My First Tae Kwon Do Tournament

I never thought I would get such pleasure out of watching two grown men kick the living stuffing out of each other. Okay, perhaps I should clarify that statement, lest you think I've suddenly become interested in cage fighting.

My sons have been students at Hanover's Xcel Taekwondo for a few years now. My younger son became interested when he attended "buddy day" at the school, or dojang, with a friend. The owner "Mrs. T" (Kyria Gallagher Takahashi, a nice Irish girl) had an impressive list of medals, awards and accolades, but what impressed me most was the way she handled her class of Little Dragons (kids 6 and under). Trying to corral a group of pre-schoolers is like serving soup with a slotted spoon: it can get very messy. Yet at each class Mrs. T had her students in organized lines, eyes focused on her, following instructions. She’s like a friendly, lovable drill sergeant. My son quickly learned to answer with a loud "Yes Ma'am." My son also learned from "Mr. T" (no gold chains or Mohawk here...and yet I pity the fool who messes with Fabio Takahashi). In addition to learning blocks and kicks, each month the class would focus on words such as self-control, respect and discipline. I quickly realized my son was learning more than just roundhouse kicks and how to count to ten in Korean.

Several months later, my older son, who was adamantly against learning martial arts, decided to give it a try. Too old for the Little Dragons, he joined the class for ages 7 and up. It was immediately apparent that his class was different. He learned a variety of kicks, blocks, self-defense moves and "forms", a series of choreographed moves that made me realize just how ridiculous that old "wax on, wax off" scene in "The Karate Kid” really was. But what threw me was when he would don protective gear to spar with the other students. He looked a bit like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, but without the nasty attitude.

Up to this point my exposure to martial arts had been watching old episodes of "Kung Fu Theater" with my father (and if you've never seen a man with a genius IQ giggle over those badly dubbed films, you're missing out). My husband studied Karate before we met and while we were dating made the ill-fated suggestion that we try Ninjitsu. After realizing I was too creaky to do a forward roll, I gave up Ninjitsu and returned to step aerobics (I may not be stealthy but I can sure keep a beat.) In Taekwondo, sparring is all about the kicks.

Watching my sons spar is both a thrilling and terrifying experience. At the end of the hour they are completely sweaty, so it’s a great workout. However, watching them get nailed in the chest by other students can be a little unnerving. Still, their balance has improved, their confidence has increased and their participation in class and on the school's demonstration team have helped them forge new friendships.

This past weekend, the school sponsored a tournament at the South Shore Vo-Tech. Several of Xcel’s students have participated in tournaments around the country, bringing home gold, silver and bronze medals. When my younger son, now old enough to spar, asked to participate, I agreed.

When we arrived I was floored by the number of competitors, which included a busload of students from Quebec. The Vo-Tech gymnasium had been transformed into a real tournament arena with four separate “rings" allowing for simultaneous competition. The excitement from the competitors and the parents was infectious. I had to remind myself to stay with my son whenever a part of me wanted to wander off and watch something else. Nervously I watched my son do his forms (which yielded a bronze medal) and spar with a member of the French Canadian team (silver medal this time) And while many students left once their event was over, I insisted we stick around to watch some of the adult black belts spar.

Watching my sons spar in class was nothing like watching these guys go at it. Yes they wear pads, and yes there is a referee, but other than that it was like someone had spliced together scenes from "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon", "Gladiator" and "Breakin 2: Electric Boogaloo" (okay, I didn't see that last one...) Some competitors were aggressive and impulsive while others were introspective and strategic. In addition to a flurry of well-placed (and sometimes missed) kicks there were moves designed to fake out the opponent or throw him off balance. There were kicks to the head (the head!) Watching these black belts spar was like watching poetry; granted it was sweaty, violent poetry, but poetry nonetheless. Had I not promised my son a trip to Friendly's, I would have gladly stayed till the last second of the final match.

I hope my kids make it to black belt. I hope they continue to benefit from the confidence and discipline and sportsmanship they learn as part of their training. And I hope that if they do reach the level of black belt, they won’t mind if I shut my eyes when they step into that sparring ring.