Читать книгу The Kid from the South Bronx Who Never Gave Up - John Giordano - Страница 7

One day my friend and I were walking by a karate school and I said to him, “I wonder how tough the karate teacher is?” He looked at me, laughed, and told me that I was crazy. I said to him let us see how crazy I really am. I had these grandiose ideas that I was a spectacular fighter and could take on anyone, including grown men who claimed to know martial arts. I was street-taught; surely my skills were better than this stranger’s. So, we went upstairs to watch the class thinking that when the class was over, we would challenge the teacher. This never happened as it was getting late and I had to get home. If I did not get home, my father would be waiting to hit me with his belt. I guess I was not as tough as I thought I was, especially when it came to my father.

When I came home, I asked my mother if I could join the karate class.

“No,” my mother said immediately. “You could get hurt.”

My father, of course, ignored her. “Yes, you can join,” he said. After they finished arguing, he talked my mother into allowing me to join. My father was tough but, do not kid yourself, so was my mother. He knew that she had to say ok or he would never here the end of it. Now, in my immature mind, I figured that I would beat the teacher’s ass and then tell my father that I did not like the class. Talk about overconfidence, ego, and a lot of stupidity. Wow, what planet was I on? When I went to enroll, the teacher told me I had to be fifteen in order to join unless I had my family’s written ok. I was only fourteen-and-a-half. My dad signed the paper, so I joined. When I signed up, I did not realize it was the Jiu-Jitsu class not karate, but I did not care. I will never forget my first encounter with this Jiu-Jitsu teacher. So, there I was on my first day in class. We were sitting around in a circle and the teacher was teaching us how to block a punch. The teacher was a short, round-bodied person with a soft but commanding voice. When I looked at him, I said to myself, Is this guy kidding? I do not think he could fight his way out of a paper bag. I was soon to find out how wrong I really was.

Meanwhile the teacher asked for a volunteer and, of course, I raised my hand. I stood up, thinking about how hard I was going to hit this guy. I waited for the opportunity to strike him. While the teacher was explaining how to block a punch, I took the chance and tried to sneak punch him. This punch changed my life forever. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor. I had a foot on my neck and a big, round face looking down at me. He looked at me and smiled. He did not say a word, not that he had to. I got the message loud and clear.

From that day on, I practiced every day and night. I loved it. I found a new way of channeling my anger and my thirst for knowledge. I quit the gang and immediately became one of the top students in the class along with my friend Jimmy, who had joined as well. We took Judo and Jiu-Jitsu. Jimmy and I began to become very proficient in the art of self-defense.

My teachers were old school; they trained us until we dropped. My friend and I were extremely fortunate as we studied under three Grand Masters along with our other teachers. Jimmy and I used to stick around on Saturdays after our classes so we could wait for the karate class to begin. We asked the karate teacher if we could spar with his students. Since it was a practice class, he said it was okay. The problem was that we used to make his students look bad because we beat them all up.

The karate teacher would always argue with the Judo and Jiu Jitsu teachers that if we wanted to go into the karate class so bad, we should join. One Saturday afternoon, I walked into the school and saw my friend taking karate, so I joined too. By this time, I had my black belt in Judo and Jiu-Jitsu. I wanted to get my black belt in karate as well.

Our new karate teacher was a famous teacher named Frank Ruiz. He was a Marine DI, which means drill instructor. He taught the toughest classes I ever took. We had to walk on our knuckles around the dojo till our knuckles bled. In the summertime, we trained at the dojo. With the stream on, doors and windows shut, we nearly passed out. Some of the other guys did. In the wintertime, he would keep the doors and windows open. We were stripped down to our GI pants and then were made to us run around the neighborhood in the snow barefoot. If we stopped or complained, he would hit us with a shinai, a slatted wooden sword that packed quite a punch.

We learned how to do flying kicks by jumping over a sharpened samurai sword. I remember one of the students did not quite make it over the sword and cut his foot. This made us all jump even higher because none of us wanted to get our feet cut. I remember holding our arms straight out, carrying our shoes in each hand until we wanted to cry. We would then do duck walks around the mat and if we stopped, we would have to begin all over again. My legs felt like they were falling off, but I was not going to stop no matter what. I remember one of the guys throwing up in class and Master Ruiz made him pick up the throw up and put it inside his uniform to take it off the mat.

Every day was a challenge in this class, but I loved it. One thing I will tell you is that we had toughest students in the country; we beat every school that came our way and won every tournament that we entered. If we did not win, it was because we were disqualified for too much contact. My martial arts training took me off the streets taught me discipline, how to endure pain, how to focus and understand what chi (one’s inner strength) was, and how to recognize my own inner strength. It also taught me how to face my fears, overcome them, and, above, all, to never ever give up. I owe a lot to my martial arts training and I am still learning, to this day.

