses handed to them on a plate. Conversely, a friend of mine is ex army, a dad to two girls aged 16 and 8, and during his P3 grading was partnered with a woman who carried on punching him in the face after the examiners had called a halt. She was sitting on his chest at the time and, after the third time she punched him, he headbutted her in the face and busted her nose. He wasn’t judged for this as he was responding reasonably to excess and unjustified use of force but, when he told me this story, there was still that little voice in the back of my head going “He hit a girly. He’s horrid!”

During a pressure drill a few years back I had my eyes closed, felt the tap on my shoulder and when I opened my eyes saw a 15 year old female practitioner coming at me with a plastic knife. I swatted her hand away, moved off line in the appropriate body defence and then went to kick her in the groin…only to see she wasn’t wearing any protection. I managed to ease off the force of the kick but still made contact. After a very short pause I went “Are you OK?” She nodded. “Seriously, wear a sodding box. I need therapy now!” Being a man (and also a teacher, to kids her age) it was beyond traumatising for me to boot a teenage girl in the vagina. I would have felt guilty but LESS guilty had it been a 15 year old boy.  

So the Girly Conundrum is something that I find still exists in many aspects. Usually it’s the guy’s perceptions of what he thinks he should do that cause this. However, you can and do see women being aggressive as hell in YouTube videos and then acting like a frail, vulnerable female when a guy retaliates. My favourite example of this was Nicola Fischer who at riots in London a few years ago, assaulted a police officer by throwing liquid in his face (after being told twice to back off by said officer who she was screaming and yelling obscenities at). He hit her ONCE with his baton  on the leg after she assaulted him and she got £10,000 of Max Clifford for her ‘story’ where she was, in quiet, subdued tones, showing the cameras the nasty bruise on her leg where the nasty policeman had hit her. The icing on the cake was when she said “That policeman could have asked me politely to move, or even picked me up and moved me”. The cop was charged with assault but acquitted at trial. I’ve no doubt whatsoever that nobody would have cared if the person was called Nicholas Fischer.

As we move into an age where gender (or even transgender) integration is more and more the norm I’d like to feel comfortable when sparring with ANYBODY. And let’s not forget that embarrassment that arises when the warm up includes the “try and pinch the T-shirt” drill. I usually say “I’ll tap your shoulder” and do that unless given permission to go for the front. During GIC 2 in Melbourne, I was partnered with the one and only female candidate and had to hold her in a grip that required putting my hands over her chest. I adjusted my grip to avoid this and the examiner  saw this, came over and said “She needs to learn as well as you, hold her properly please”. After he’d gone again the woman assured me “You’re not holding my breasts, you’re above them, it’s OK”.

Nobody had ever told me to behave like this, and the higher you go in Krav the less of this type of reluctant, embarrassed faffing about you will witness. G level and E level Krav fighters know they have to play on an even field. However…there is a whole load of societal programming that leads me to feel uncomfortable in situations like this. The little voices telling me that hitting girlies is wrong or that a technique involving contact with breasts is best avoided. And let’s not forget the utter horror of the first time we kick a woman between the legs (even if she has a box on).

The Girly Conundrum. I intend to conquer this before my next grading. And I hope my partner is a woman.

Latest Krav Maga book. OUT NOW. Ruck & Roll.

My latest book.

Available in paperback and on Amazon Kindle.

Sequel to 2105's WALK IN PIECES.

For Want Of A Nail

For about 8 years now, on and off, I’ve been a practitioner of Krav Maga. I have taken a total of 8 gradings, hold the rank of P5 and have trained in Italy, the UK, Greece, Australia, New Zealand, and Israel.

I’ve qualified to teach children Krav under Ze’ev Cohen when I took the Kids Instructor Course.

I have completed the General Instructors Course but haven’t graduated yet.

I’ve met Eyal Yanilov several times and interviewed him for this blog and for KMG UK.

I’ve attended seminars for public transport, aeroplane hijacks, adrenaline and 3rd party protection plus many others.

I’ve cured my lifelong phobia of fighting through sparring on day 11, of part 1 of the GIC**.

I run this blog and have published a book about Krav Maga called “Walk In Pieces”. 

I’ve lost a piece of a tooth on my P4 grading and been personally selected by Eyal Yanilov with 9 other people to fight The Bullet Men at the KMG World Tour 2014. 

