Cracking the Black: Thomas McNair

Thomas McNair - circa 15 - photo by Max Kotchouro

Back in 2012, a young man in his early 20’s walked into my school and signed up for classes. He was excited, highly motivated, and ready to train. He had a great attitude and when he was in class, he would work hard. The first few years saw him come and go from classes, consistency was holding him back from advancing beyond blue belt.

Eventually he dedicated himself for a stretch of time that he was able to bench up to green belt, and then he disappeared again. As time passed, he would show up for weeks at a time, coming to 5 or 6 classes per week, and training hard. He would recommit, only to bounce out 4 to 6 weeks later and resurface 3 or 4 months later.

This went on for a time, and it perplexed me. He was a kind soul, with a good sense of humor, and consistently helping other people when he was on the mats, and off. He worked at group homes assisting people unable to assist themselves. Always giving. He would recruit anyone that would listen, to come to classes with us; his friends, significant other, even his own mother (where’s my aleve…?). [inside joke that she’ll appreciate]

In mantis boxing, a majority will make yellow belt, and from there maybe half those will get to blue belt. It’s a lengthy journey, and not everyone can commit to it for years at a time to get there. So when someone makes it to green belt, the odds are greater that they will move through the ranks to black belt. This is not always the case of course, but green belt has many challenges in front of it. Someone has learned to survive as a white belt, honed their defense between yellow and blue belt, and is starting to finally get in stride and see the bigger picture of all these moving parts coming together, so they can begin to develop their own game, or art.

As a teacher, coach, guide on this journey for others, it is difficult to see someone get this far, and then drop off. So this time, I reached out to have a heart to heart and find out what was going on. What did I find? Nothing surprising from a man like Thomas. He was working long hours and almost every day of the week, driving himself into the ground helping others. And he was about to break.

Thomas can do jobs I could never do. Character traits I lack, he seems to naturally possess. This makes him perfectly suited for service fields that require someone dedicate their time to helping others who cannot help themselves. It is a commendable and inspiring vocation. Unfortunately, he was burning out after years of taking care of others, but not himself. Thomas was ready to move to the woods and never talk to another human being again.

We had a long chat about his work, future plans, and where he stood with his training. I asked him if he still wanted to train, and continue on the journey. He said, yes. He wanted to get to black belt, and he really loved martial arts, but he didn’t know how to get back to a place where he could focus on it.

Backing up for a moment, a couple years prior I stopped teaching my kids program. I had burned out and my heart was more into teaching adults at the time. Having taught kids for years, I did not feel I was making an impact on their lives in a positive manner. In those 11 years, I had maybe 3 or 4 kids that successfully made the transition from the kids class to the adult class. I blamed myself for this failing, and decided to walk away for a while and focus strictly on my adult classes, which were doing far better by comparison.

So in our conversation, when Thomas and I were discussing where he was going next in life, I offered to restart the kids program if he would come on board as an instructor to help get it off the ground again. He could continue to help other people, something integral to his core, and simultaneously refocus on his training; taking it to the next level and bringing him a step closer to fulfilling his dreams.

I asked him to think it over, even though he was immediately excited and ready to jump in, just to ensure he was prepared to commit. He was all in, and came back to me with his true path - to become a martial arts instructor as his career.

Since then, Thomas has applied himself diligently to his craft. He has grown not only as a mantis boxer and jiu-jitsu grappler, but as a person. He has matured immensely, evolving from a wanderer, a part-time student of combat sports; to a humble, competent, and effective instructor, coach; and dedicated martial artist. In that transition his skills elevated to a whole new magnitude, to which he later confessed that he had no idea how significantly that - consistency, dedication, perseverance, and effort - would benefit his growth as a fighter, warrior, and human being.

As a coach and teacher, watching these transformations is what makes it all worthwhile. It has been an honor to watch from the sidelines as Thomas stepped up his game and transformed into something he could previously only imagine. He is now, one of four black belts in mantis boxing by my hand. Congratulations, Thomas.

