Note: I've been into martial arts and self-defense for quite some time now. It's not a subject that I take too seriously, for the sake of my own sanity. As many older and wiser people in the field have told me: "The subject is too serious not to laugh at."
Some time ago, there was a discussion of teamwork in the martial arts on Marc MacYoung's Animal List. Upon reading it, I (being in a weird mood at the time) decided to take it literally, and further decided to "run with it" by making up my own martial arts "team." The following sarcastic and unbalanced post is the result. What can I say? I have an odd sense of humor.
Teamwork in the martial arts, eh?
It can be done. Here's my idea of an all-star martial arts team.
Wladislas "Pimples" Jablonski, Offensive Lineman: Jablonski is the most
versatile of offensive linemen, being able to play any position --
especially the mount -- and to dish out some of the most offensive lines
imaginable to female students without even knowing they're offensive!.
("Hey baby, wanna tie me up with your obi and spank my ass with the
rubba-chuks?"). Prefers to deliver said lines during "real life self-defense
drills," during which his offensiveness is magnified tenfold by his body
odor, halitosis and pizza-like complexion. His handprints -- in
seemingly-indelible potato-chip grease-- appear on certain parts of every
female student's gi.
Mort "Pit Bull" Armbruster, Center: Armbruster is the quintessential center;
always managing to find himself right in the center of any conflict that
materializes in the school, even if he has to start it. Memorable lines:
"Fuck you! You didn't even touch me!"; "Nice punch, Tinkerbell!"; "I can't
kick him in the balls, Sensei. He ain't got none!"; "I thought this was
Brazilian jujutsu, not Greek!"; "Hey Bob, I was bangin' Suzi here out in
the parking lot during the Iaido seminar, and she said you have trouble
gettin' your 'katana' out of the scabbard!" and of course, "Just try that
move on ME."
LaMarcus "Too Fast" Washington, Left Guard: Your guard must never be left
down when dealing with this guy. All fast-twitch muscle, and the words "hajime" and
"yame" mean absolutely nothing to him. 'Nuff said?
Clement "Nuoc Mam" Liederkranz, Right Guard: Right Guard is one thing you
won't find in this gent's possession, along with soap, toothpaste, shampoo,
etc. His headlock is particularly dangerous, motivating some opponents to
tap out before he even completes it. Owing to an exclusive diet of goat
cheese quesadillas and canned bean dip, proper peristalsis is something that
hasn't occurred in his alimentary canal for years. If he teams up with
Jablonski for tandem situps during physical conditioning, fatalities can
result. It's rumored that he can take a dump from a freeway overpass and
shatter the windshield of an oncoming semi.
Vinnie "Trouser Snake" Balducci, Tight End: Imagine Andrew "Dice" Clay with
access to Liberace's tailor, squeezed into a five-foot-five package. Wears
custom-made satin gi -- with sequins and fucking rhinestones, fer cryin' out
loud! -- that prominently displays his "tight end" and the two pairs of
socks he shoves into his supporter. This stunted Steve Reeves can also be
counted on to draw as much attention to himself as possible during physical
conditioning, shrieking and groaning his way through that last set of
chin-ups like a sailor taking a wizz after a week at Subic Bay.
Earl "Truffles" Carmichael, Wide Receiver: Widely known for receiving (and
transmitting) every fungal infection known to man -- including some to which
only women are usually susceptible-- this walking biological weapon just
loves to grapple, of course. And he's damned good at it! Between the
jock-itch, ringworm, athlete's foot, jungle rot, etc., striking him
anywhere is good for a minimum of fifty bucks worth of antibiotics, and
putting any kind of finishing hold on him is like trying to squeeze
slime-mold off a dead tree. Teammates' favorite prank: Spraying him with
Cruex and hollering, "I'm melllllllting!"
And last but not least:
Dave "White Trash" Bean. MVP (Most Vitriolic Prick): Writes shit like this.
Sews John Deere, Budweiser and Naval Flag patches to his gi. Brutally
overuses alliteration and does to similes what Derrida did to philosophy.
Paints face like a mime before performing kata. Asks questions like, "Yeah,
but kin ye' drink strychnine and handle rattlers?" during "ki
Rebel yells in place of a kiai. Mounts "jackalope" head above kamiza, uses
same as an ashtray. Nips from a hip flask in between drills. Takes great
delight in tormenting the opposite gender: Forms middle and index fingers
into a "v" and sticks tongue into the groove when bowing to a female
sparring partner. Says things like: "Yew almos' as feisty as mah sister!";
"Oh yeah, baby! A little more to the left!" or; "Yer marriage ain't doin'
too good, is it? Ah kin tell!" during randori, and occasionally stops
fighting and sighs heavily for no particular reason.
Favorite prank: Soaking supporter in water/constarch mixture; crumpling
said while still damp; sprinkling a few drops of urethane varnish here and
there; drying it in the oven, and leaving it on the bench in the locker
(Just kidding about most of that stuff.)
©2004, 2006, David J. Bean