Collegiate nationals (4/16 and 4/17, Bridgeport CT) were a total blast from the past. The frenzied school pride, the rabid fans crowding up to the very edges of the rings--those were things I remembered from my undergraduate experience that I missed on the west coast. MIT and Johns Hopkins brought the largest teams, and anytime one of their fighters was up, the raucous cheering was deafening . It made me miss the good old days back at Princeton, and made me realize how big a role tkd played during my formative college years.

Taekwondo in east coast schools is very different. The abundance of universities means there are lots of other teams to face, many foes to root against. Fighting at Stanford is always more of a personal adventure. While you may still have friends behind you cheering you on,  there is never the sense of a school vs. school rivalry, of club unity. At collegiate nationals, MIT's coordinated cheering was loud, awesome, and intimidating. Not that I'm a mushy guy who needs others to love him, but being the sole competitor from Stanford was a lonely experience.

I remember walking into the gym and finding a place to sit down. Each school had set up camp at a different spot. I sort of plopped my ass down in between Berkeley, a school that had many players I recognized and sort of knew, and Princeton, my old school, full of newcomers I didn't recognize. I sat near them both, but a little bit away. It wasn't the same as having my own team, but they were the most familiar things I could find in that foreign environment.

On a hunch, I searched through the ranks of the MIT team and found Conor Madigan, a fellow Princeton '00 classmate (we both did electrical engineering and tkd). I chatted with him a bit--he definitely looked older than the last time I saw him 4 or so years ago. When he smiled, his face betrayed creases that were not there before. Same goes for me, I suppose, but to a lesser extent for some reason.

I also talked with my old instructors back at Princeton, Master Choi and Master Hatfield. Back when I was his student, Master Choi was one cocky mofo. Armani suits...porsche...sky high tuition and testing fees. Once when I told him I wasn't interested in a seminar run by one of his cronies because it would have meant paying extra money he looked me in the eyes and told me, "I don't take no for an answer." But at nationals he seemed old, tired. His dad was in the hospital, sick with cancer. He had sold his sportscar. "Those days are behind me."

i competed in the feather weight division, which goes from 137 to 147 pounds. with my usual luck, i got a "by" for my first fight so i got to watch the match that would determine who i would face at the next stage. it was between players from cal and calstate northridge. the guy from berkeley, despite his massive height advantage (6 ft vs. 5'9"), fared poorly. his lack of checking left him very vulnerable to back kicks, and he was total fodder for his opponent's attacking double kicks, because he wouldn't MOVE WHEN ATTACKED!  Towards the end, with some coaching from Alvin Marquez, the cal player started to catch on, and jammed some of his opponent's double kicks. Too little too late.

So I faced the guy from calstate northridge. I'm actually surprised that this guy managed to squeeze under the 147 mark. He was both taller and thicker than me. I can only guess at how much he dehydrated himself before weigh-ins. his doubles were solid. master ghormley counseled me to get in and get out, since exchanging kicks at mid range would only play into his strength advantage. His coach was Tim Thackerey, a member of the US collegiate team and probably one of the top ten American athletes. interestingly, while tim was attending calstate hayward, my own coach, master ghormley, was his instructor. 

the mats we were fighting on were brand new. they were very slippery, and coach explained to me later that mats fresh from the factory were coated with fine dust--byproducts of the manufacturing process.  So we squared off in the usual way, and after some checking on both our parts in closed position,  i opened with a fast kick and clinch. No score, though i thought maybe it deserved to. we both kicked on the way out, but neither of us landed solidly. with memories of missed back kicks converting into points for my opponents fresh in my mind, i decided to start out on a conservative tack, opting to use counterattacks over interception. so when he attacked a few times with closed-open doubles, and I slid back and threw padachagis. none of them landed solidly because i was too far (mental note: when fighting taller opponents, must slide back to avoid attack and then PUT ON THE BRAKES). Hitting my opponent thus did get him nervous enough to glance over at the electronic scoreboard, though. The first point in the match happened from open stance, my left side forward. i checked until i was very close, well within both our ranges. at that point, i figured it was kick or be kicked. plus attacking was a low-risk proposition because at that distance there wouldn't be time to throw back kicks. MAYBE if the mats hadn't been so slippery, things would have turned out differently, i don't know, but i have to give credit to my opponent. when i pushed off with my right leg to throw my right roundhouse, he managed, at point blank range, to get his back kick around fast enough, and to fade away enough to give him space to extend his left leg. none of my training partners at stanford could have pulled that back kick off. i can't count the number of times i've managed to land the roundhouse and get my foot down in time to side step the back kick in very similar situations. something else i noticed during the fight: my opponent had a tendency to grab. the center ref told him to stop but he kept doing it and i could clearly see the ref hovering hesitantly nearby, uncertain of what to do. he even laughed nervously at one point. several times i jammed the double and immediately tried to counterattack on the way out only to find my left shoulder trapped by his right arm (he correctly guessed that i had a tendency to kick out with my right). neither of us were good at landing solid blows on the way out of a clinch.  during one of our clinches, however, my opponent made his big mistake. while doing a leg check, he dropped his closed-side hand a little too much.  well, actually i have to admit that i didn't notice this particular vulnerability on my own. most decent opponents will properly guard against axes in the clinch. Axing from the clinch is usually something i don't even bother trying. but when we were clinching, i could very clearly see coach ghormley over the shoulder of my opponent. we made eye contact and he patted himself on the head, meaning, THROW THE AXE KICK NOW! so i did, and i had the momentary satisfaction of seeing my opponent's head dragged down by my foot. this had a very galvanic effect on him. he gave me a big double-fisted shove (which is legal now in tkd). because i was already leaning back from the axe kick, i got sent backwards. he followed with an aggressive double-kick and sort of hit me (though it didn't score). right then and there round one ended, and i escaped with a 2-1 lead. in round two, somehow we ended up in the same clinch again, master ghormley started patting his head again, and i threw the same axe kick. for a moment i was up 4-1. but then my opponent, who was a good deal stronger than me, shoved me backwards, and closed the distance with a double kick. i knew i couldn't get out of the way fast enough, so i started doubling out, just to throw up some interference. he had a lot more momentum than me, though, so i fell over. somehow, as i was falling, a roundhouse came up and hit me in the cheek. i heard someone yell "OHHHHH!!" and my coach caught me before i hit the ground. i got up right way. no dizziness. good sign. round two ended soon afterwards and i was still up 4-3. In round three though, i started to get tired, and became too slow to initiate attacks or get out of the way when attacked. Even checking was taking it's toll on me. On top of that, all the sliding around on the mats caused a callous on my big toe to rip open.

i took this picture after i got home. let's just say it was very bloody and hurt like a bitch. during round three i got hit with some random double-kicks, which brought to score to 4-5. In the waning seconds of the match, I went after him but I was too tired and slow and he had a very solid double counter, and we ended 4-6.

Wow, the people at collegiates were in good shape! just after one fight, i was exhausted and winded.