-23

i remember being kicked in the balls
i used to do karate. i was quite good at it. our sensei was a south african who looked like peter fonda, he was a stickler for the ritual and tradition of the martial arts and it was this that i loved. alongside learning how to kick, punch, block, throw and fall we would learn about zen philosophy, we would learn to meditate. he would tell us about acupuncture and calligraphy.
i enjoyed the meditation sessions (though i was never keen on the kneeling down part as my knees always felt like they were going to pop), there were a few moments where i reached a certain level of peacefulness that were wonderful, but they were fleeting.
what i liked most of all was doing katas. i loved doing them. it is the closest i have ever come to being coordinated. knowing where everything was going to be from start to finish. i still get a thrill watching martial arts movies where they do their practice form (pretty much in all martial arts movies except those of the later seagal and van damme).
one day he decided that we would all spar, and that the sparring would be as close to real fighting as possible. so not fancy moves just what we would do to get out of trouble if we were in a fight. we had all done a bunch of fights with him walking around watching. then he decided that the sparring would take place with everyone watching. we all had turns.
up i go. up comes my opponent. we circle each other. he lets fly with a front kick to the stomach. i block and step forward for a punch. he blocks that. we go back to circling. this time i kick for the stomach. he blocks me and kicks. i block. he kicks again i back up and block. he blocks my punch and kick combination. it is all pedestrian stuff. nothing fancy. front kicks, front punches. strong blocks. we don’t notice it but we fall into a rhythm of the attacks, i block and attack, he blocks and attacks and i block and attack. even worse we are not varying our attacks that much. we are like a pair of modern dancers.
my concentration slips. i miss a block.
thwack. foot into balls. dead centre. i drop like a sack of spuds. before i hit the ground the sensei has caught me and is laying me on my back and with a few quick strokes of his hands along my sides most of the pain has gone (i have no idea if he was touching the right pressure points to relieve ball ache or it was just because i was ticklish and that took my mind off of it).
i sat the rest of the bouts out.
i walked funny for a couple of days.
so take it from me – don’t try this at home folks.