Thomas McNair promoted to Black Belt in Mantis Boxing by Randy Brown on Saturday, December 7, 2019.

photos by Max Kotchouro

Rise from the Ruins: Embarking Into A Dying Art of Boxing

Finding the Mantis

I came across the art of Praying Mantis Boxing in of all places - New Hampshire, USA back in the 1990’s. I was correcting course in my life and on a quest to empower myself with martial arts training and the skills to know how to handle myself. A desire of mine since childhood. I immediately fell in love with the art, even in it’s corroded state.

Sadly, time has not been kind to this, and many other Chinese boxing systems. Much damage has been done over the past century or more, as these arts were no longer used for combat. By the time I began my training, it was difficult to tell what Mantis Boxing was in its original manifestation.

What remained was largely boxing sets (choreographed fighting moves in the air known as forms/kata/taolu), myriad drills, and a plethora of archaic Chinese weapons techniques of a bygone era.

Due to this decayed state my journey early on with this art was difficult and fraught with challenges in finding answers, or seeing an effective use of these movements in sparring/combat. Thankfully, we do have those who carried the torch over hundreds of years; bringing with them the keywords of the style as well as the old ‘boxing sets’ which allow us to view into the past.

I have dedicated over 20 years to mantis boxing, as well as other stand-up fighting arts in a quest to reconstruct the art so that it is intact for my students going forward. Through traveling, studying with experts, training, competing, teaching, sparring, researching; anything I could find that would yield improvements. We move forward with methods so that others, like you, can receive a fighting art that is versatile, effective, and well…quite frankly - RAD!!!

My efforts to ultimately reshape, redefine, and revolutionize the art have created a new version of mantis boxing that is relevant for self-protection in modern times. This last part being of great import to me. I believe any martial art should be applicable and functional. Ensuring not only its own survival for future generations, but also the survival of its practitioners.

BOXING SETS

Throughout my martial arts career I have had many opinions on forms/boxing sets. These viewpoints have shifted like the swirling tides along the rock-strewn coastline of Maine. Early on, when I began my training I was heavily invested in these sets. They were, after all, the primary method of transmission for the art that I chose to study - Tángláng Quán (Praying Mantis Boxing 螳螂拳), and before that, Tae Kwon Do.

Mantis Catches Cicada - circa 1999

Mantis boxing was handed down to me by my early teachers, and their teacher’s before them, with forms as a primary method of transmission. Completely absent of the mechanical inner workings that made these moves functional with live opponents in actual hand-to-hand combat. In all fairness to the first mantis coach I had, was up front with me from the beginning about this. I was under no illusions.

Martial arts forms (kata, tào lù) are more plentiful today than in any time in history. They are widely disseminated in a variety of martial arts schools/styles across the United States, and around the world. A majority of ‘traditional martial arts’ competitions today, are centered around stylists competing with their form of choice. One is hard pressed to enter a school of karate, kung fu; kempo, tae kwon do; or tang soo do, etc. that isn’t consumed by a curricula filled with form after form. Once you complete one form, you’ve earned the ‘privilege’ to learn another...and another...and another.

Years into my training, I went on to scorn these empty shells. For quite some time actually. One reason I held such admonishment toward ‘forms’, was having learned over fifty of them in my first seven years dedicated to wu shu (martial arts) training.

As soon as I would finish one form, I would be handed another; whether by my request for some shiny new toy I was enthralled by, or a suggestion by the instructor(s). It became impossible to remember all of these sets, and far too time consuming to practice them all; little did I understand why at the time.

When it came to fighting and sparring in the martial arts schools I attended, the combative application was entirely disembodied from these forms; like a warrior’s sword detached from it’s handle - once upon a time a dangerous weapon to be feared, now - a toothless tiger.

Crossover from form to fighting never existed in the schools that I trained in. We would warm-up, practice movements, shadow box, and spar the last few minutes. When it came time to spar with classmates, it usually manifested as ‘bad kickboxing’. To be fair to these coaches, their passion lied with what they were teaching - forms, not fighting.

