Morning Star sports reporter Graeme Corbett (top) pits his four weeks of Brazlian jiu-jitsu training against Mario Deveault, a Gracie Barra black belt and owner of training centres in Vernon and Grindrod.

Morning Star sports reporter Graeme Corbett (top) pits his four weeks of Brazlian jiu-jitsu training against Mario Deveault, a Gracie Barra black belt and owner of training centres in Vernon and Grindrod.

Tapping into jiu-jitsu

Morning Star sports reporter Graeme Corbett hits the mats with the Gracie Barra Vernon Brazilian jiu-jitsu club for some training as they prepare for the IBJJF U.S. Championships this weekend in Irivine, Calif.

I blame John Davies for the pain. I’ll thank him eventually, but right now I am acutely aware of every muscle fibre in my abdomen thanks to him.

John convinced me it would be a “good idea” to hit the mats with the folks down at Gracie Barra (pronounced ‘Ba-ha’) Vernon Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu club for some training sessions. The club has a group of four heading to the International Brazilian Jiu Jitsu Federation (IBJJF) U.S. championships this weekend in Irvine, Calif.

John, a white belt who will compete stateside, reasoned it would offer the Morning Star readership good insight if I were to experience firsthand what it’s like to participate in the sport.

OK, it didn’t take that much convincing. I’ve been an ardent armchair fan of BJJ since it was introduced to the North American mixed martial arts (MMA) scene by the legendary Royce Gracie in the early days of the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC).

Gracie, one of the smallest competitors back when the UFC didn’t use weight classes, demonstrated that joint submissions and chokes can be just as effective as brute force and striking. He won UFCs 1, 2 and 4 on the way to becoming a charter member in the organization’s Hall of Fame.

What a lot of people don’t realize is that while BJJ has become an essential aspect of MMA, it is a sport all on its own. And a surprisingly safe (and humbling) one at that.

Unlike the trademark “ground-and-pound” fans so eagerly want to see inside the octagon, there is no striking in Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Bouts start on the feet, but quickly head to the mat where the two competitors engage in a physical chess match, attacking, evading and grappling in a bid to submit their opponents with endless combinations of locks and chokes.

Davies, a professional forester, has only been practising the sport for nine months and he has already attended two major international competitions – the Pan American championships in March, and the world championships in June. He won a bronze in the middleweight (181 pound) division in the latter.

Basically, he’s a 41-year-old rookie who has already medaled on the world stage. That in itself should demonstrate anyone can do this sport. And that’s not to take anything away from John – he sometimes trains seven days a week.

John will join Vernon Gracie Barra owner/head instructor Mario Deveault and Dave Rothwell, both black belts, and purple belt Devon Chinnock in Irvine.

Davies, who rowed with the UBC Thunderbirds back in university, discovered Gracie Barra while he was looking to augment his weekly oldtimers soccer outings.

“I was looking to get back into some higher-level fitness stuff. I couldn’t see myself going to the gym and pumping weights. I wanted something that involved a little more thinking,” he explained.

When I agreed to take in a few sessions, I knew there would be a learning curve but didn’t think I’d be so completely out of my element. I had learned enough aikido in college to hit the mat without hurting myself, followed by two years of tae kwon do and a bit of boxing. Besides, I’d been watching UFC on TV for years. The rear-naked chokes and armbar submissions would soon flow like water, right?

Wrong. You have to survive the warm-up first.

Again, I’ve been running a fair bit lately and thought (mistakenly) I’d have the cardio to keep up. After counting out five sets of 10 pushups, leg raises, leg scissors, burpees and any other maniacal exercises Mario could think up, I was ready to pass out.

Mario just grinned: “That was a light warm-up.” And I believe him.

There comes a time in BJJ where every newcomer will experience a brief moment of awkwardness. It’s that moment where you actually have to start practising jiu-jitsu, which is after all a close-quarters sport. You just have to tell yourself: “OK, this person is going to wrap their legs around me and I’m going to let them.”

This is called the guard position and bouts typically end up there at some point, with the person on top trying to get past the legs of the person on the bottom.

“One of the biggest things for people to get over is that close contact. After that, you just become so enthralled with the chess match, figuring out how to do something and how to counter something. You’ve always got to be thinking,” said John.

And it really is like chess. When I rolled (that’s BJJ lingo for sparring) with Mario the other day, it was like a novice going up against a grand master – it was over in three or four moves. I’m not overly worried about it at this point. I view myself as a wad of cookie dough – all the ingredients are there, I just need to bake a little in the BJJ oven.

Like John, all it took was one class for Mario and he was hooked. A former teacher, he took his first class in 1998 and is now one of two Gracie Barra certified black belts in the Okanagan (Rothwell is the other).

“After my first class of Brazilian jiu-jitsu, I basically told my wife (Margot) the next day that I found out what I want to do.”

The competitive juices still flow strongly in Mario, 41, but  he has to put the club first. Like any other business owner, he has overhead to pay on his training centres in Vernon and Grindrod. His own training suffers somewhat as a result.

“I’ve got to cater to the new guys coming in. It’s more about the business and less about me. I’ve competed lots, I’ve won and lost, but I just miss the competition and I want to compete again,” said Mario, a winner of nine medals in international competition.

The thing I have come to appreciate most about the Vernon club over my few short weeks is the camaraderie. Whether it’s Mario quoting one-liners from a popular beer commercial (“Stay thirsty, my friends”) as he demonstrates an intricate technique, or brown belt Gary Armbrust’s unflappable enthusiasm (he’d give the Dalai Lama a run for Nice Guy of the Year award), it’s just a great environment to be around.

When I rolled with Armbrust, a former Canadian lightweight champion (he went undefeated in 10 pro MMA fights), he didn’t hesitate in making me tap with an endless procession of submissions.

He just grinned: “I’ve got to do this now, because in six months I won’t be able to anymore.”

I sure hope he’s right.

 

Vernon Morning Star

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