The potato chipper, p.4
The Potato Chipper, page 4
Splashing Hands is truly a system of Shaolin origin. During the seventeen hundreds, the system was developed and founded at the original temple, which is located on the north summit of Shun Shan in Hunan Province, China. The system was taught to monks who guarded the temple gates. At the gates, splashing hands was only taught to a small number of students. Even after it was made available to students outside the temple, it was only practised by a select few. That was perhaps because those few who knew of its efficacy, refused to share their knowledge which might explain why it’s virtually non-existent in Mainland China today.
The system was thought to be lost although it was subsequently discovered by an American, Sifu James McNeil showed that the system was alive and was still being taught, admittedly by a select few in Taiwan who had been brought over in the late nineteen forties to early nineteen fifties after the Nationalists, led by Chiang Kai-Shek were defeated by the Communists in the Chinese Civil War.
As an overview, the splashing hands style gives men and women of any size the ability to confidently defend themselves in all situations. This is not to say that splashing hands is the best system for everyone, but it will surely complement and enhance other martial arts styles, because it trains both left and right sides of the brain, increases coordination, timing, speed, endurance, strength and overall cardiovascular conditioning.
The system looks to end a fight in a maximum of ten to fifteen seconds and is accomplished using several lightning-fast blows/kicks to the groin, knees, blinding eye pokes and sweeps. Each technique leads and flows in to the next, While the opponent is falling to the ground, the splashing hands fighter will strike him several times until he has subdued the fighter. If the fighter attempts to withdraw and gain distance, the splashing hands fighter will fuse to him and strike with elbows, kicks, jabs and punches in an unbroken chain.
Contrary to many martial arts systems that teach forms at the beginning of the fighter’s training, splashing hands starts with skills that can be readily applied. One begins by learning the basic footwork, known as the shuffles. The adept performs these shuffles in a ‘box’ painted on the floor in a linear fashion. James McNeil who taught Keith Dwan the system said that the shuffles were comparable to the footwork employed by Muhammad Ali.
Once an amount of proficiency is developed, the splashing hands fighter learns to incorporate the system’s hand techniques. the hands, feet and body move in perfect unison, and as fast and ferociously as if they were on fire. The techniques of jabbing, punching, and uppercutting can then be thrown with lightning speed in a blinding unbroken combination.
The handwork of a splashing hands fighter may look a little peculiar to the uninitiated, but I was to find it extremely useful in extracting myself out of a jam when in combat. On one occasion in late 2000, I was competing at the British Council of Chinese Martial Arts (BCCMA) Chinese Boxing Championships when, after having lost the first round through being too defensive and passive, I unleashed splashing hands techniques (minus the kicks to the groin) to change the course of the fight in the second and third rounds.
The proper mindset or fighting spirit is also essential to a fighter training in splashing hands. First, he must understand the moment a fight truly begins. It is all too often felt that this is when the first blow is thrown. However, the battle commences long before this first ‘movement’. His stance may shift, or his expression may change. His face may twitch to the wind but may only ruffle his brow. The splashing hands practitioner learns to recognise these cues, and instantaneously explodes through the opponent.
After the BCCMA tournament, I continued competing during 2001, in American Freestyle rules kickboxing matches. These were fought on a mat, without a ring and involved whirlwind sweeps where an exponent could throw his body on to the ground directing his legs in the direction of his opponents in order to take him (or her) off his legs. Towards the end of 2001, I was caught by one of these at the beginning of my first fight when my opponent and I faced off, the referee’s hand held in front, in between to ready us to fight, I noticed my opponent looking at my legs and over the course of what was probably only a couple of tenths of a second, my conscious transitioned between ‘what’s he planning’ to ‘he’s going to go for the sweep’ but it was too late, the ref’s hand dropped, my opponent dropped to the ground and spiralled his legs around in a whirlwind motion and I was on my back, looking up at the ceiling, the crowd giving thunderous applause and I was already three points down.