Basically…I’ve had a lot of fun doing Krav Maga.

The main things Krav has taught me is that ego is dangerous and what my brother might call “the puffy option” is usually the best one (i.e. walking away from confrontation if you can). I’ve become calmer, more self confident and a lot less paranoid through following this discipline. 

My life since 2016 has involved a lot of backpacking. In August of that year I had what might be called a mid-life crisis and decided to give the cat away, sell the car, put most of my stuff in storage and fulfil my dream of going to Australia & New Zealand. During that time I learned to be careful about my personal space and to keep close attention to where I have my stuff. I ALWAYS carried my passport, money and phone on me in a military style hip pouch that you cannot take from me unless I give it to you or you take it from me by force. 

Now that I’m settled in Rome teaching English I give security a high priority in my life. I share a flat with 2 other guys and my bedroom door has a lock, as does my wardrobe. Before I go out I put all valuables I’m not taking with me into the wardrobe, lock it and then hide the key. I then check the balcony window is secure and lock the bedroom door, hiding that key too. 

I use a bicycle to get about so it has not one, or two but THREE locks. One for the frame, one for the front wheel (one of those awful, quick-release things) and one for the saddle. When I stop to go shopping I strip everything from the bike that could be stolen. 

When cycling I am constantly aware of the traffic and practice what could romantically be called “defensive biking”, i.e. I anticipate drivers and pedestrians acting like idiots and plan accordingly. So far I’ve had no accidents but a fair few near misses.

A couple of months ago I read about the Cooper colour code and adopted it as a way to get by each day. 

Basically I’m someone who’s pretty careful. 

And then, 2 weeks ago, I got my phone snatched at about 2am in central Rome. 

I was walking around using my phone’s GPS to try and find the night bus stop when a guy approached me, grinning broadly and and said “Ciao!” like all he wanted to do was be my bestest pal. My instincts kicked in and I immediately put the phone in the inside pocket of my jacket. 

The bloke walked along next to me and asked casually “Why did you put the phone away?”

I replied “So no one can steal it”.

“They can”, he said and after a few more seconds, he lunged over, stuck his hand in the pocket, grabbed the phone and ran off. 

The reason he got away with this……

I was very, very drunk.

Luckily my wallet and money were in the other pocket so I got the bus home eventually and woke up that morning feeling very sorry for myself. Phone gone, contacts lost, messages too. Only good thing was that I had extremely good security on the phone which means that the thieving toad who took it can’t access the contents. Once the self pity wore off I realised just how lucky I had been. I didn’t get hurt and this wasn’t even a mugging, merely a street robbery with minimal physical contact. The state I was in that night, I would have been no good in fight and losing the phone was a minor inconvenience compared to what could have happened. Only Jackie Chan can fight when he's drunk and still win.

The one and only reason he was able to reach into my jacket and grab the phone was because I hadn’t done up the third button. Believing no one could get in there I’d settled for doing up the first two. I’ve tried quickly darting my hand in that pocket since this incident occurred and 4 times out of 5 I snag my fingers on the jacket lining. It’s not an easy thing to achieve which means my thief was either very skilled or very lucky. 

That button cost me my phone but more importantly my decision to get ratted and then wander around on my own at half past bastard in the morning had, like the proverb For Want Of A Nail, led to greater things going wrong. Had I not been that drunk I would have found the bus stop. Had I found the bus stop I wouldn’t have been wandering around with my phone out. Had I been sober I would have simply moved away quickly, or even run, when the bloke walked up. Had I been less drunk I would have done up that third button.

All the training in the world, all that time spent doing gradings and learning about avoidance, de-escalation and fighting techniques…was meaningless because I was so inebriated. 

I know an E5 Krav Maga instructor and told him this story. He said that this kind of thing is one reason he doesn’t drink alcohol at all. 

It only took the smallest of errors for all that misery to occur and what scared me the most was that my training, mindset and skills were negated completely. The third button was undone because I wasn’t aware it could have prevented this crime and above all it made me realise that.

No matter how hard you train.

How strong you are.

How determined you feel.

How good you might be.

None of that will matter if you are

attacked when you are drunk.

** Imagine throwing an aquaphobe in the Arctic ocean...and then seeing them swim back.

Through You...

