Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be – Part 1.
A comparison between karate courses from the past and how things are now.
Let me be clear from the start, I am not one to trumpet the ‘good old days’ and I certainly don’t want to earmark any time period as a ‘golden age’ (in my experience, things weren’t always so ‘golden’). Neither do I want to engage in the Monty Python ‘Four Yorkshiremen’ sketch and tell youngsters they’ve never had it so good, that’s just boorish and tiresome.
What I am going to focus on is those big twice a year courses of solid training with Japanese Wado karate Sensei, from the long-distant past, the ones that were normally six or seven days in length. I want to tell it like it was and then maybe look at how things are now.
Locations.
In the old days the summer courses were usually at some English seaside resort, which seemed to rotate every couple of years, which in itself is worthy of comment because these locations may have looked really good on paper or in the tourist ads, but the reality was often quite different.
Back in the 70’s and 80’, as now, these once shining holiday locations probably went past their prime decades ago. In the UK currently these same ‘seaside resorts’ are often some of the poorest and depressed places you would ever visit; bad enough in the summer, but deathly out of season, when it wouldn’t surprise me if half the population is either in ‘God’s waiting room’ or on suicide watch. And it was just the same back in the 1970’s and 80’s (my first big summer course was in 1975).
Let me start with some comparisons:
Roughing it.
Of course, I can only speak for myself but the idea of TripAdvisor vetted boutique hotels and Airbnb apartments was just unthinkable at the time, not only because it didn’t exist, but mainly because if it did it would probably be deemed an unnecessary and unaffordable luxury. Instead, we very much went ‘down market’.
Every summer course it was noticeable that along the seafronts of places like Ramsgate, Great Yarmouth or Torquay were establishments like, ‘The Imperial Hotel’, ‘Palace Hotel’ or ‘The Grand Hotel’. How ‘grand’ it really was I have no idea; people on a karate course did not stay in the ‘Grand Hotel’, I doubt even the Japanese Sensei stayed in such places. A Bed and Breakfast (read that as ‘cheap rooming house’)1 was considered upmarket for the people on the course. Once or twice I did go for that option, mainly because the cheaper alternatives were so grim and I felt I’d done my time on campsites.
I mention campsite, because, for many, it was a very doable option. I can only speak for myself here but we did not have either the essentials or the luxuries you would associate with modern camping. What sticks in my mind is an ex-army two-man tent with a sewn in groundsheet and two sleeping bags, that was it; not even an air mattress, effectively, that was sleeping on the ground for up to six nights. But then at that age, what do you know? You are young, stupid and indestructible.
At Ramsgate I remember sleeping the first night in the car, because we arrived too late to pitch a tent.
On later courses caravan parks seemed like a good option, although mischief was never far away. I remember a bunch from my Dojo had hired out three or four caravans next to each other. One of them thought it would be fun one night to throw half a loaf of sliced bread up on the roof of their neighbour’s caravan. The net result was that they were awakened at dawn by a whole flock of seagulls scrabbling on the roof fighting over the bread – it must have made one hell of a row!
The course itself.
Several facts that would surprise people today:
The numbers.
Attendance was huge. People came from all over the UK with only a small contingent from abroad. 250 to 300 on a course, no wonder we did all that line work; it had to be done that way to fit it all in! With numbers that big, the line-ups looked really impressive.
The spread of grades.
Unlike today, I am guessing that in the 1970’s and 1980’s 80% plus were kyu grades. The remaining 20% were Dan grades. Back in the 70’s if somebody was a 3rd Dan they were considered a God, but still way down the hierarchy from the Japanese Sensei. This clearly had an impact on what was taught; it had to be appropriate to the ability of the students. The Japanese Sensei generally taught in a hierarchy too; the top man generally took the top students, though there were exceptions.
Average age.
I don’t have any figures on this but my best estimate is the average age would have worked out as mid-twenties. Compare that with now, where the average age is likely to be much higher and the line-up looks like a queue for the post office on pension day2. Inevitably, in those years, the content of the course was pitched at a level of Gung-ho; which suited the younger Japanese Sensei perfectly, as many of them had come straight out of university and, I am guessing, based their training methods on Japanese-style university karate summer courses, and you can guess how that went. But, it worked.
The practicals.
I reckon I used to get away with two gis to last the week, but there were people who tried to get away with one gi for the whole week. You could do it if you had a launderette nearby, but some didn’t bother, needless to say that by the end of the week they were not the most popular training partners.
Other oddities.
It’s strange but nobody seemed to bring water or anything to rehydrate; certainly not to the rate they would today. Nowadays everybody seems to be chugging water, water bottles are currently available in all sorts of designs, not so in those early days. The training was inclined to be very ‘boot camp’, we lost gallons of sweat and we only had the shortest of breaks, but still not much water drinking. I think that the drinking of water in sports activity is entirely sensible, but also, there’s no denying that it has become a cultural thing and the water bottle has become a bit of a fashion accessory.
Hardly anyone came to the training venue already changed. It just wasn’t done, when it happened I just thought it was weird… or foreign. If I did see it, my kneejerk thought was, ‘for goodness sake, curb your enthusiasm’. It was just like the one guy who always attended the morning run in his Gi (you know who you are). At 6am nobody wanted to be fouling up their crisp white Gi with sand or grass stains.
In part two I will be looking at; the early morning training, the exercises, meditation, venues, etc.
Picture: 1984 UKKW Summer Course, Torquay.
Read the autobiographical account by American author Bill Bryson and his experiences and description of an English Bed and Breakfast in Dover in 1973. This can be found in the opening chapter of his book, ‘Notes from a Small Island’ – hilarious!
I can’t take the credit for that comparison. It has to go to my long-time training buddy Andy Cambridge.
Never went on one but always wished I had!