Free Memoirs of a Karate Fighter by Ralph Robb Page A

that he was showing off.
    After reluctantly taking turns to dance with the three of us, the girls made out that they were going to “powder their noses” and slipped away. Leslie did not notice; he was too busy talking to the likes of my cousin Trevor and his friend Albert and I knew by the way they were laughing that he was describing the incident on the bus. Up until then I had liked to think that any violent actions of a YMCA member outside the
dojo
were not only justified but admirable. The club we were spending a night in was a testament to the good things karate could produce. Such was the Rising Star’s reputation for now being trouble-free that coach loads of people made round trips of hundreds of miles to spend a Friday or Saturday night at the club. I saw a noble quality in those YMCA men who had sorted out a gang who had defrauded a blind woman of her savings; in the colleague who had saved a life by knocking out the three guys with knives who had just left a man without his spleen; and in the black belt who had beaten a gang leader and ensured that he would enter a plea of guilty for his crimes, as his violent reputation – for grievous bodily harm and rape – had previously intimidated witnesses into not coming to court to give evidence against him.
    The horrified expressions of the two young women as they sat on the backseat of my car stayed with me; like them, I did not think that I had witnessed anything very noble that night.

– Chapter Six –
    You must not be influenced by the opponent. Train diligently.
    Miyamoto Musashi –
The Wind Book
    I HAD RESTED from training for almost two weeks, but I had become so used to exercise that it had become like a drug for me and without it I felt lethargic and dull. So I did not allow myself to go into ‘withdrawal’. I continued to stretch my hamstrings as I moved around my flat because I was not one of nature’s most flexible creatures, – though I did not count that as proper training as I had not broken into a sweat.
    When I finally returned to the
dojo
to train once again, I detected that there was something different about the atmosphere: with only a few days to go until the British championships there was an air of anticipation, rather than apprehension. Excluding myself, everyone looked as fit and as prepared as they could be. Confidence was at its usual high level: the YMCA entered every tournament expecting to win. All that was left now was the selection of the teams. I prepared to hear my name amongst those who would make up the second team but the sensei simply announced all the names of those he wanted to report to the
dojo
on the morning of the championships.
    *
    The British Karate Federation Clubs’ championships were to be held at the Aston Villa Leisure Centre in Birmingham – not much more than twelve miles away – and we had the relative luxury of setting off at 9:00am, instead of at the crack of dawn, as we had to do when travelling to tournaments as far away as Cumbria or Crystal Palace.
    As usual, the schedule was unraveling, and half an hour after the planned departure time I continued to stand, with several others, on the corner where young women had touted for business only hours before. Despite my irritation with the latecomers, I carried on with preparing myself mentally for the upcoming contest and refrained from indulging in the teasing carried out by Leslie, who usually targeted the most nervouslooking amongst us.
    I did feel apprehensive but I still had a positive frame of mind as I had prepared as well as I could despite my injury. It was usual for me to abstain from all my usual vices and have no less than eight hours sleep the night before a competition. In the morning I would always eat a considerable breakfast before setting out, as usually I would not eat for the rest of the day. But the most important part of my preparation was in the hours before a competition, when I always