Free Against All Odds: My Story by Chuck Norris, Abraham Norris, Ken Chuck, Chuck Ken; Norris Abraham, Ken Abraham

the sidelines to watch the other black belts compete. Now that I had become tournament wise, it was a matter of routine for me to study the other competitors. I knew that I might have to confront some of them later on. I watched the way the fighters walked for signs of injury. I observed the way they stretched and warmed up: a kicker warms up with kicks and combinations of kicks, usually working on the one he will use most when under pressure. A fighter with good hand techniques warms up with repetitions and the combinations he favors.
    I studied the losers as well as the winners. The winners were the ones I would probably have to fight. The losers were men I might have to fight in the future. The techniques that fighters implemented, especially the ones with which they scored most often, were my immediate concerns.
    I didn't simply observe the winners and losers. I visualized myself in the ring with whichever man I was watching. I studied his strengths and his weaknesses; I inventoried my own techniques and matched them to his defenses. I visualized myself taking his strengths from him while maintaining my own. If, for example, I could see myself blocking an opponent's powerful side kick and then scoring with my own technique, I knew I would be able to do it when the real match began.
    In competition, as in attempting to reach any goal in life, it's necessary to keep a “big picture” mentality, but the focus must be on the next step, the immediate goal at hand. When I was competing, I took the matches one at a time, concentrating my full energy on the match in which I was competing, not on the Grand Championship. I knew the priority was to beat my first opponent.
    On this day in 1967, I had trained hard, my reflexes were razor sharp, and I was in peak physical and mental condition. I knew what I was going to do against each opponent because I had already visualized my match with each of them in my mind, and I knew their strengths and weaknesses.
    As the tournament progressed, one of the top contenders who emerged was Hiroshi Nakamura, the All-Japan Middleweight champion. I sat on the sidelines watching as Mr. Nakamura methodically eliminated his opponents. A small, powerfully built man, Mr. Nakamura had moves that were smooth and polished, but all of a similar pattern. His specialty was a front kick produced with blinding speed, followed by a straight punch delivered as easily and quickly as a snap of the fingers, only with enormous power.
    I studied him carefully, and I noticed that when I was in the ring, he sat at ringside scrutinizing me. But I had an edge on him; I had studied the Japanese styles of karate, as well as the Korean. I knew what he knew, but he didn't know what I knew!
    Mr. Nakamura wound up winning his division, and I won mine, which meant that after dinner that night, we would face each other for the Middleweight Championship.
    Before dinner I stopped by the washroom. Who should I see but my after-dinner opponent! I approached him and said, “Good luck tonight, Mr. Nakamura.”
    “I think you are going to beat me,” he said bluntly.
    His surprisingly negative attitude took me off guard, and I found myself encouraging my competition. “No, you've got a good chance,” I said. “I've been watching you, and you are very good.”
    Regardless of what I told him, I knew I could beat him because I had already visualized the bout in my mind and was prepared for his attacks. I was also ready for his defenses. Despite this mental exercise of visualization and psyching-up before a bout, there were times when I didn't win, but I always believed that I would.
    Nakamura and I chatted amiably for a few minutes. Normally, I never minded talking to anyone before a contest. No matter what I was doing—having dinner, getting dressed, or wrapping my hands before a fight—I was happy to have a conversation. But this carefree attitude changed instantly once I stepped into the ring. Then my concentration was totally on