Free Against All Odds: My Story by Chuck Norris, Abraham Norris, Ken Chuck, Chuck Ken; Norris Abraham, Ken Abraham Page B
hajime! The fight was on, and it was fast and furious. Joe jumped out in front by nailing me early with a side kick to my ribs. After that it was a fight to the finish. I finally scored on him to tie the match, then just as time was running out, I caught him again with a back fist to the face. When the dust cleared, I had won the match by one point and was awarded the All-American Grand Championship trophy.
I was almost too exhausted to celebrate my victory. I had been fighting since eight o'clock that morning and had faced thirteen strong, agile opponents in eleven hours. All I wanted was a hot shower and a good night's sleep.
But as I was leaving the stadium, Bruce Lee, one of the best-known martial artists in the world at that time, came over to congratulate me. I knew of Bruce, but we had never met. I had seen him put on a terrific demonstration at the Internationals in 1964, and I was familiar with his work as an actor on the Green Hornet television series.
Bruce was extremely complimentary of my skills, recognizing what a feat it had been to snatch the victory away from Joe in the final moments of the Grand Championship. We talked amiably for a while, and after discovering that we were staying at the same hotel, we walked back together, talking all the way about martial arts and our philosophies. We were still deeply involved in conversation as the elevator whisked us up to our rooms. We stopped on Bruce's floor, and I stepped out with him.
It was already close to midnight, but we were so engrossed in our conversation, we continued exchanging martial arts techniques right there in the hallway! The next time I looked at my watch, it was 4:00 AM! We had worked out together for four hours! Bruce was so dynamic that it had seemed like only twenty minutes. It's a wonder that someone didn't call hotel security about the two maniacs out there tossing each other around in the hotel hallway!
Not long after that, Bruce invited me to work out with him in the backyard of his home in Culver City, California. Bruce had all sorts of training equipment out in the yard, including a wooden practice dummy—complete with sticks for arms, legs, and feet—that looked as though he'd made it himself, a straw-padded striking post to practice punches, padded chest protectors, and boxing gloves. We trained twice a week for three or four hours per session. Bruce taught me some of his trademark kung fu techniques, and in turn I taught him some high-kicking tae kwon do moves. Bruce had never believed in kicking above the waist, but when I demonstrated some high spinning heel kicks, he was intrigued. Within six months he could perform the high kicks as well as I could and added them to his repertoire with tremendous proficiency. Bruce was an extremely capable and knowledgeable martial artist and, pound for pound, one of the strongest men I've ever known.
His strongest attribute and his greatest fault, perhaps, were one and the same: Bruce Lee lived and breathed the martial arts. He turned even the most mundane, ordinary aspects of life into some sort of training. I'm not certain he ever knew how to relax.
We became good friends, close enough for him to share his dream with me. “Chuck, I want to be a film star,” he told me. “Everything I do is a stepping-stone toward that goal.” Indeed, Bruce was already teaching martial arts to a number of private students, including NBA basketball great, Kareem Abdul-Jabarr, and several high-profile Hollywood film stars, such as James Coburn, Lee Marvin, and Steve McQueen. His students often recommended Bruce for work in films, and Bruce had worked as a stunt coordinator on several. But Bruce wasn't satisfied to be behind the camera. He wanted his name up in lights. As driven as Bruce was, I had no doubt that he would become a major star.
CHAPTER 10
HUMBLE SPIRIT; WARRIOR'S HEART
I was scheduled to fight again in the Internationals on August 12, 1967. The previous year I had won the middleweight
I was almost too exhausted to celebrate my victory. I had been fighting since eight o'clock that morning and had faced thirteen strong, agile opponents in eleven hours. All I wanted was a hot shower and a good night's sleep.
But as I was leaving the stadium, Bruce Lee, one of the best-known martial artists in the world at that time, came over to congratulate me. I knew of Bruce, but we had never met. I had seen him put on a terrific demonstration at the Internationals in 1964, and I was familiar with his work as an actor on the Green Hornet television series.
Bruce was extremely complimentary of my skills, recognizing what a feat it had been to snatch the victory away from Joe in the final moments of the Grand Championship. We talked amiably for a while, and after discovering that we were staying at the same hotel, we walked back together, talking all the way about martial arts and our philosophies. We were still deeply involved in conversation as the elevator whisked us up to our rooms. We stopped on Bruce's floor, and I stepped out with him.
It was already close to midnight, but we were so engrossed in our conversation, we continued exchanging martial arts techniques right there in the hallway! The next time I looked at my watch, it was 4:00 AM! We had worked out together for four hours! Bruce was so dynamic that it had seemed like only twenty minutes. It's a wonder that someone didn't call hotel security about the two maniacs out there tossing each other around in the hotel hallway!
Not long after that, Bruce invited me to work out with him in the backyard of his home in Culver City, California. Bruce had all sorts of training equipment out in the yard, including a wooden practice dummy—complete with sticks for arms, legs, and feet—that looked as though he'd made it himself, a straw-padded striking post to practice punches, padded chest protectors, and boxing gloves. We trained twice a week for three or four hours per session. Bruce taught me some of his trademark kung fu techniques, and in turn I taught him some high-kicking tae kwon do moves. Bruce had never believed in kicking above the waist, but when I demonstrated some high spinning heel kicks, he was intrigued. Within six months he could perform the high kicks as well as I could and added them to his repertoire with tremendous proficiency. Bruce was an extremely capable and knowledgeable martial artist and, pound for pound, one of the strongest men I've ever known.
His strongest attribute and his greatest fault, perhaps, were one and the same: Bruce Lee lived and breathed the martial arts. He turned even the most mundane, ordinary aspects of life into some sort of training. I'm not certain he ever knew how to relax.
We became good friends, close enough for him to share his dream with me. “Chuck, I want to be a film star,” he told me. “Everything I do is a stepping-stone toward that goal.” Indeed, Bruce was already teaching martial arts to a number of private students, including NBA basketball great, Kareem Abdul-Jabarr, and several high-profile Hollywood film stars, such as James Coburn, Lee Marvin, and Steve McQueen. His students often recommended Bruce for work in films, and Bruce had worked as a stunt coordinator on several. But Bruce wasn't satisfied to be behind the camera. He wanted his name up in lights. As driven as Bruce was, I had no doubt that he would become a major star.
CHAPTER 10
HUMBLE SPIRIT; WARRIOR'S HEART
I was scheduled to fight again in the Internationals on August 12, 1967. The previous year I had won the middleweight
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