SGS Krav Maga, Sydney
Lance Manley- P4
Monday 21st November
Second city on my tour of Australia was Sydney and after a week staying in a youth hostel when I really, REALLY shouldn’t have, I looked up an old friend who said she had a spare room and I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted to, including house sitting for her over Xmas while she visited her sis in Thailand.
There are quite a few Krav Maga clubs in Sydney and a whole load are affiliated to KMG, the parent company I’m membered to. I found one called SGS in a place called Hurstville run by a G3 instructor named Steven Kratsas and he invited me to come and train with him the following Monday.
The club was slightly different to others I’ve trained in, mainly because the lessons are 2 hours long. The other difference was that they train 3 days a week on Monday & Wednesday evenings as well as 9 to 11 on Sunday mornings.
When I got there there were a lot of young students there and one surprise was that the majority were female. Steve told me later that a lot of them were their due to their parents suggesting it and many were still in High school, with some as young as 15.
The club itself is on a small industrial estate, at the back of a residential district. The Warm Up involved running two laps around the block then coming back for some serious stretching. Apart from Steven there are other instructors, two of which were training that day. Margarita and Charlie recently took the GIC and Charlie led the lesson for some of the time.
The main work out was focused on grading material, as the club were looking forward to a P level testing on December 11th. My lack of regular training revealed itself when I was attempting to do an arm/leg roundhouse block (the one where you put your elbow on your knee) and I felt like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz when he seized up due to lack of lubrication.
After the main stint we then moved outside for a new twist on a theme. The main area is full of lovely, hard, concrete walls and Steven got us to pretend to be using a cashpoint or ATM when someone came up behind us and attempted to fling us face first into the wall. The reaction to this is to fling your hands up, elbows bent and let your forehead smack into the back of your hands. The delicious part was the follow up where you then do a 180 on their ass, and smack THEIR face into the wall. Me and my partner were next to two Asian girls who appeared to be really going for it, even though they obviously friends in “real life”.
Afterwards we did a drill I’d not practiced before where we all had to lie in a circle, on our backs and raise and lower our straightened legs (without letting them touch the floor) to the music playing over the PA which had the lyrics “up and down” scattered throughout. This was painful in the extreme and harked back to what I call Tourette’s Corner from gradings (everyone’s knackered and sweaty and they STILL make you do 50+ push ups/ sit ups/ burpees meaning there is a lot of swearing and grunting).
I was aching afterwards but, while limping back to Hurstville train station, it felt good to have practiced new stuff in a new club in a new country.
Sunday 27th November
I got up at the unholy hour of 6.20am to get to training, as the class was going to kick off at 9. While public transport in Sydney is fab (the joys of a ‘pay as you go’ Opal travel card) SGS is still a hike from where I was staying and I arrived at 8.45 to find a couple of other tired looking students waiting for the door to open. This time the instructor was a new guy I’d not seen before named Gianni. The attendance was smaller but we got stuck into some serious revision and kick based training. It turned out that Steven had broken his toe the previous Monday while blocking a roundhouse kick so was still involved but a little more subdued than normal.
There was a lot of talk about the upcoming grading again with both Steven and Gianni stressing to the students the importance of getting things down correctly. Steven gave an example of how a bad technique may be ignored on P1; would be criticised on P2; would cost you points on P3 and 4…but could cost you your patch on a P5 (something I’ve experienced personally).
Monday 28th November 2016
Having trained for 2 hours the day before, I wasn’t exactly skipping down the road the next day when I set off for the Monday night’s session. I’ve taken up Yoga recently and found a great video on YouTube specifically for the lower back and hips. A knee operation in September 2015 means that I am very stiff on my left side so I try to keep on top of my own mobility.
The club was busy again and there was probably about 25 guys in the room, including a lot of girls again. After the requisite laps around the industrial park and warm up, Steven got Margarita to lead the first part of the lesson and then we moved into the wonderful world of the pre-emptive strike.
Now, coming from a country like England where the laws on reasonable force are still grounded in the idea of a Victorian gentleman...pre-emptive strike, even in the UK, means that if you genuinely believe you are about to be attacked then you can hit first. We did some fun role plays where me and my partner had to do what Rory Miller calls “The Monkey Dance” and get in the other guy’s face, pushing the chest. Steven said to elicit a verbal response and THEN hit to the jaw. The idea is that your antagonist is a). Distracted and b). Their mouth is open meaning their jaw is relaxed and you are more likely to do damage to their face with a well placed sock in the chops (1960s, “Good to his mum”, London gangster Reggie Kray used to call this the “cigarette punch “ apparently). The alternative to this was to ask a question of your attacker, such as “What’s 91 + 13?” and a split second later throw a punch as they will again be momentarily distracted and engaging the “other” part of their brain to process what you said.
When we moved into groups of 3, I turned to the girl stood next to us and asked if she’d like to join. She looked a bit nervous and pointed out she was 15 and newbie but got stuck in to the scenarios no problem. Had to admire her gumption as I have had massive anxiety issues in the past with Krav and if I’d been in my second week training with two guys old enough to be my dad, I don’t think I’d have taken it as calmly as she did.
We moved outside and had to do “protecting 3rd party” where someone is trying to hit a “friend” of ours while we try and prevent it. This was designed to make us realize that thumping interventionists is not a nice thing to do, no matter how irritating they may be. We then switched to trying to stop the person being attacked from hitting their attacker (as in “leave it mate, he’s not worth it!”).
Then we had the icing on the cake.
Steven had talked about a little thing named Waterboarding from KMG's Combat Mindset & Mental Conditioning seminar and asked for a show of hands for those who wanted to try it. Only time I’d heard this expression used before was in tales of Guantanamo bay. I volunteered along with about half of the group. We went outside while Margarita and Steven filled plastic buckets with water and Steven fetched some dry T-shirts out the stores. He told us that the T-shirt would be dipped in the bucket and then placed over our faces from behind and secured by the sleeves behind our necks by one partner. We had to blindly hit at a strike shield being held by the other person, and every so often Steven would walk up and pour a bottle of water over the T-shirt to simulate the feeling of drowning.
The other guy in our 3 took it really well and lasted the course and I (in just my shorts and shoes) got ready for my go. As a scuba diver I’m bothered too much about the wet, clammy sensation of fabric over my face. While uncomfortable it was still possible to breathe relatively easily. When Steven shouted “GO!” I began punching and after a few seconds felt the water being poured over my head.
Part of my brain was telling me that this was just a drill, that I was perfectly safe and that I wasn’t REALLY going to drown. However a much more primal part of my brain leapt up from its cave and shrieked like a wounded animal before bolting into the darkest recesses of the jungle. Within about 15 seconds I couldn’t take it any more and ripped off the T-shirt, gasping for breath. The guy behind me who’d been holding the shirt smiled and encouraged me to go back in. I pulled the hood back on and began punching again but pretty quickly Steven called time and we switched positions.
The girl we were with then had a go and lasted nearly the whole minute before stopping. Kudos again as she remained calm and overcame the panic reflex, despite this being her first go as well. As there was a group of four people, Steven then asked if anyone wanted another go while their 4th guy took his turn and I went in again, this time lasting the whole minute, despite the primal animal within me still hiding in the jungle and wailing, albeit with slightly less volume than before.
Soaking wet we lined up for the final Kida and then made our way out.
Superb training and a great club and it’s been a privilege learning with SGS.