John walked into the gym, the receptionist smiled to him as he came up to the desk, a nod of acknowledgement and a slight trace of sadness in her smile. John didn’t say anything, just walked through the open turnstile. He was dressed as normal in workout clothes, trainers. His hair the usual regimented short trim that he had cut once a week. As he moved past the guys using the weights and running machines one of the other staff saw him. “Hi John” the man said brightly but John again didn’t respond. The man looked over at the receptionist confused and she slowly shook her head. The man shrugged and carried on with the induction he was leading. An old lady who wanted to know how the cycling machines worked and if they’d be good for her before she went up to the Lake District to stay with her son.

John walked past the main workout area and into a side corridor, the office he wanted was on the left. The door was open and he knocked lightly, hearing voices inside.

“Come in” a deep voice replied and he pushed the door to find Max the gym manager and another guy in there.

“John” Max said grinning. “Good to see you”. He turned to the other man. “So that’s basically what we need, if you can email me back with a template then we’ll take it from there.”

The other guy shook Max’s hand and nodded to John before walking out, closing the door softly behind him.

Max gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk. “Take a seat. It’s good to see you again.”

As John sat down, his bulky frame barely fitting in the chair, Max looked at his face. He was still the same from a superficial glance, clean shaven, hair kept trimmed with almost military precision but his eyes held a sadness that looked like it was taking him over. There were dark patches under his eyes and Max guessed John wasn’t sleeping. He sat down in his own chair.

“Can I get you a coffee, tea?” he asked, pointing to the kettle behind him. 

“No, I’m fine”. Johns’ voice was croaky, like he hadn’t spoken for a while. Max guessed he had been spending a lot of time on his own, too much isolation is a bad thing. It means you think too much.

“So what can I do for you? You coming back? The kids miss you, you know. Little Julie asks where you are every time. Nathan’s been doing a good job but we need him back on the pilates group. He’s not qualified for self defence. As a gap fill it’s OK but…”

John held up his hand and Max trailed off. “I think it’s best if I don’t come back…not ever”.

Max sighed. Worst case scenario, he’d thought this might happen. He leaned forward slightly “Look, no one blames you. For chrissakes, how on Earth could you ever think you were to blame for what happened?”

John’s face remained stoic but his eyes briefly flashed with anger and he exhaled slowly. 

“I tried to keep those kids safe.”

“Which you have done, and very well I might add.”

John glared at him and then replied “So safe that someone died?”

Max knew this would be like walking on eggshells, he’d expected this conversation to come but actually dealing with it was another matter.

“John, Tommy stood up for his friend at school. When he fell he hit his head. It’s literally that simple. Even the lad who hit him didn’t mean to hurt him that badly. He’s having counselling himself about this. This wasn't at the club it was at school. Tommy’s mum and dad don’t blame you. The police don’t blame you and I don’t blame you. Why do you blame yourself?”

John paused and Max could see the conflict behind his eyes, keeping his emotions in check. John cleared his throat then spoke again.

“I started the class so those kids could feel safe. So they would be able to stand up to bullies, not walk around scared like I did when I was their age. We do this for a year and we have gradings and then Tommy thinks he’s Superman and….”. He trailed off, looking away.

Max sat back in his seat. “You know Tommy idolised you?”

John’s face turned to look at Max and his calm demeanour slipped. “That was the fucking problem wasn’t it?! He idolised me, he worshipped me. John the big tough guy. Look how much good that did him. All I ever did was put him in a place where he thought he could be a superhero and now he’s dead”. John turned away again, his lips pursing and Max could see his fists were clenched. 

Max looked at him for a few moments and then asked “Is stopping this going to bring him back?”

“Don’t patronise me you arsehole!” John snapped back, the fury clear on his face.

Max sighed and then stood up, moving to the filing cabinet beneath the kettle and teacups. He opened the top drawer and slid out a large book. Turning he placed it on the desk facing John.

“Tommy’s mother gave me this” he said tapping the cover. “She asked me to show it to you when I told her you might not come back”.

John looked confused but then leaned forward to look. The cover had a newspaper cutting of him sellotaped to the front, the tape had come loose on one side. It was at his MMA fight for the McMillan Cancer Trust about 6 months ago, holding the winner’s trophy and smiling.

