Читать книгу From Lee to Li: An A–Z guide of martial arts heroes - Ben Stevens - Страница 10

Jon Bluming was born on 3 February, 1933 in Amsterdam, Holland. Growing up in a Jewish neighbourhood, he witnessed numerous atrocities conducted by the German SS during the Second World War. In fact, Bluming’s father was for a time forced into slave labour by the occupying forces, something that obliged Bluming to fend for himself, his mother, and his grandparents while still a child.

Bluming applied to enter the Dutch marines when aged sixteen and was sent to bootcamp. Then, in 1950, the Korean War broke out and Bluming saw action. He was soon wounded with two shots to his upper right leg and sent to a hospital in Tokyo.

During his convalescence he slipped out to the legendary Kodokan (judō headquarters), where he saw a breathtaking martial arts’ display by a wizened old man who was throwing around much larger men ‘like rag dolls’. Bluming suspected then that judō—and martial arts in general—was the way to go for a strapping young man with iron in his soul.

He returned to action long enough to get wounded again (this time by a hand grenade) and while recuperating—on this occasion in a Korean hospital—Bluming studied tae kwon do for six weeks under a teacher called Yong Dong Po.

Bluming returned to Holland but soon decided that civvie life was not for him; within a matter of months he was back in Korea. Then, during a particularly fierce night of fighting, he was wounded yet again by a mortar. At that point, even Bluming decided that enough was enough and so he returned to Holland.

When he arrived in Amsterdam he saw a poster for a local judō club, the ‘Tung Jen’, where within twelve months he’d achieved his first dan black belt, as well as becoming captain of the club’s team.

Disaster struck as he was going for his third dan, with Bluming breaking his big toe. It seemed as though he’d have to be content with being second dan for a while longer—until Bluming decided to settle the matter by winding the offending toe around and around. He wet himself and nearly passed out with the pain, but upon completing his ad hoc surgery, found that his toe no longer bothered him.

He went on to obtain the desired dan grade, in the process performing recognised throws upon seventy-five judoka (judō practitioners) within twenty-six minutes. Any celebrations were marred soon after when Bluming broke his right knee, requiring an operation and yet another spell in hospital.

It was Bluming’s dream to get back to Japan—that magical land he’d had a brief glimpse of while resident at a Tokyo hospital—but for the time being he had to content himself with teaching judō first in Germany (at a Berlin police club) and then in Canada, earning the princely sum of two dollars an hour.

In 1959, Bluming left Canada to hitch a ride with some truck-driver friends across the USA, stopping at any number of dōjō en-route to train and challenge anyone who fancied their chances. Predictably, Bluming emerged from every altercation the victor.

Bluming did finally get back to Japan, where he quickly earned himself the nickname Oranda no Dobutsu (the ‘Dutch Animal’) for his ferocious style of fighting. He was admired and detested in equal measure by Japanese martial artists, especially when he succeeded in choking one of their number out cold with a strangle.

Such tales concerning Bluming’s infamy in Japan spread far and wide, prompting an offer that he return to Holland and teach. The contract was too good to turn down, and so Bluming at last left Japan for his country of birth.

Later, Bluming’s sensei (Japanese for ‘teacher’—approximately translates as ‘one who has gone before’) in Japan—the legendary Masutatsu ‘Mas’ Oyama—awarded Bluming (Oyama’s first foreign student) a sixth dan in karate, with many oriental martial artists demanding to know how a foreigner could be ranked so highly. Oyama replied that anyone was freely entitled to address such a question to Bluming personally: if they managed to beat him in a fight, then he (Oyama) would pay them $100,000 and strip Bluming of his ranking.

Only one man took Oyama up on his offer—a Korean tae kwon do expert called Kwan Mo Gun. Gun was first knocked out by two of Bluming’s students, who explained their actions thus: ‘If you go first, Sensei, there’ll be nothing left after.’

But each time Gun was knocked out he quickly awoke and got back up, saying ‘And now Bluming…’ Bluming had to admire the man’s guts, even as he beat him.

An even higher grade—in fact the very highest grade it is possible to attain—was given to Bluming upon the death of Mas Oyama in 1994. Bluming was now a tenth dan karateka (he has also a ninth dan in judō), and acknowledged worldwide as the real deal when it came to martial arts and self-defence.

He continues to travel the world teaching and lecturing, never afraid to publicly rubbish anyone he suspects of being a fraud or a fake in the martial arts’ world. (For an example of this, just check out the ‘Expelled Members’ section of his website.)

He also dismisses certain elements of karate kata (a serious of pre-set movements) as being a way for poor-quality sensei to use up the hours they should rather spend teaching their students how to fight.

Apart from warfare, Bluming has had numerous violent encounters on the street. One of which—between Bluming and five pimps, one of whom hit him with a hammer—ended badly for the aggressor. Bluming hit the pimp back and the man subsequently died in hospital. (Since then—unless his life absolutely depends on it—Bluming has vowed never again to hit anyone with a closed fist.)

Such encounters give the reason for Bluming’s martial arts’ philosophy: if it works, use it—never mind what style it’s from—and if it doesn’t (like various types of kata), forget it.