I then got myself up, mildly looking to settle the score, although the sweep wasn’t in my repertoire and I blitzed, splashing my way towards my target and landing several blows to close the gap. Alas, it was not sufficient as I was unable to narrow the gap points wise, and for the third year in a row, despite my efforts, I was out of the tournament. I was working hard, but not necessarily hard enough and I found myself being picked off with scores as I moved forward.
Key Learning Point: The moment in the fight was brought back to me many years later when I read Malcolm Gladwell’s book ‘Blink’. Essentially, the book advises that in matters of critical importance, when your thoughts show you that a situation is developing in front of you, due to a person or something that can be considered important, go with your initial split second feeling. The human brain is such a complicated organ that medical science still must fully understand its absolute capabilities and intricacies. In this situation, if I’d been a split second quicker and stepped back as my brain had registered that something unusual was about to occur, I wouldn’t have been swept.
I was also introduced by my Sifu, to Tai Chi Chuan training, principally Tui Shou, or Pushing Hands, along with San Shou Applications/Fighting. The former, in a training sense is a form of sensitivity training aiming to instil an ability to ‘listen’ to one’s opponent for you to control and throw him off balance, thereby permitting you to apply a throwing application to dispatch him. Basically, Tui Shou was an importance aspect of fight ability development that permitted one’s San Shou or applications to improve immensely.
I certainly found this to the case and on entry to my first Tui Shou Fixed Step Pushing Hands contest at the British Open Tai Chi Chuan and Internal Arts Championships, I defeated a number of opponents to place myself and then fight a skilled MMA exponent in the Semi-Finals in a close contest that I narrowly lost, acquiring a bloody nose subsequent to an illegal palm heel strike after I’d rocked my opponent early on. These bouts resembled a form of Static Grappling mixed with Aikido, with an emphasis on maintaining a solid stance at the same time as applying a lock or technique that could dispatch your opponent. I had a taste of coming close to a major victory and had developed a thirst for Gold Medals, not Bridesmaid Silvers and Bronzes. My patience was to be rewarded, however, only after continued intense daily training.
2002 was to be the year when I turned my mixed contest record around in a pivotal way. The foundations were laid at the end of 2001, when I won the International Olympic Committee (IOC) recognised official British Championships in a close fought contest against a guy that is a friend of mine, still to this day; a former boxer, powerlifter, as well as a former international fencer. The bout went to extra time, and I won by one point in a contest that I was expected to win and would now admit, that if I had lost, I would have been devastated.
Handling the pressure was realistically more a case of framing things in an appropriate fashion and in the moment, maintaining the concentration to a level where I didn’t leave openings that would weaken my position and end up being dumped on the deck while ‘listening’ to my opponent’s movements and awaiting an opportunity to score. I did this by maintaining softness in my limbs as opposed to rigidity (always a giveaway of weakness) and slipping my hand through the gap between his arm and rib cage to then grasp his tricep area with my hand and pull through so that his body swivelled around into a position where I could control him.
It worked. I won 3-2 and this made up for my picking up of a Bronze Medal in the San Shou Chinese Kick Boxing category as fists, knees, feet and serious intention were directed between myself and opponent on a dusty, slippery mat in Buckinghamshire. The ferocity and anaerobic near burning sensation in the lungs and chest was drawn from the flurry of high-speed punches and kicks followed by an attempted takedown. The double slapping noise of leather hitting chin, forehead and midriff in a three-point combination before honing in for a near rugby like takedown or in some cases, an absorption of an advancing opponent with a blur of hands that dazzle and catch an aggressor’s leg, before slipping one arm around the small of the back swiftly followed by a fight ending throw can be hugely impressive. In fairness, regarding my defeat, I couldn’t have expected much more as I had taken the bout at only one weeks’ notice and had arrived with a heavy cold. That’s never a good combination, but a positive that I took out of the day was that I proved that I was durable and even though I lost on points, I wasn’t knocked out, nor thrown at any point.