“What…..?!” he said nonplussed, then opened the first page. It crackled as he turned it over and was full of pictures of him, from newspapers and prints from online websites. As he turned the next page there were photos of him and Tommy from the club, at training and at the gradings. Two were were Tommy’s parents, smiling behind them as they posed for a photo at Tommy’s second junior exam. The boy looked happy and tired.

Turning another page there were drawings Tommy had done, of him and John as masked superheroes. He had been a good artist and the pictures were beautifully drawn in pencil and colours.

John closed the book and looked up at Max, his face seething with anger.

“What the fuck?!!…” He stood up, fists still clenched and said through gritted teeth. “I already feel like shit and now you want to rub my face in it. This just makes the whole thing worse. I knew that boy was obsessed but…”

Max cut him off and gestured for him to sit down. “John please…”

Tears were forming in John’s eyes and he slowly sat again, glaring at Max. Max paused for a long time, his elbows on the desk and his hands under his chin as he looked at John. Then he said slowly. “Tommy had virtually no friends. He lived for comic books and the self defence classes you ran. His dad told me that in the space of six months he went from being isolated and shy, afraid of his own shadow to confident and happy. Every night he’d come home and every conversation was about either Spiderman, The Justice League or you.”

John looked away towards through the half drawn shutters on the window, the people working out in the main gym were visible in the background. He said nothing. Max continued.

“He loved you and you were his hero. Do you know why his mother gave me this to show you? She told me that it wasn’t because of you that Tommy died but through you that he lived.”

John started to cry, the pain and grief finally spilling to the surface. His shoulders heaved and he put his hands over his face.

Max stood up and moved around the desk. He placed his hand on John’s arm and said gently “Think about it. I’ll respect your decision if you decide to give up the classes but no one, and especially not Tommy’s parents want you to stop”.

Max left the office, closing the door behind him quietly. He went outside for a walk, stopping at reception to say that absolutely no one was to enter his office until he got back. 

When he returned, John was gone and so was Tommy’s scrapbook. 

The following week John came back and the kids mobbed him as he came through the door, super pleased to see him again. A new photo of Tommy was on the wall and remained there. 

No one would ever forget him.

The GIC Hump

The reality of day 7 of the Krav Maga General Instructors Course (2nd phase).

6am. Wake up and find you have absolutely no desire to go to training. Eat a 4 egg omelette, a big bowl of muesli (with soy milk) and 2 very strong filter coffees. Get your shit together and traipse off to the train station with your legs hurting from the previous 6 days of training, grizzling to yourself that the weather has the temerity to be 2 degrees above freezing.

8.15am. Get to training and realise you absolutely do not want to be there. Decide to get changed anyway and wonder how long it is till lunch time, knowing full well that it's at least 4 hours away.

8.30am to 1pm. Spend your time doing bear hug releases, throws and knife attacks. Your body is protesting at the abuse you've put it through for the last week for 7+ hours a day, every day. You find that you can't remember things that you absolutely should know by this point and wing it when you are asked "Do you know this technique?" Your knees feel like they are full of sulfuric acid and every time you make a mistake you feel like the whole world hates you. It is taking most of your stamina to stay in the room and you secretly entertain the idea that getting injured would enable you to be invalided off the course without being perceived as a quitter. You then spend 30 minutes feeling guilty for thinking that. You take 2 Ibuprofen and 1 Paracetomol and a sachet of glucose sport gel.

A surprise lesson is then sprung on you where you have 2 minutes to plan and teach any technique from that morning. You silently curse the unfairness of life while frantically scribbling on your notepad.

You feel like having a little cry in the corner but summon reserves of energy that you didn't know you had. You forget the names of about 4 people in the room and want nothing more than to go home and go back to bed.

As you break for lunch you feel that your body is completely wrecked and that life cannot get any worse.

1.30pm The double shot espresso that you just drank, plus a huge tuna salad and the painkillers and the glucose gel have all combined to give you a lift of energy. Your self pity has evaporated and you have a pleasant lunch with 2 of your fellow trainees where you even laugh a couple of times. You head back to the training centre looking forward to the afternoon session.

2.30pm. You start a workshop on some rather crafty fighting tactics involving some rather painful takedowns and throws. You thoroughly enjoy yourself and make a note to use the "Grab The Leg, Kick The Groin" roundhouse kick defence at the earliest opportunity.

