It may have been the late supper or my reflection on how the games had changed; comparing the Chariots of Fire when Abrahams and Liddell proved themselves the fastest men on the planet, to Beijing with all the razzmatazz and fireworks both real and digital. At any rate that night I had a dream. Usually my dreams are simply manifestations of a disturbed mind and far too fragmented to make any sense. However this one should be discussed with my analyst. What am I saying as a tritsosaphrenic I am my analyst.
It was 2012. Our British judo contenders were in good form and then disaster struck. Our best Olympic prospect, the super heavyweight had overdosed on chocolate buttons. How was he to know that they were made from Free Trade cocoa derived from unadulterated cocoa beans? When he fell asleep during an “A” Tournament contest, the officials had no choice; they had to give him a drug test. Naturally he failed. Who wouldn’t if they ate 6 monster packs of chocolate buttons as a snack? Such bad luck to fall fowl of the I.O.C’s rationalisation program. Since professional tennis players and footballers had been admitted to the games, it seemed irrational to keep out Amir Khan and other professional boxers from competing. Likewise Tiger Woods was favourite to win the golf. The concept of amateur sport had long been committed to the recycle bin, together with the banning of performance enhancing drugs. (They had been too difficult to police in any case.) However cocoa was easy to police, it was like issuing parking tickets. But I digress. What were the British Judo Selectors to do? Who else would stand a chance against the monsters in the super heavy weight division?
It was Colin Draycott, IJF Director of Ethics that came up with the idea. “Let’s enter Danny Da Costa” Surely he was not still alive, he had multiple cancers in 2005. “Yes yes, he is, I contact him regularly” said Colin. “He has been working on some amazing new techniques. No one will have seen them. They won’t know how to handle him.” “But surely he was only a light weight?” someone questioned “True but ask George Kerr or Allan Petherbridge, (in fact Danny made him the Chief Mocha of Wales on his 80th birthday) they will tell you he is small but he can be very sneaky. “He won’t make the weight.” Said Densign White. “No problem we will get Fighting Films to make a special double lined Gi with stitched in lead weights. “It might just work . What do you think Andrew? “Piped up Roy Iman as he turned to our Russian Coach “Dropabollockof.” Replied Mishanov succinctly.
That was how I came to represent my country in the 2012 Olympics. I became the darling of the media. Never mind 14 year old divers. How difficult is that anyway? The force of gravity makes it easier to dive down than to dive up. Here was a superb athlete, turned 70, competing in the most demanding sport of all. Now let me tell you reader that I handled all the attention with sublime humility, which of course made me even more endearing; although truth be known, I was dead chuffed.
My entry into the arena was a triumph. I carried the hopes of every pensioner in Britain and had gained the respect of all the youngsters as well. “Viva Grandpa” they cried and the chant of “Grandpa, Grandpa, Grandpa” echoed to the rafters. I could not help succumbing to my bizarre sense of humour, as I approached the centre mat for the final using a Zimmer frame. Of course I made sure that my weighted gi did not clunk against it. The contest was a doddle. The new IJF rules suited me down to the ground – literally. Traditional judo techniques had been banned. Contestants were not allowed to fight upright. They had to stoop as the only scores allowed were those that involved grabbing the ankle. Just touching an ankle was worth a Koka and now that the scores were accumulative 4 ankle touches were worth one ippon. My 24 stone adversary was getting nervous, unsettled by the crowd. Even his own countrymen were now chanting “Grandpa”, completely won over by my charm and humility. The contest went the same way as all the others. I am short with unusually long arms, ankle touching was my game! It was all over in 20 seconds. Of course in order to maintain my public image, I was tearfully elated on the rostrum as our anthem played.
At that point I awoke to find that it had sadly been a dream. But it did make me wonder. Why did we perform so badly at Beijing? We had the talented fighters. I know they would have fought their hearts out. How can someone be World Champion class and not get a look in at the Olympics? One theory I have is that exposure in various tournaments has made them marked men (and women) their skills have been analysed, making them less effective a second time around. Another thought is that we copy existing champions and perhaps unfortunately for Judo as we once knew it, we are copying the wrestling styles. These depend fundamentally upon lifting. In a past era leg grabs were not considered good judo. In fact you were not permitted to take a leg unless it was off the ground to start with.
Personally I am pragmatic. If it works within the rules so be it. Let the best man win. However we change the rules for the sake of fashion, trying to make the sport more viewer friendly. Occasionally we see a super, dynamic throw worthy of an Ippon but the Ippon score has been devalued. What is often described as a great ippon would hardly have scored yuko at one time. Frequently it is difficult to judge who made the score. Was it the fighter that started the action or was he countered? Often the player that was judged to have scored ends up in a disadvantaged position, vulnerable on the ground. The ippon was supposed to represent a K.O. The rationalisation being that a heavy fall without a mat would end the fight. Most of the throws at Beijing came no where near that conclusion. If we put the games in a martial context which was the original Greek concept, running would be to get away from an enemy or to attack them; likewise jumping. Jumping where you go over backwards to land on foam to avoid breaking your neck, is athletic but obviously not martial. Judo however is a martial sport. A score without impact, where the thrower finishes in a vulnerable position is foolish in a martial sense. What is the point of teaching ground work for instance? It is not allowed in competition. How many contests did we see where an arm lock was about to be taken within a few seconds and the referee called “matee”? Judo groundwork was once a formidable form of fighting. Nowadays people look to Brazilian Jui Jitsu for groundwork.
A lot of investment has gone into British Judo but like the NHS, is it all being spent wisely? Is the BJA permitted to spend funds at their own discretion or are they mainly allocated for staff etc. by Sport UK? Our fighters deserve the best facilities and coaching which is a pre requisite for international success. However Judo is a very individual sport. Champions need to develop their own skills rather than copy. I am mindful that Neil Adams (our most successful male competitor) developed his various entries into jujigatami. He was a world beater through innovation. Mind you, he would not be successful today. Some of his arm locks took several seconds to put on! I delight in innovation. As a newly appointed Senior Men and Women’s Coach for the Western Area, I will encourage this aspect of our sport. A fighter must know their enemy in order to negate their attack. This does not mean copying their skills. Champions are individuals that have specialist moves. To stay on top requires constant development. As an armchair warrior I saw countless opportunities for new techniques developed by me that have had very limited exposure. I knew that if I had the energy to get out of my chair, I could win every contest; just as I could have won Wimbledon this year. Hang on, perhaps I am still dreaming.
Danny da Costa
Judo, Aikido, Shinjido and Defender of the Faith