This is one of the ways how I learnt to handle defeat and I have had more victories than I’ve had defeats. There is a positive in all forms of competition and business. When things have gone badly for you, or for somebody that you have assessed, always project a positive spirit that shows the light at the end of the tunnel. An example would be to constructively highlight somebody’s failings in a particular event while illustrating that you know that they are capable of more and explaining in detail what could have been done better.
Similarly, when somebody has done well, do not give a hundred percent praise but a form of praise tinged with “you could still do better” and point out where errors need to be remedied. Think of it as a way of preventing people from becoming soft while still maximising performance.
Continuing in 2002, I was to win the British Open Tai Chi Tui Shou category for my weight, which required me to overcome twenty plus fighters from several different countries. I was under the added pressure of knowing that our club had not had a good day and that the onus was on me to be the one to get a gold medal for the day. Every time I received the ‘you’re next up after this fight’ near ten-minute call, I could feel the stirring feeling in my stomach, indicating that it was time to go. My first bout was proceeding extremely well and I had an 8-2 lead in throws when I made the mistake of thinking that I was home and dry. That momentary loss of concentration resulted in me ending up on my arse (with its four point loss) and the ticking up of the numbers on my opponent’s board had me wondering if his chart was going to push over my counted score of eight, but it stopped for him at six just as time was called and I was declared the winner. That was a blessing in disguise as through attrition, I’d progressively dominated him to a degree that I switched off, only for a split second; but in any form of fighting, that can be the moment where you are defeated but also its where you can exploit a lack of focus in your opponent and so overcome him.
What I am saying is never give up, as many people and objects are only as strong as their weakest link, and we all have them. It can just be a question of finding that weak link.
I pushed in to then fight a surfer type, very strong and full of energy that he ultimately used fruitlessly, as I turned his power against him to emerge victorious 9-1. Another couple of tight, close-run encounters ensued, but by then, I was well into my zone and had my mind firmly fixed on getting that gold medal. It’s strange to say it, and I was nervous as I lined up for the final, but I kept it simple, knowing that if I maintained my strategy, I would win. In the final, my opponent was slightly shorter than me, but stockier and my initial impressions were that the only way to weaken his guard was through rapid speed, mixed with softness, to avoid him detecting where my force was directed. I nipped ahead of him and kept my stance low and unyielding as I locked up his arm and threw him over to win a stirring battle 7-5.
Feeling galvanised, I felt that my winning run would continue and after having had three years of failure at the Association Freestyle rules competition, I defeated several British National standard fighters, including one doorman who I was giving three stone in weight. At one moment in our bout, having me backed into a corner, he threw a straight hard jab that I ducked under while at the corresponding time his shoulder weakened and stretched to the point of injury at the same time as I had slipped his punch. A split second later, I followed this to then explode up and inwards with a glancing left cross that caught his jaw to rock him into a bit of passivity, albeit his injury didn’t help, and I had him on the back-foot for the rest of the bout.
My opponent told me a week or so later that he had struggled to chew his food for three days’ and I certainly felt that it hadn’t been that hard a punch, so it reinforces the training/belief that if you hit somebody in the correct spot, it doesn’t have to be hard. Some years later, I was to learn the art of Dim Mak Yuet (pressure point striking) and feel the effect of having such blows inflicted on me, admittedly, with a lighter tap as in some cases, such blows can be fatal over time.
The final came against a guy who was a good street fighter who I picked off with long range kicks and the following year, I was to retain the title to my immense satisfaction with a victory over a highly aggressive constantly advancing opponent that I again picked off with a one kick, two punch or one punch, one kick, one punch strategy that always kept him second guessing as to what was coming next. Association Champion two years on the trot was a great feeling as retaining a championship when everybody is gunning for you is an even greater achievement than initially winning it. My sole regret here was that I didn’t have the opportunity to fight against my friend and teammate in addition to being a developing UFC, MMA prospect and Cage Warriors fighter Sean ‘Sexy Curls’ Carter who was disqualified in an earlier round for alleged illegal unsportsmanlike tactics (It wasn’t so). Still, time after time, I was told that the real challenge was to retain the title, not win it in the first place, and you go up against whoever you’re drawn against.