5pm. You wrap up the day's training feeling tired but exhilarated, realising that you learned a great deal. You confide in an existing instructor that you felt like quitting today and she says with a grin "That's called the hump. You've just got over it. Mine was on day 5".

Kids Instructor Course 2016

Kids Instructor Course, KIC

Haifa, Israel

21st to 25th June 2016

by Lance Manley

Junior Safe Krav Maga is a UK children’s Krav school owned by Russell Brotherston an E2 KMG instructor who also teaches at Krav Maga Midlands. 

The Kids class is children aged 6 to 10 where the techniques taught focus mainly on evasion and avoiding confrontation. From 10 to 16 the tactics are similar to the adult classes with more emphasis on striking and some sparring work.

The curriculum is however very different from adult Krav with clear lines drawn between what is and isn’t acceptable when dealing with confrontation and aggression. Soft and hard techniques are shown and the children are told when to use them and in what situations they are appropriate.

Israeli Zeev Cohen of KMG is a Master Level 1 instructor (Expert level 6) and the creator of the Kids Instructor course. After assisting at JSKM for nearly 2 years I’d been wanting to do take KIC for ages but was unable to due to not having done the General Instructors Course. I was chuffed to bits when I discovered that KMG now allow non GIC to take the program, meaning they can then work for a club run by a qualified KMG instructor.

I needed a recommendation from my national director, Jon Bullock and also Russell in order to be considered for this. Both said to go for it and the next opportunity was to take the course in Haifa, Israel in June.

5 days of training with Zeev Cohen, in the birthplace of Krav. An opportunity not to be missed.

I’d booked accommodation online, not knowing just how big Haifa is, and was glad I’d had the foresight to arrive a day before the course started. After figuring out how to get to and from KMG’s temporary base at the Leonardo Hotel on the beach front, I did a bit of sightseeing and set the alarm for 5.30am the next morning.

Arriving in good time I was met by two Italian instructors (both called Roberta and both from Sardegna) and a fellow Brit named Richard. Along with us was Johen, a Danish instructor. The rest were Israeli and waiting for us at Zeev’s gym, which we were cheerfully told was 75 minutes drive away in the town of Kfar Saba. Piling into the minibus we got to the gym about 8am and were met by Daniel KMG of Krav HQ, someone I’d interacted with many times on Facebook but had never met before. 

Zeev greeted us and after a warm up we got into our first practical lesson. 45 minutes of Kids based classroom stuff. The manual Zeev gave us is one he wrote himself. His passion for teaching children was very clear, as was how seriously he takes his job and his instructions and directions were very precise and detailed. 

Zeev stressed the importance of making instructions easy to follow for children and to keep language at a basic. Someone used the expression “at a loose end” and was corrected as this would possibly be too complicated for some kids to understand. 

He also emphasised just how easily children can be distracted and how it’s important to keep their attention and above all not be boring. He added that instructors are not comedians but humour can work if you use it appropriately in lessons.

One interesting aspect was that he said techniques should not be corrected in the warm ups as this is only to get the children motivated and literally “warmed up”. 

After the practical lesson we then moved on to feedback and discussing what we’d done. 

We broke for lunch at 1pm, making our way into town for a much needed laffa bread kebab and some liquids.

When we started off the afternoon’s work, even in an air conditioned room I was feeling the heat and so were some of the others. We finally stopped about 5pm with a homework task for the next day. A micro lesson of 7 or 8 minutes that we would give to each other before the big event on Thursday when we actually got to teach to some of Zeev’s younger students.

Back in the taxi and home for a much needed shower and some sleep. 

KIC Day 2

22nd June 2016

The second day was held at the same place where E camp was taking place, in a local school’s sports hall, about 10 minutes by bus from my flat. I grabbed a large coffee on the way in, and met the others at the venue.

Today was the micro lesson but we started off with a lot of physical stuff, including “fencing” (trying to poke our partner in the belly with one hand behind our backs) and moving up in difficulty to eventually arrive at take downs. 

We then did some pad work with us laying on our backs and our partners attempting to touch our heads with a strike shield. Zeev taught us a specific technique in order to stand up from this, progressing from basic stuff to actually trying it while our partners were giving us a hard time. 