I kept sparring as much as possible, and competing in matches. I became increasingly frustrated over time. I would ask myself - “wasn’t the point of martial arts to learn how to defend yourself? Wasn’t the ultimate goal to become empowered? To know secret ways to disable attackers, fend off bullies, submit miscreants that wish harm upon us, or protect our families?” I was profoundly confused by the training practices I was experiencing, versus what I had envisioned martial arts being meant for.

COMBAT ARMS

Flight School - aka ‘Fight School’ - Alabama 1990

Having been in the military for a short period of my life, I was used to an environment built on training for ‘combat’. We certainly didn’t pretend to drive tanks, or fly invisible helicopters, fire imaginary bullets downrange, or use toy weapons. Lessons on my martial arts path were not adding up with my life experience. Why was a bulk of my time training, just pretending to fight opponents in the air???

While I was stationed in Texas, I briefly undertook the study of taekwondo until my military units’ training schedule was ramped up and I could no longer juggle it in. It was enjoyable at the time, but certainly wasn’t my favorite martial art style. I had a good teacher, and I enjoyed my time there (however brief), but the art was too simple, and too linear for my taste. However, to the instructors credit, in those classes we spent a bulk of our time sparring.

Years later, as I was well into my Chinese martial arts training, I knew something was amiss with the way I was being trained. I tried taking moves from some of the forms I had learned, and experimented with them while sparring in class. This was often met with punishment being doled out by my opponent’s barrage during my risky ventures. Still, I tried to pull them off, but rarely did I find success.

Instead of introducing something new into my game, it became increasingly easier to rely on a few well-timed tricks, and speed/power to overcome my opponents. Sticking to the attacks/counters I was already good at. Reinforcing my current skills rather than growing as a fighter/boxer/martial artist.

Along the way I had decided, with the encouragement, and support of those around me, to become a martial arts teacher for a living. I was instructing at another school while this metamorphosis was taking place, and I opened a school with a friend of mine (2004). Off we went. Things did not improve; quite the opposite actually.

MIRROR INTO THE SOUL

Chris and Vincent - Tournament - Fall 2007

Now that I was teaching others full-time, the disconnect became crystal clear. I no longer had only myself to worry about, but my reflection staring back at me day in and day out. That reflection was my students. The truth became less than encouraging. My students would learn to move, perform cool looking forms, win competitions, but their fighting skills were no match for other martial artists such as boxers, wrestlers, judoka, etc.

I would ask myself - “Why someone taking western boxing for 6 months, could decimate a practitioner from kung fu, karate, kempo, tae kwon do, etc.?” In many cases, the latter had been training for years, or in some case decades.

I was thoroughly frustrated. I could suffer this no longer. We can be either part of the problem, or part of the solution. So I began to change the way I was teaching. I turned the focus of my classes more heavily on qín ná (the Chinese submission art of bone/joint locking and seizing).

In my early training, I had spent 4 years studying this discipline in tandem to my forms regimen. Dedicating multiple hours each week with partners in my first mantis school, and training with friends on the side. I felt better. It wasn’t perfect, but at least this was drilling with live people, and I was giving my students something that felt like martial arts/self-defense, rather than dance.

Jess and Mike - 3 Section vs Staff - 2005

I incorporated more ‘2-person’ hand-to-hand, and weapon sets from kung fu. Again, thinking that at least these had combative moves that involved a live partner to test against. All the while, I was still voraciously searching for answers.

I made it my mission to figure out how these forms worked in fighting; continuing my research; sparring as much as I could with friends that were traditional martial artists, and who were also frustrated by the norm. I turned the pages of tome after tome, reading historical accounts, watching videos. Any sources I could find. I turned my attention and focus to seeking out the core/roots of each system. Then…something enlightening happened.

A pattern began to emerge. I noticed a common theme while traversing my archaeological quest. How these styles began…

• Tángláng Quán - two forms.

• Yīng Zhuǎ - two forms and one partner set.

• Tàijíquán - zero forms.

• Hóng Jiā (Hung Gar 洪家) - one form.

• Bāguà quán (8 Trigrams Boxing 八卦拳) - zero forms.

• Xínyìquán (Intent Boxing 形意拳) - zero forms.

The writing was on the wall. In giant print. None of these styles started out with…so...many...forms. It was now obvious to me what I needed to do. Purge!

