How to Up Your Competitive Chops

In my other entries I have spent time running competitive HEMA down. That’s a bit because I like the martial HEMA better, and I think overall as a martial art it’s got more room to exist. However, I liked competing, tournaments are fun, and I think we should all compete at some point even if it’s not our goal. For now, let’s say it is our goal, then what do we do?

First, we identify our strengths and weaknesses.

“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.” — Sun Tzu

Of Sun Tzu’s three options, two lead to some success, and their only shared criterion is knowing one’s self. Cool, cool. How do we learn about ourselves? Great question. You need to start with some brutal honesty a fearless self inventory if you will. Ask your sparring partners what you’re good and bad at, and be receptive to feedback. Watch film of yourself, break it down, honestly (none of use are perfect embrace it and use it). Take notes. Finally, keep a journal. I’ll recommend some books in other places that will help with all this, from people who are better coaches than I’ll ever be.

Now that you have a base knowledge of your fencing, scrape the data. What are your successful attacks? Why? Where do you struggle? Why? Honesty is key.

Note: I’m going to refer to people as enemies here in reference to the quote above. These people are not enemies, they’re your best friends because they help teach you about yourself. But enemies for funsies.

Good news: step two, which is knowing your enemy, is the same as step one. Watch film of tournaments with people you will be competing against. In fact, do the exact same exercise for all of them that you just did for yourself. Write it down. Make an entry for every fencer. Write up a little profile. Is this a lot of work? Yes. Is it worth it? I don’t know. How badly do you want to win a game that has no monetary reward?

Next point. Tournaments have rules, and rules are enforced by judges, and judges are people, and people are bad judges. Now, before all you good people look me up to track me down to beat me with a sock full of doorknobs, let me explain. Calls are going to be bad sometimes. Judging is incredibly hard, angles can be bad, attention wavers, people get tired, someone is supposed to be a good fencer so they get the call. I add this last part not because I think matches are rigged, though it would be naive to think that never happens, but because people bring their prejudice wherever they go, and that includes having it color what they think they saw. They can’t help it any more than you can help giving people you like the benefit of the doubt you may not give a stranger. It’s just a thing. Let’s all please remember, despite what I just said, judges are wonderful people who are donating time so you can have a good time. They are trying their hardest, but they’re still just people, and we need to take that into account.

Tournaments are theater, not a competition.

If you’re new and coming up, you have to forge a reputation as a good fencer. Judges are just as much your enemy as your opponent at first. You must also overcome them. The only way to do this is to see what actions are given priority. What do judges like to see? Do that! In my experience, the best way to do this is stab people in the face with blade control. It’s just hard to argue that someone didn’t get stabbed in the face since their whole body has to go where the head goes. And the crowd loves it.

Now, we know ourselves and our enemies. We can start training.

First thing with training for a tournament: we have to grind. I love the martial art of HEMA where knowing all the options all the time is graceful and comes quickly and smoothly. We’re not doing that, though. We are pressure-testing basic gross (large) actions. A gentle short-edge cut to the top of the head is going to get you ZERO points. Trust me. We need to sell every action. Reread what I just wrote about judges above.

So, what basic action have you identified in your study that you’re good at? Is it cutting? From where? Is it a thrust? From what distance? Grind that. Figure out your exact measure to make it work. Grind it.

Do you have it? Good.

Now you need to figure out what the most likely reaction is to this action. How are they going to parry you? Now practice what happens when they parry that action in a couple of likely ways, and grind that.

Now, what would you do if you used this action as a feint? What line would you change your attack to?

Next, what happens with this action from different measures? You’ll notice this action becomes a different action at a different measure, but it’s the same basic movement. For instance, a thrust to the face might be a cut to the top of the head at a closer measure, which might be a pommel at a step closer.

Lastly, make every preparation for this action look exactly the same. Same footwork, same hand position—give NOTHING away.

If you’ve paid attention here, you’ll notice that this one action is really about three primary attacks, at least two feints, and two continuations. This single grinding exercise is giving you twelve discrete actions; more than enough for most bouts that go to four touches. They will be clean, and if your approach is always the same, they will be impossible to predict. That’s good theater.