We moved on to the assessments and were split into 2 groups of 5, with half the mat each. Our colleagues were pretending to be the ‘kids’ when it was our turn to go. The idea was that you had planned for 20 minutes but would finish in just 8. Zeev sat facing both groups, sideways on and put a timer down for us to see. Once it hit red it meant you had just 2 minutes left.

I was impressed by my colleagues’ lessons, and Zeev had generously allowed me to go after the more experienced Krav instructors.

When it came to my turn I quickly realised that the 8 minutes that had seemed so long when everyone else did it, was in fact a blink of light when you were playing the instructor. I got most of my lesson done but had to can the planned ending. Once everyone had gone through we broke for lunch.

14 year old Israeli trainee Edden, one of the juniors also taking the course told me that she is often underestimated by people who think she is ‘cute’ due to her short stature and youth. Having “fenced’ with her earlier I knew how tough she was, as I could barely get near her she was so agile. She added that any guy who tried to give her a hard time on the street would “get his ass kicked”.

Moving back to the training venue and the E level students were making their way in for the afternoon’s training. It was good to see Nick Maison again, owner of Total Krav Maga who was up for his E4 test. Also Jon Bullock and Alan Dennis.

Back inside and we took up residence in a smaller fitness room, as the E camp were going to have the use of the main hall. Zeev gave us all constructive feedback and when he got to me, said that he liked my sense of humour and that was something I should build on when teaching children. As I’d been nervous as hell before, during and after the micro lesson, this was reassuring and uplifting to hear. He added that my lack of technical ability was something I needed to work on but was counter balanced by my presentation skills.

Later on a lady came into the room and it turned out that the Womens Instructor Course had nowhere to take their lesson and needed the space. As no other suggestions were forthcoming, Zeev moved us back into the main hall, on the mats we had been on in the morning. Eyal Yanilov was instructing around 80 E level students in the finer arts of pistol disarms. A lad in my group frantically ‘shushed’ me when I was putting on my boxing gloves as the velcro made a loud noise. I’ve been in awe of G levels myself, let alone E and can understand that fear that drawing attention to yourself will result in being invited to take part in a multiple attackers scenario. 

We then moved into some striking techniques, with Zeev correcting us. I realised then just how lacking my fighting skills are, as I wasn’t using correct arm positions or moving my hips correctly, for a lot of the time. This was counter balanced by my partner who was only 17 but very agile and used to moving well.

We broke for the day, and I spotted Dimitris from Krav Maga Chania, who I had trained with while on holiday in Crete last year. He was there taking the WIC and they’d all been dancing the Zumba in the small fitness suite.

KIC Day 3

23rd June 2016

Another taxi ride to Kfar Saba where we went through the final feedback from the micro lessons from the previous day before and then worked on further games and ways to entertain little Kravvers.

One thing we were all looking forward to and fearing in equal measure was the arrival of THE KIDS. Zeev had asked his junior Kravvers which ones would like to come and help out with his training of wannabe instructors from abroad, and apparently there had been a lot of enthusiastic responses from ages 5 to about 13.

I was partnered with Richard. He’d got his G3 patch at the previous week’s G camp and was super attentive to detail on his lesson plan. We’d exchanged a lot of Watts App messages the night before in order to prepare and at lunch time (plus any other possible moment) were going over what we intended to do. As he already had GIC, I’d suggested that he handle the technical delivery while I dealt with the introduction and warm ups. We’d been handed the task of teaching Stop Kicks and as the clock ticked ever closer to 4pm when the children would arrive, we were both getting nervous. 

After lunch all of us sat with Zeev in the training room and thrashed out our lesson plans. He suggested changes where he thought necessary and helped us get it streamlined in time. By 3.45 we could hear giggly voices on the stairwell and knew it was time to get ready.

Zeev had told us that the children would be super excited to see non Israeli teachers and the first group up had Joen in it, who introduced himself as a viking. This was translated into Hebrew and the kids all giggled. His lesson was with two other teachers and went really well.

Next me and Richard were up and I got the kids into a line and introduced us before getting them into a warm up playing Tag followed by kicking and punching a strike shield, mainly as an intro to the technical plans later on. I was very grateful for Richard occasionally swinging by with his strike shield to whisper the time. We were on a very tight schedule with a lesson of only 25 minutes and things had to be kept to the limits we’d agreed. 