I embraced the ‘less is more’ philosophy. Even though, and unbeknownst to me at the time, I was still clinging to too much material. I discarded a bulk of the forms I had learned over the previous seven years. I no longer practiced, or taught them.

I sought out the core forms of the arts that I really enjoyed - Praying Mantis Boxing, Eagle Claw, Tai Chi, and Xing Yi. My intent being to ‘mine’ these forms for applications. To see what the original methods, movements were, so I could reconstruct these arts. Lofty goals to be sure, but I was not to be deterred. I was too invested at this point.

Traditional Long Weapons - Nationals Qualifiers - 2004 - Hershey, PA

After repeated polite inquiries with various mantis boxing teachers around the country, I was rebuffed by taciturn ‘masters’ unwilling to share their art. They behaved as if these forms were valuable magical secrets. As if I was asking for their priceless gems.

These teachers clearly coveted their core forms, like a mage who possessively guards their spellbook. I truly failed to comprehend why teachers were so disinterested in...teaching. I was ready and willing to learn! Why were they not helping me?

I had been learning forms a dime a dozen over the years, why were these such prized antiquities? Instead of welcoming an interested student, people were possessive; greedy, condescending, and cold. Again, rebuffing my ideals of what a martial artist is about.

During my journey, I learned that one “Grand Master” went so far as to try and sue people for stealing his forms. His organization actually attempted to copyright them. Other’s demarcated forms with fake moves so they would know when someone ‘stole’ it from a video, demonstration, or tournament. Marring the art, and further tainting it from its original intent and true purpose. This was chaos incarnate, and I simply did not understand it.

Martial arts in general, and forms specifically, are not something one can ‘steal’. One can copy someone’s form, but if the ‘thief’ does not do the work, or fails to comprehend the intent of the moves within, they have no score.

If the purported burglar does the work - learns it, trains it, tries to perfect it; studies it thoroughly, then they have been taught. Perhaps, without them knowing they’ve been taught. As a teacher, or even a practitioner that wants their art to survive, is that not our ultimate goal and purpose?

Snakes Creeps Down (low single whip) Taijiquan demo - circa 2006

I continued on. I was teaching Tai Chi, and finding it difficult to find any sort of consistency from one person to the next when it came to the movements. Additionally, I could find no one that knew what these moves did, so there was no litmus test to know if a movement was ‘right’, or ‘wrong’. Every reason someone had, seemed esoteric, and subjective. Like judging dance, or art.

Xingyiquan was another focus of mine during this time. I enjoyed the premise behind it. I was told it was highly destructive, energetic, explosive, and aggressive. That it was a badass style of Chinese boxing. I was into that! A coach that introduced me to it, thought it would be a good fit for my…temperament.

Again, it seemed like the standards for success in xingyi, were completely arbitrary. The only ‘depth’ I was finding, was “sit in your san ti (3 dimensional shape) stance for 30 minutes a day.” Aside from that, I wasn’t told how to fix anything, or how to get better at xingyi. Later I realized - because you need to HIT things to really get it!!!

I sought out more coaches in these arts. I was successful in finding a tàijíquán/xingyiquan ‘master’; or so I thought. I attended one of his New England workshops and saw a glimpse of some power generation techniques in his Xing Yi that was of interest to me. I was told “he knows his stuff.” I thought there was something there, so I delved deeper.

I cobbled together some money and traveled to NYC to train with him. I hosted him for a few days at my house and school to help him share his art with my students. To hopefully glean greater technical knowledge from him on how these two arts functioned in combat.

It turned out to be forms, and hocus pocus. The tàijíquán was more incessant drumming of the most mundane minutiae. Where the hands should be aligned to maximize the ‘chi’. How one’s thumb position next to the quadricep was somehow important for mystical energy alignment. No accompanying demonstration of combat application to show why this mattered; nevermind how it was relevant in a real fight.

The renowned xingyiquan, a style known for its destructive capacity, and reputation for general badassery, was also more ‘air-fu’ (martial arts done in the air). Never hitting a punching bag, or pad. Never sparring. Never blocking and hitting. Just more chi (cheese). More pseudo-science. More nonsense. I left it behind.

