Originally Posted by
Amir Allam
I'm not going to tell you what to do, but I can explain my philosophy.
I don't care about winning a tournament. I don't care about medals or belts or swords or blowjobs or money or whatever the hell else one might receive as an explicit or implicit reward for victory. I care about maximizing my potential as a martial artist, which means exploring as many techniques as possible, understanding them both offensively and defensively, and making them indistinguishable from an innate part of myself. I don't want to train to beat the random purple or brown belts that may show up to my local tournament; I want to train to beat Buchecha and Cyborg and Josh Barnett and Andre Galvao. And really, I don't even care about them; they are merely a convenient barometer against which I can calibrate myself.
If I win because I managed to sneak both hooks in barely enough to get back points, what have I won? If I win because my opponent was disqualified for reaping my leg, what have I won? The only victory I recognize is to learn technique, apply it, and hone it in the heat of competition.
That said, I am not a berzerk animal when I compete. I am a martial artist. I am relaxed and confident and aware of my environment, my proximity to the edge of the mat, the rules of this particular competition, my opponent's body, the words and advice flowing from his cornermen and my own. My attacks are deliberate, and prior to stepping on the tatâmi I have already considered deeply my strategy and my opponent's, taking into account how I feel in that moment about myself and about my entire technical repertoire. There are many reasons I will jettison a particular technique at this point. If my foot is hurt, I will cast aside 15 years of wrestling and pull guard. If my opponent lacks a neck, I'm not looking for guillotines. And if bicep slicers are illegal, I won't utilize them.
Mastery of a technique means you *don't* depend on it. If you do depend on it, it is the technique that has mastered you.