I then handed over to Richard and he got stuck into the main part, showing the children the 3 moves to block a front kick. We finished with a game where they had to run in teams to try the moves with either of us and then lined up for the final Kida. Time had blurred and I was sweating buckets, even in the air conditioned luxury of Zeev’s gym.

As I went to change into a dryer t-shirt the two Italian Robertas were lining their kids up. When everyone had been through we made our way downstairs to get the taxi back to Haifa, looking forward to a slightly more relaxed tone for the final two days with the added bonus of no homework. 

Day 4

24th June 2016

A 9am start in a venue a few minutes by bus from your hotel is always a pleasure and I even managed to grab breakfast on the way in. E camp were in the main room again and it was good to have a quick chat with Russell who was up for his E1.

Once in our classroom Zeev gave us all detailed and constructive feedback about our lessons yesterday. When he got to me he complimented on my use of what he called positive reinforcement and paying compliments to kids who did moves well or tried hard. He picked me up on my use of voice, saying that needed work so I sounded more confident but adding that from 2 days ago it had improved considerably and then added “The learning curve you have shown throughout this course is very impressive”. He handed me my feedback form which had a score of 90% on it. To say I was pleased would have been an understatement.

We had a day of mainly theory based instruction, working on the Young 2 grading criteria and ways to overcome problems found in training, such as raising the elbow when doing a straight punch (put the kid against a wall when they are practicing, leaving them no option but to punch straight).

Later we kitted up with 16oz gloves, groin guards, gum shields and shin protection for some light striking training. Normally I am fine being in a public place doing this type of thing but behind us were the entirety of E camp who were having a short break. I realised just how hard these guys were being grilled when I saw at least 5 people sprawled out on the floor taking cat naps before they had to go back in. While doing a punching combo I noticed Eyal Yanilov, who had been chatting with Zeev, was watching me and my partner. After a few seconds he said to me “Look at the chest when striking, don’t look at the targets”. My nervousness got to extremes when I realised that a lot of the E camp were milling about near to us. The only thought in my head was “My striking must look lousy to them”. Looking back on it, I doubt most of them even cared as they had their own stuff to focus upon.

We broke at 3.30 due to Sabbat, a Jewish holy period which meant public transport would shut down by about 5pm and Zeev plus his teenage trainees had to get the last train home. 

KIC Day 5

25th June 2016

The final day was more subdued. We kicked off at 9 with some grappling and striking training, with the idea being that we could show the teens or older kids that we would soon be teaching just how to do it. When we broke and moved back into the classroom, Zeev spent the remainder of our time giving advice on how to best advertise and promote junior Krav to both kids and their parents.

When we stopped to get our certificates a brief ceremony then took place and afterwards Zeev asked to speak to me in private. Ever paranoid I approached him in a quiet corner, like a guilty schoolboy. Turned out that he wanted to offer advice on getting my footwork and striking up to speed as he felt that they brought down my teaching abilities. He added “Your ability to teach, especially to children…is amazing.” Superbly chuffed at this praise/ advice I really felt that the course had been 100% worthwhile.

T-shirts were also given out, emblazoned with the words “Krav Maga Global- Kids Instructor” and I genuinely hadn’t felt as proud since I was chosen by Eyal Yanilov to fight the bullet men 2 years ago at the KMG world tour.

Really amazing experience, showing just how much Zeev loves working with children and how much energy the guy has when he teaches. Top notch training and a thoroughly wonderful time in the heartland of Krav Maga.

Zeev said afterwards “Teaching KIC in Israel is in all ways unique, mainly because the “to be” instructors can see in their own eyes how Krav Maga is educating kids to become better people at life. This year we have been lucky to have the same number of international and Israeli participants, which made the course a unique mixture of English, Hebrew, Italian and some Chinese. The kids and their parents were excited from the training given to them and are still talking about it. All in all, I felt that you guys were getting the core of how to operate the kids program and you are ready to ‘rock it’ back in your homelands.”

Finally I managed to grab Eyal Yanilov to present him with a copy of my Krav book. Zev got a copy of that plus one of my kids' book.

Good times.

Lance Manley is a freelance journalist and author of the book Walk In Pieces: Diary of a Krav Maga Practitioner.