In addition to the aforementioned individuals foul bathroom habits, and erratic/obnoxious behaviors, this arrangement was not working out to my satisfaction. Could ‘anyone’ in Chinese martial arts actually fight? Using Chinese martial arts techniques? I was growing more and more disenchanted.

Staff vs Staff - circa 2006

I returned to my research and training. Buying any books I could find. I read over 100 books on Tàijíquán, most of them a complete waste of time. It’s amazing how many words have been written about nothing.

I found the other arts lacking in content altogether. At least to my favor, tàijíquán is well documented. The most widely proliferated Chinese martial art in existence. Unfortunately, much of this is without practical meaning, and comprised mostly of esoteric beliefs, or lacking clarity of purpose. Whether this is intentional, or through innocent ignorance is certainly a matter of debate.

I took to searching for videos of the core forms of the styles I had chosen. For mantis boxing, I was able to find one of Bēng Bù (Crushing Step), but had no such luck with Lán Jié (to Intercept 拦截) , or Bā Zhǒu (8 Elbows 八肘). I ordered videos from China, familiarizing myself with the Chinese characters enough that I could search for books and VCD’s containing these sets, or anything close to them. I signed up for a Chinese class to assist in my quest.

My language venture did not last long. It turned out to be the same misguided approach to teaching language that is rampant in public, private, and even collegiate school systems across America even to this day. Grammar first. Years go by, and one is still unable to speak fluently, or converse with a native speaker. It is odd, that this failure of a student to speak, is not a measure of success for a language arts curriculum, or a teacher’s capabilities...

I digress. It so happened that in my research, I had come across an excellent resource of knowledge - an online forum for mantis boxers. Rich, and fascinating conversations took place in this venue, people seemed to be sharing knowledge and communicating their ‘secrets’ without reservation. I visited it from time to time, never saying much as they seemed far more knowledgeable than I; and there existed an hierarchy of lineage holders that I was not part of.

One day, I read a thread where an individual was chastising and insulting anyone who learned from a video. This individual was particularly demeaning, condescending, and harsh in their criticism. Stating matter of factly, that “anyone interested in learning mantis should only be doing so from qualified teachers; certainly not from video!!!”

This infuriated me. Who was this person to dismiss one of the three ‘primary methods of human learning’ (verbal, kinesthetic, and visual)? What position of expertise did they hold in life to stand up and blatantly proclaim that personal instruction (which I had experienced plenty of), was the ONLY way someone should, or could, properly learn. I balked at this notion. I broke my silence and chimed in.

My response was snarky; full of contempt. I no longer cared who held what position, or however ‘exalted’ they seemed to be. I had too many years of feeling like I had been duped. I rose up upon my soapbox and fired back my reply - “blah, blah, blah, - insert stuff about learning types and video being a modern tool to assist people, - blah, blah, blah”. Then (I paraphrase here) - “perhaps if you mantis masters were not so rude and possessive with your forms, those of us whom you shun, would study from you, rather than be forced to pick scraps from videos.”

Shortly thereafter, I had a reply to my post in the thread. I opened it, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I awaited the inevitable online battle that was sure to ensue. Knowing, full well, some virtual vitriolic response from the original author of the post was there unopened in my inbox. Instead, I was greeted with - “Come to San Diego. I’ll show you the core forms of mantis.”

What!?!?!?! I was stunned. Stopped dead in my tracks. This was not at all what I expected. Who was this person? What did they know? Why were they so quick to offer and share what everyone else tried to hide?

Mantis Boxing set - Báiyuán Tōu Táo (White Ape Steals Peach 白猿偷桃) - 2006

I looked at the member profile. They were a member for years, yet barely posted a thing. I found a name. I Googled it. Nothing (Google was in it’s infancy then). I searched further; looking deeper. I finally found some grainy black and white videos of this Mantis Boxer doing the form Bā Zhǒu (8 Elbows 八肘), and another of one of his black belts doing Tōu Táo (Monkey Steals the Peach 猴子偷桃).

