The hardest (and most dangerous) rounds for me are with those young, twenty-year-old white belts who just started training BJJ.
They show up already very athletic. Some of them may have practiced Judo for a few months as kids. They’re full of “knowledge” gained from watching MMA on Fight Channel and fighting countless battles on PlayStation.
And then, the moment the round starts, they’re immediately throwing their legs around my neck and yanking on my arm, trying to get some submission—kimura, americana, whatever—because that’s what they came for.
Meanwhile, I’m just trying to survive and avoid getting injured. They’re strong, they’re fast. By the time I turn around, they’re already on the other side, armed with techniques they learned from TV.
Of course, when it doesn’t work, they look at me in surprise, telling me how strong I am and how impressive that is “for my age.”
I caught one of them recently with an Americana from side control, and he had to tap.
That felt like winning one of those Olympic medals I’ve talked about before.
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