The match was still 0 to 0 by the end of the 2nd round. The referee could’ve given us both another kyongo, but I think he realized it wouldn’t have mattered. I feinted an attack, and he responded with nothing. He feinted toward me, but I knew he was only trying to draw out my attack.
It was probably the most boring match to watch that year at the US Open. I thought to myself, “if only this opponent fought like my last,” who continued to try and score. I beat that opponent by knockout, a naeryo chigi chagi (axe kick) to the head.
One thing was very obvious between me and my opponent during this standoff. We were both counter fighters. We knew exactly what the other was up to. The only problem was, we couldn’t get each other to attack. I trained very specifically to be a counter fighter. I have excellent recognition skills, meaning- I can see my opponents attack coming several fractions of a second in advance, and can counter appropriately.
In addition to that, when it comes to dwi chagis (back kicks), dwi hueryo chagis (spin hook kicks), and ahp bal naeryo chagis (front leg axe kicks), I am ambidextrous. I can use any of these 3 powerful kicks equally as fast and effective from my left or right side.
Let’s get back to the match. There was not a lot of time left. During that match, something profound occurred to me. I realized, a true champion has to adapt with a given situation. I knew that if I wanted to win, I needed to score. It was an exhilarating feeling.
I attacked, but not with a standard dollyo chagi (roundhouse kick). I knew my opponent would counter it immediately. I knew that my attack would have to be complicated in order to confuse my opponents counter attack. I created distance between us, then I shot forward (Ilbo Chunjin), then immediately executed a yadabon (tornado kick) and ended up with nothing.
At this point, time was definitely of the essence. I attacked again, but this time my opponent scored with a bada chagi (counter ‘roundhouse’ kick). With only 10 seconds left in the match, guess what my opponent did? He ran! 10 seconds was not enough time for him to get another kyongo. He won the match.
The result of the match was a good lesson for me. I may have lost the match, but I believe I took away something way more valuable than my opponent did. You see, my opponent believes that he can become a champion by remaining 100% a counter fighter. In this case it was true, but only because I failed to develop superior attacking skills. I realized something very important as a fighter.
I watched the rest of the matches that day for my weight division (heavy). One fighter that really caught my attention was the Dutch National team member. I watched him counter exactly like I do. It was like watching myself in the mirror. He was even my height, and my build.
Then it really hit me… I saw him attack! I saw him go back and forth between attacking and counter attacking like it was nothing. He even sparred the opponent that beat me. Although he had a tough time scoring on attacks, he took him out of his rhythm because of his fast pace of changing between offense and defense.
That year, the Dutch National team member took the Gold Medal at the US Open. The lesson learned is that you must develop both skills. You can become a great fighter by developing counter skills or attacking skills, but if you want to be a champion, you must develop both.
Respectfully,
Master Richardson