I could tell from the way they moved that they knew how to fight. I replied. “I’m interested. Let’s discuss.” Phone numbers were exchanged. A time set to talk. After an hour or so long phone call, and a lengthy discussion on his background, methods of teaching, and why he only works the core forms of Mantis, I booked a flight and hotel to San Diego, CA. Off I went.

I never looked back. In my first 15 minutes of meeting with this mantis boxer, I learned more about ‘fighting’ than I had in 7 years of kung fu training.

“Where do you look when you fight?”, he asked. I thought about it, and replied with “I look off to the side of my opponent.” He paused, a quizzical look on his face. Apparently he hadn’t expected that response. Then came his reply - “Not at them?” I said, “No, but I’ve been told all things of the sort - look in their eyes. Watch their head…” He asked me why I look off to the side. “It’s just something I do.” I replied. “It seems to work better for blocking.” He grinned.

“You’ve figured something out”, was his response. This made me feel good. I was eager to hear more. He proceeded to explain the reason behind why I was doing this, why it worked, and drills to prove it. Beyond that, he offered up the name of a ‘principle’ to go along with it. I was ecstatic. This was amazing! I had never experienced such a thing in martial arts; neither kung fu, nor tae kwon do. A ‘principle’ to teach fighting!?!?!

We then proceeded outside to work on Bēng Bù, a form from mantis boxing, and the one I was already familiar with. I was more interested in Lán Jié, since I had been unable to find anything solid on this form. However, being one of the core forms of Mantis that I already knew, it was a good launch point and gave us a way to see what one another knew.

We spent the next couple hours training in the parking lot of my hotel in the middle of the night, and well into the next morning. He left for home, and I spent the next hour scrambling notes and trying to calm down enough to sleep.

Qín Ná (Capture and Seize 擒拿) training - circa 2000

The next day we met for training around 9 a.m. We spent hours in the park, going over mantis boxing’s Lán Jié (to intercept 拦截) - as well as an application for each move. I was ecstatic and soaking it up like a sponge. We broke for lunch in the early afternoon and then met up with some of his students at his house. Training went well into the night again.

He asked - “How did you learn to block punches?” I stood there for a moment, realizing how little I had been taught on this. Most of my experience with blocking had been from taekwondo. I replied with something that I can no longer recall, but surely it was meek.

He had me pair up with one of his students to show him how I block. I was not allowed to move, and his student was to throw slow, controlled punches while I demonstrate my blocking skills. He destroyed me.

I blocked one or two shots, and then I was lucky to block one of every five after that. His student, had only been training 1.5 years. I was on my 7th year of training. Countless trophies under my belt, and a National 2x Gold, 1x Silver Medalist. I was running my own martial arts school, with a cadre of dedicated students looking to me to teach them how to defend themselves. This was humiliating, demoralizing, and excruciatingly raw. I felt like a novice. I felt as if I had wasted all my efforts. Years of training had been for nothing.

Right then and there, I had a choice to make. I could leave. Throw my hands up in defeat and walk away; quitting martial arts altogether. Or…I could do something less extreme - go home. Go home and lie to myself that I did fine. That he cheated, or that he did something nefarious to trick me. Pretend I was better than I was.

I looked at his student. Then turned my gaze upon the teacher as he stood there quietly gauging my reaction. My brow furrowed, I looked him in the eye with all my will behind me, and said - “teach me.”

Nationals Qualifier 2004 - Eagle Claw Form - Traditional Hand Forms. Hershey, Pennsylvania

To be fair, and honest, this was a bit of a rigged game. I wasn’t allowed to counter-strike, move, kick, clinch, or takedown. Real fighting, does not subsist with such a ruleset. Just blocking for any length of time is a failed strategy. One should be delivering parry/counter, block/counter, move/counter, etc. But the lesson hit home nonetheless.

I revisited everything I thought I knew, from the ground up. Asking him to go over stances, footwork, punching; anything I had already learned, or thought I learned. I wanted to know what was missing. The rest of the weekend turned to working on everything but, a form. He had to keep asking me - “Don’t you want to learn this form you came for?” [With a grin on his face of course.]

