Enter Mr. Ben Gallant, a sharp talking nidan (2nd degree black belt) who had studied under Mr. Craig Munn from the Brandtford United Martial Arts location. Mr. Gallant was young (weren't we all!), boisterous and charismatic, and he made it perfectly clear early on that he wasn't going to take any crap from anybody. He earned my respect very quickly and still has it to this day.
Unfortunately, Mr. Gallant had always worked in Martial Arts, not the best earning industry in the world, and so he didn't own a car, and was only able to find a place to stay about 20 drive from the club. By bus I'm sure it took him much longer. I would often give him a lift home as his place was closer to mine than anyone else's, during which time I'd like to say I got to know him well, but we never became close friends.
Up until Ben (Mr. Gallant) joined the club I had been training extensively with Brandon (Mr. Kersey) - especially in sparring and weapons. Being a lightweight, Brandon moved like lightning which I thought was completely normal at the time. To stand any chance with him when sparring, one had to move equally as quickly, so though I didn't realise it at the time, Brandon turned me into a heavyweight who fought like a lightweight. I relied on strategy, timing and speed rather than power and momentum like most beginner heavyweights.
When Brandon dissapeard to go run Millcreek, I lost my sparring guru. I remember training a few times with Ben in the afternoon before the first kids class as we were often both over an hour early, where one of his remarks was "you're pretty quick for a fat guy." ... er... thanks... I think!
Ben changed my fighting style a bit, he was a thinking fighter, and I tended to kick alot, so he fought me as you would a kicker and usually won. That's when I stopped relying on kicks so much and started striking alot more. I developed a very fast counter reverse punch which then became my mainstay, and kicked about 10% of the time instead of 50% or so. His training helped me win the first provincial tournament in sparring to qualify for team Canada in the WKA. (unfortunately I later placed third and fourth respectively in the next two tournaments, and therefore didn't qualify for the national team)
Shortly after winning the first tournament the club manager thought I should split my time between the clubs as I was the membership salesman, and membership was lagging at Millcreek. So, that's when I started spending Tuesday through Thrusday at Millcreek and Friday Saturday at Mississauga. I was having a grand old time and happy to be back with Brandon, but also a little unhappy at having a reduced role at the club I knew and loved. I missed Krista's (Mrs. Kersey's) guidance and commraderie, my old friends, and Millcreek was always literally colder and darker than Mississauga (the ceiling was way too high).
I had a few interesting jobs at Millcreek, painting, cleaning up the computer wiring, and one particular job that that I look back on and say "what was I thinking?". I was to climb up to the ceiling and secure the chains of the hanging bags to each other so they wouldn't hit the support beams. Our ladder extended to about 20 feet, but the ceiling was about 30 feet up. Through clever use of the roller door and supports I was able to make it to the ceiling and do the work I needed to do. I did this a few times over a couple of days, and in retrospect it was a pretty stupid thing to do. No safety harness or support, and no one was at the club while I did it. Thankfully I didn't have a fall (no less than three limbs on an anchor point at a time) and things kept going smoothly.
It was when I was at Millcreek that three major events that shaped my training occured. First, I lost my car. Second, I met Mr. Dave Evans. Third, my cornea was injured.
Regarding the car, you might remember from the last blog that my old Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme was over 10 years old. I had replaced the windshield once, the driver's side window twice, (now held up with duct tape as the electric window mechanism had failed) and there was body work and mismatched paint on the hood and roof of the car. Inside it was nice, but it was loosing its "Get up and Go". Unfortunately I knew alot less about engines than I know now and I realise that it probably just needed new gaskets or maybe new plugs or something. I wasn't making any money, and was slowly getting into increasing debt, so push came to shove and I decided to sell the car.
With the money I received from the sale, I got out of debt (momentarily) and bought new wheels for my push bike (Road Bike for you Canadians). It was spring or summer, and so sometimes I rode to Millcreek, or would take the bus to Mississauga and Brandon would give me a lift up to his club.
Secondly I met Dave. I didn't know it when I first met him, but he would become one of the best friends I'd ever have. It was something like a Wednesday adult's class at Millcreek. I had been giving a few prospective cardio kickbox members my sales pitch as the class started. I got onto the floor sometime after the stretch, and there was this blue belt I had never seen before. It was a little like looking into a mirror. Large in stature (taller than me), bald (I wasn't bald yet, but had a really high hairline and was contemplating it), easy smile, easy going, strong in Kata. Of course, testosterone kicked in and I picked my training up a notch - nothing like a little friendly competition even if the other party doesn't know there is one!
Dave Evans
Dave and I became fast friends, and guess what? Much like Guy who started this whole thing off in the first place, Dave was from a city called Saskatoon in the province of Saskatchewan. (They grow 'em big out there!)
Thirdly, between the first and second provincial qualifier for team Canada, I was sparring with Brandon one night. Training with Ben had slowed me down a bit as he was bigger and had more reach than Brandon, and one of Brandon's backfists caught me easily. Unfortunately, I didn't even flinch it was so fast, and something scratched my left eye. The pain was incredibly intense, I'd never felt anything like it before. I had to stop training for the night, and I couldn't open my eye as it hurt too much. Every time I blinked it was as though I had sandpaper on the inside of my eyelid.
I would later find out that I had scratched my cornea, which heals very quickly, but takes a long time to smooth out. Months later I would still occasionally notice the pain as I blinked if I was a little dehydrated. As a result of the eye injury I became very leery of sparring, and insisted on buying a pair of goggles before I would spar properly again. It took me a while to find the right pair (Oakley Water Jackets), and the lack of training led to my losses in the provincial qualifiers.
Still, Karate is Karate, and one of the most important lessons Krista ever taught me was to never give up, so I kept training diligently.
Yours on the journey,
J.