There is a lot of merit to this, although it should not be forgotten that getting over the line in the first place can be tough as last minute wobbles, or near choking often must be negotiated in the pursuit of glory. Personally, I just decided in my own mind (the day that I neared my first championship) that the day was going to be mine, and that was that. While I did have the odd moment where I started to think (always a mistake), I quickly re-aligned my thoughts to those of determination to affect the outcome, and I did not wait for it to happen. I have a series of exercises that teach people how to instil such skills in the mind.
My experience has been that once the flood gates open, it starts raining accolades but then, that’s not what it’s all about. As a result of my increasing level of promise, I was to be capped twice at international level in 2002 after having made my debut at the end of 2001 in Denmark. The 2001 Danish Open Tai Chi Chuan and Internal Arts contest had been billed as the unofficial European championships for that year as that country was hosting the Euros for 2002. Teams were therefore using this event as a trial run, which is always recommended and can be considered a form of reconnaissance. I was to be reminded by my good friend, Steve Weaver, who had been the Boxing Coach for the 3rd Battalion of the Parachute Regiment of the British Army, and possessed a great reputation for coaching fighters, not to mention being a friend of former World Champion Terry Marsh – that fighters need to train in as near as identical conditions as they will fight in, use identical mitts, in near identical lighting, in an identically sized ring etc … So many individual sportsmen do not do this and I fail to understand why.
This event was a step up and I was to have eleven times two-minute grappling fights throughout the course of the day against a mixed group of English, Irish, Austrian, Danish, Swedish and Hungarian fighters. I gained a fourth-place finish in one category, which was an achievement I was proud of, so I was content, and I also knew what I needed to do in order to progress in the future. During one of the categories, I opened with four two-minute bouts inside of thirty minutes which were fought under the original rules of Chinese grappling with foot sweeps permitted. The foot sweeps that were delivered were however akin to Thai boxing thigh kicks with that nauseating dead leg sensation that ripples up one’s outer quad into the groin & lower abdomen area. I was to shuffle my leg back in an avoiding action when one of my opponents attempted such a motion and that was easier said than done as the Danish national arena had that typical autumnal crisp feeling in the air, which exacerbated the anaerobic burning sensation in the lungs.
I was to move on to further fights where the highs eventually started to trickle in, inclusive of my defeating Denmark’s Number One on home territory and lock-in a creditable draw against an Irishman who had won the European Bronze medal the year before in Utrecht and I eventually was to pick up a fourth position to take-away with me. Believe me when I tell you that the disappointment of missing out on the Bronze was virtually non-existent. I had acquired a thirst for and a recipe for winning Gold Medals and I’m proud of the fact that when I ‘retired’ from regular active competition, I had earned more Golds, than Silvers and Bronzes combined. My gold medal count was eleven to five silver and five bronzes and while second and third place finishes are certainly worthy of celebration, it can be a pitfall to issue medals for such placings as sportsmen have been known to develop a bit of a ‘bridesmaid’ mentality.
After Denmark, I headed to the British National Championships in 2002 with the highlight of the day being a victory in the Open Weight Tui Shou category. This event was held solely for the nine individual weight category winners and given that I was the under eighty kilo champion, it certainly seemed to me that I was unlucky not to draw an opponent who was lighter than me, given that there were only three heavier individuals (I fought the three heavier guys in the event!). However, that is the skill of this discipline, to be able to overcome strength and bulk with the correct re-direction of energy. All three of my bouts were close and the final was to see me fight against an Indian fighter whom I knocked over for a four point score as well as dislodging his turban in the process. The mild numbing from a blow to my mouth from a preceding bout where one of my front incisor teeth was knocked very slightly back dissipated with this victory. Mind over matter after all.