When I was seventeen, I fought in one of the biggest tournaments in the country. All my dojo brothers and sisters lost and were out of the tournament. I was the only one left standing to represent our school. I did not want to let anybody down. I felt so much pressure. However, one thing I learned was that I work best under pressure. Before the tournament, my teacher made a deal with me. He said that if I took first place in this tournament and at least second-place in the second-biggest tournament in the country (which by the way was the next day), he would give me my black belt. I was moving to Florida and I wanted to go there with all three black belts: my Judo, Jiu-Jitsu, and now my Karate black belt. I believe my teacher was trying to discourage me from going to Miami so he tried to make it almost impossible for me to attain my goal of being the youngest black belt of that time period to hold three black belts in different arts. Back then, you had to be eighteen years of age in order to receive a black belt.

Well I took first place in Gary Alexander’s karate tournament, and second place in the Staten Island tournament. After fighting nine different opponents. For my last fight, I fought my dojo brother, Carlos, for first place. During the last part of the match Carlos threw a kick that hit the tip of my Gi just under my armpit. It was far away, not actually a point, but the ref gave him the point. Even though Carlos told the ref that it was not a point, I did not care. In a tournament points are given on the bases of a killing or maiming blow to a lethal area. The strike must be a minimum of one to two inches from target or light body contact to the target area in order to be considered a winning point. It usually takes three points to win a match or the most points achieved in allotted time.

I had achieved what I wanted to achieve: my black belt. I was Master Frank Ruiz’s first black belt recipient. I do not know if my teacher was happy or disappointed; I knew he did not want me to go to Florida. I guess he felt like I was abandoning the school. Little did I know at the time, I would be studying Karate for over 56 years and would receive a tenth-degree black belt from Grand Master Frank Ruiz’s teacher grandmaster Peter Urban. When Grand Master Urban told me that he wanted to give me my 10th degree black belt, I told him I did not think I was ready. He then told me he has been observing me since I was fifteen-years-old. He then said that I really deserved the rank for a multitude of reasons. From being a champion, teaching champion students, and overcoming my addictions, he really believed in my integrity and values. Furthermore, he appreciated my efforts to help other addicts and alcoholics in overcoming their diseases. He also told me that I had the proper character and met the time in grade requirement as well as all the achievements that I accomplished. I didn’t realize the depth of how he viewed me. He also told me how proud he was of me teaching my blind student David to become a national champion. My student, David, became close to Grand Master Urban over the years. I also was able to get to know Master Urban especially when he moved down to Florida and stayed in one of the houses I owned. Grand Master Urban was a very eccentric type of person but talking to him privately for all those years I came to really appreciate who he truly was, despite his flaws character. It was an honor to know him I could not believe that he looked at me the way he did. I graciously accepted the rank he awarded me, even though I still felt undeserving of it. I realized that by accepting this honor, I now carried a great responsibility and with it, I hoped that I was up to the task. Now, through the years, I received many honors and I was placed in the black belt Hall of Fame. I also received a lifetime achievement award from my peers as well as being recognized as a pioneer in karate in the state of Florida. One thing I learned in life you never know where we will wind up and what the future holds for us. Even though I was still doing some drugs in the early 70s, I helped put together a Karate team with some of the top Karate champions in the country. Our team was called the Miami vice Karate team and I was able to get funding from the Cricket Club, which was a private club in North Miami and Diana Shapiro the owner of Biscayne Babies, a famous night club. They bought us uniforms and paid for all of our traveling expense for eighteen months. We traveled all over the country. We went to New York, California, Kentucky, Florida, and The Midwest. We were in a tournament almost every single weekend and it was both a lot of fun and a lot of hard work. We beat most of the other teams. Joe and myself always competed in kata (forms) and we usually took first or second place. These were national tournaments and Joe was better at kata than me. At times, I also beat him for first place as we were both extremely competitive. I was one of the coaches and a competitor. The other coaches, Joe and Tom, competed as well. Our team consisted of black belts from other styles. There was Tony, Reggie, Bart, Juan, Hector, and James. We had so much fun traveling together and it was one of the best times of my life. Traveling with these black belts who were not only funny but extremely talented karatekas. At the end of the 18 months and competing in neuromeres tournaments, I had accumulated over 45 first and second place trophies; we also made a hell of a name for ourselves. We were also the only team that beat the Budweiser team, which was backed by the Budweiser brewery. They also had the had the strongest competitors compared to everyone else. Now, let us get back to the reasons I moved to Florida.