I spent the next few years going to San Diego twice/year, flying this coach to my school once/year. I met up with him at other people’s schools just to squeeze in whatever training I could get with him. Here was someone that knew how to fight, and did Chinese martial arts. I was all aboard.

As far as forms go, I learned Lán Jié, Bēng Bù (again), Báiyuán Tōu Táo (White Ape Steals Peach), 5th Son Staff, Saber, Da Dao (Military Saber), and a couple of 8-Step Mantis forms. I also learned how to block, punch, kick, and move; as well as throws, joint locks, and his core fighting principles to diagnose problems we have when sparring.

He helped me fix some forms I still held onto such as liánbùquán, and gongliquan, and my tai chi knowledge grew deeper and richer. As time went on, I had so much practical knowledge to work, the forms seemed superfluous, and nothing more than distractions.

I progressed, and my students became more and more in need of real skills. I went on to scorn forms in full force. Thinking them unnecessary, archaic, and highly corrupted distractions. Time-sucks that stole focus away from the more important aspects of martial arts - application, combat techniques, and self-defense skills.

Regardless of my disappointment and waning interest in forms, throughout it all, some part deep inside of me always held on to the notion that they are significant, important, and central to the art. Not in the possessive covetous way other teachers hold on to them, but in some more intrinsically valuable way.

Afterall, why were these core sets so important as to be handed down no matter what line of Mantis one studied? Why did the same set, with variations of course, exist across multiple lines in the family tree of Mantis Boxing? Why did almost every style of Chinese boxing have a ‘set’, or ‘sets’?

Ultimately I came to the realization that forms are treasure troves of knowledge. Ancient vehicles designed to carry the knowledge of a fighter’s system. Without the techniques, principles, and applications to go along with it however, or the work ethic to practice them tirelessly, they are worthless shells of long forgotten arts. The form, cannot exist without the function.

Without function, martial arts forms are merely martial dance. A non-practical artistic representation of a bygone mode of combat, and self-defense. There is nothing whatsoever wrong with people wanting to participate in the practice of this ‘dance’. It is only problematic when they believe, or are allowed to believe, that this practice of shadow boxing, will lead to the attainment of ‘real’ fighting skills.

In today’s world of video, books, a literate populace due to mass education, and the accessibility of martial arts schools and resources, forms are no longer necessary for a teacher to carry on an art of hand-to-hand, or weapons combat. As evidenced by judo, jiu-jitsu, muay thai, wrestling, filipino stick/knife arts, boxing, and more. All existing without the need for forms to muddy up the waters, or distract students from the true goal of martial arts - the dedicated practice of methods of violence to empower, embolden, and strengthen themselves out of immediate necessity, or the potential threat of such.

What is sorely needed for Chinese boxing to regain its rightful place on the mantle of formidable martial arts in the world of today is - less forms. More techniques. More application, and definitely more sparring.

The Tiger Tail - My Most Hated Throw!!!

This was truly one of my most hated throws. In 2009, on one of my semi-annual sojourns to San Diego to train with my Mantis Boxing coach at the time, I was introduced to this personal menace known as a ‘thigh lift throw’, or in Judo - ‘uchi mata’.

The primary purpose of this trip, was for my teacher to share with me the 20 throws of Mantis Boxing that his 8-Step Mantis Boxing teacher had shared with him. We were to meet up with another of his Black Belt's - Mike Dasargo, and work on these techniques at Mike's school. 

As the coach would show each throw, Mike and I would work on them together, and I would scribble notes down as we went. Doing my best to catalog each throw and its variations. As the day went on, we finally arrived on the ‘thigh lift throw’, what I have affectionately named the Tiger Tail Throw (as it looks like the tail of a tiger sticking up). A ferocious takedown. 

I don't know what it was, but this throw was the single most difficult one for me to get. Maybe I was getting hungry, or having a 'short day' (sarcastic reference to my height), but this one was just not clicking. It seemed like a throw for taller people; at least that was my whiny excuse at the time. I took it down my notes, maybe even left a nasty comment in there, practiced a bit more, and moved on.

