Читать книгу Legends of the Martial Arts Masters - Susan Lynn Peterson - Страница 11

Robert Trias is known as the “father of American karate.” As a sailor in the United States Navy, he was the middleweight boxing champion for that branch of the service. During World War II, he was stationed in the British Solomon Islands in the South Pacific. There he studied karate and Hsing-I with Tung Gee Hsing, a Chinese martial artist. In 1945, he returned to the United States and opened America’s first commercial karate school in Phoenix, Arizona. Later he became a highway patrolman in Arizona and is credited for adapting the tonfa, an Asian martial arts weapon, into the L-shaped police baton that law enforcement officers use today.

The Hard Way to Find a Teacher

Robert Trias popped his opponent with a quick jab to the chin, followed by another, and another. His opponent danced back, shook his head, and grinned. He moved in and shot an uppercut under Trias’s lead arm but missed him by crucial inches. Trias slipped the punch and drove a glove into his opponent’s ribs. The bell rang. The two men hugged each other, thumping each other’s back with their bulky boxing gloves. They stepped through the ropes out of the ring.

“Geez, Robert,” his opponent said, tugging at the laces of his glove with his teeth. “Every time I climb into the ring with you I come out feeling like a punching bag after a hard day.”

“You got a few good ones in, too, Tom,” Trias offered.

“Yeah, right. I think one was off your arm. And the other hit your shoulder, was it?”

Trias grinned, rolling his head from shoulder to shoulder. Boxing made him feel good. He took a swig of water from a bottle next to the ring.

“Serves me right for stepping into the ring with the Navy’s top middleweight,” Tom muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Every time I fight you I learn something, though. In another twenty years you’d better watch out!”

Trias ran a towel over his regulation Navy haircut. Even the spring in Solomon Islands was hot, and a lot more humid than his home in Arizona.

“Mr. Trias?”

Trias turned to see a small Asian man make his way to the ring. “I’m Robert Trias,” he said.

“Pardon me for disturbing you. My name is Tung Gee Hsing. I understand you are a master of American box.”

“Boxing,” Trias said. “I’ve won my share of rounds.”

“I myself am a student of Hsing-I, an ancient style of self-defense. I would like to teach you in exchange for lessons in American box . . . boxing.”

“Thanks, but I do pretty well at defending myself already,” Trias winked at Tom, who grinned back.

“Just so,” Hsing replied. “That is why I would like to study with you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Trias replied. “I have my Navy duties and my training. I really don’t have time to take on a student. See you ’round, OK?”

“Yes. Yes, that will be fine,” Hsing nodded, then turned to leave. When he had gone, Trias turned to Tom. “Strange fellow. Ever heard of Hsing-I?”

“Nope,” Tom replied. “But I’ve heard that some of those Chinese boxers fight like tigers.”

The next afternoon, Trias was skipping rope in the gym when the door opened and Tung Gee Hsing entered. Hsing took a seat on a bench in the corner and watched quietly. Trias put away the jump rope and began working out on the heavy bag. Dust puffed from the stitching with each blow. Somehow, though, his timing was off. Trias felt Hsing’s eyes heavy on his back. It made him nervous. Finally, he turned and walked to the bench. Hsing stood.

“Are you here to ask for boxing lessons again?” he asked. “Yes,” Hsing replied. “And to offer to teach you Hsing-I.” “I told you I’m not interested.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Then why don’t you just leave?” Hsing bowed and left.

The next afternoon, when Trias entered the gym, there was Hsing waiting for him. He bowed to Trias and smiled.

“You don’t take a hint, do you?” Trias commented as he dropped his gear on the bench next to Hsing. Hsing just smiled. “Maybe the direct approach will work. What will it take to get you to leave me alone?”

“Would you like to fight?” Hsing asked.

“Me? Fight you? No offense, but you’re hardly in my weight class. You’d be at a disadvantage.”

“It’s fine. Hsing-I doesn’t use weight classes.”

Trias shook his head. “If I beat you, will you leave me alone?” “Certainly,” Hsing replied.

“Then let’s find you some gloves,” Trias smiled.

“Thank you, but that really won’t be necessary. Unless you would prefer . . .”

“It makes no difference to me either,” Trias replied. “But why don’t you put them on anyway. They’ll protect your hands. Tom,” he called out to his training buddy, “Call the guys outside, would you? They might want to see this. It looks like we’ve got a match between me and our persistent friend here.”

Trias danced around his opponent, sizing him up. Hsing stood steady but light on his feet, shifting stance ever so slightly to adjust for Trias’s position. Trias jabbed; Hsing slipped it. He jabbed again; Hsing dropped under the punch and tagged Trias’s ribs.

Trias’s eyes grew wide. The punch didn’t look like much, but the force rattled through him. He drew a fast, deep breath and looked at his opponent. Not a hint of satisfaction, not a hint of any emotion crossed his calm face. OK, so it was going to take more than jabs to get this guy’s attention.

One, two, three. Trias sent in a volley of punches. One, two, three, four. Hsing was blocking and slipping some of his best combinations. The punches that did land seemed to be swallowed up by his body without hurting him at all. So the guy was good. But could he last? Trias picked up the intensity. Try as he might, he could not land a thing. Finally in desperation he set up a punch to the jaw that would blast through any defense. One, two, three, four, blast. The punch flew in like a bullet, and landed on thin air.

Trias caught his balance in time to see Hsing’s glove completely fill his field of vision. Another punch caught him in the gut, and another on the side of the head. His feet went out from under him.

Trias’s vision cleared, and he saw Hsing’s hand extended. He grasped it and pulled himself up. Trias looked at the small man as he stepped through the ropes and left the ring. He had never seen a combination like that. He’d never seen anyone who could evade punches like that. Frankly, he’d never seen a man fight like that. Silently Trias left the ring.

Hsing was in the corner removing his gloves. Trias pulled off his right glove and walked over. He extended his hand. “Mr. Hsing,” he said, “Will you teach me?”