When I returned from San Diego, my ritual was to work on everything I did on the trip as soon as possible, so I would not lose it. I practiced this throw along with all the all 19 other throws even though I didn't care for it. 

I'm not sure what happened next, but eventually, this throw became one of my favorite takedowns in Mantis Boxing, and probably the one I use with the highest frequency. Most likely...since I worked on it more than all of the others because of the difficulty I had with it, it began to morph and I adapted to it, and it to me.

In this video, I'm not only sharing the Tiger Tail Throw with you, but additionally the alternative throws (Descending Dragon, Demon Wheel, Retreat Astride Tiger, Mantis Hangs from Branch), Knee Strikes, Guillotine Chokes, that I use when someone counters this throw, or I miss on the execution.

Timestamps:
Tiger Tail Throw - (2:05)
Descending Dragon Takedown - (5:39)
Demon Wheel & Guillotine Choke - (7:00)
Knee Strike & Shoulder Lock - (8:02) 
Retreat Astride Tiger - (8:50)
Mantis Hangs from Branch - (10:40)

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How to Start Martial Arts

How to get started in martial arts. Here are some tips and advice on what to look out for as you search for your first, or subsequent martial arts school.

Enjoy the sound effects. [Gunshots were not an intentional part of the production]

Swamp Talks - Episode 01 - How to Start Martial Arts This was one of the more common questions we received, and super important for people. Your first school can make or break you in your martial arts endeavor. It is important to search around and try different places before signing up.

Types of martial arts vary, but this can apply to any of them. Here is a list of some of the more common styles you may find in your quest in the USA:

• Boxing (western and Chinese) - often depicted in modern times as the sport with two contestants wearing trunks and padded gloves facing off in a ring. Original roots encompass a far broader definition that included grappling, and weapons. Something more similar with Chinese boxing styles like mantis, eagle claw which include kicking, grappling, and joint locks/chokes/submissions in addition to striking with fists, palms, fingers, and elbows.

• Kickboxing - a combination of striking and kicking. Also more sport oriented with rules to protect combatants from serious injury.

• Wrestling - as with boxing, in modern times this calls forth distinct imagery in our minds of two combatants on a mat grappling one another to the ground and looking for a pin. Wrestling’s roots are far more pervasive and have origins to every continent on the globe. Greco-Roman which is more common in our minds today, to catch wrestling, to folk-style wrestling that changes slightly from culture to culture whether in Asia, Europe, Africa, or the Americas.

• Jiu-Jitsu (Brazilian and Japanese) - jiu-jitsu origins hearkens back to the combat arts of the samurai which included but were not limited to hand-to-hand combat methods such as throws, joint locks, and ground finishing moves (submissions). Eventually this migrated to Brazil in the 1900’s where it was blended with catch-wrestling methods and focused more heavily on the ground fighting component of hand-to-hand combat.

• Judo - a descendant of Japanese jiu-jitsu that focused on the grappling and ground fighting elements of jiu-jitsu.

• Karate - an Okinawan fighting art that originated by blending methods from Southern China with the indigenous grappling methods of the Okinawan people. Also included weapons in addition to hand-to-hand combat applications.

• Shuai Jiao - a Chinese throwing art similar to Judo but lacking the ground fighting elements. Descendant from Bokh, and other folk wrestling styles found in Mongolia and northeast Asia.

• Tae Kwon Do - a Korean martial art developed in the mid 1900’s that focuses heavily on kicking.

• Hapkido - also a Korean martial art that focuses more on locking and throwing methods.

• Aikido - a Japanese martial art centered around falling, throwing, and locking an opponent.

• Tai Chi - an old style of Chinese boxing that has been converted to a form of health practice and physical education since the early 1900’s. Prior to that it was a hand-to-hand combat art that included striking, kicking, throwing, and joint locking/chokes.

• Kempo - an American martial art that early on focused on practical self-defense. Combined methods from all forms of Asian fighting arts as well as boxing and kickboxing.

• Krav Maga - an Israeli hand-to-hand combat system designed specifically for commandos/special forces. Techniques are straightforward and practical, relying heavily on strength and speed to overwhelm the opponent.