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ОглавлениеC H A P T E R T W O
E V O L U T I O N O F J E E T
K U N E D O ’ S S T R A I G H T L E A D
B y now, the story of how Bruce Lee came to develop Jeet Kune Do is the stuff of legend, but it bears repeating here. In 1964, Bruce was teaching martial arts at his Oakland school. Other Bay Area kung fu instructors, displeased with Bruce’s willingness to take on non-Chinese students, dispatched Wong J. Man from Hong Kong to Oakland with an ultimatum: close the school or throw down.
The challenge, of course, was met right there on the spot, and the two faced off, but a fight that Bruce felt should have been over much sooner lasted an excruciating three minutes.1 Bruce hadn’t trained to deal with someone who ran. After the fight, he came to the conclusion that if he’d known some Western boxing, he would have dispensed with his opponent much sooner.2
While it’s true that Bruce originally studied and taught the classical Chinese art of Wing Chun, it is not to be confused with Jeet Kune Do. In a letter to William Cheung, dated January 4, 1969, Bruce admitted to having virtually abandoned Wing Chun:
William, I’ve lost faith in the Chinese classical arts—though I still call mine Chinese—because basically all styles are products of land swimming, even the Wing Chun school. So my line of training is more toward efficient street fighting with everything goes, wearing head gear, gloves, chest guard, shin-knee guards, etc. For the past five years now I’ve been training the hardest and for a purpose, not just dissipated hit-miss training.
I’ve named my style Jeet Kune Do—reason for my not sticking to Wing Chun [is] because I sincerely feel that this style has more to offer regarding efficiency.”3
By this time, Bruce had already immersed himself in the study of Western boxing and fencing. In a letter to James Lee dated July 31, 1965, Bruce wrote, “I’m having a Gung Fu system drawn up—this system is a combination of chiefly Wing Chun, fencing and boxing.”4 By 1969, he had for the most part dropped Wing Chun and the classical Chinese arts. Soon afterward, he would begin writing what would eventually be published as The Tao of Jeet Kune Do and Bruce Lee’s Commentaries on the Martial Way.
Because of Bruce’s untimely death, neither volume appears in a form he would have intended to publish, but from these notes, we can see the heavy influence of boxing and fencing. Entire passages are quoted from boxing sources, mainly from Jack Dempsey and Edwin Haislet, and the major arguments for using the straight lead can be found in the writings of Jim Driscoll.1
People have assumed that Bruce Lee turned to fencing because his brother was a fencing champion in Hong Kong, but this was probably not the case. According to Ted Wong, “People always say Bruce Lee looked into fencing because his brother’s a fencer. I doubt it. There had to have been some kind of writing that connected boxing to fencing. Driscoll mentioned that connection, as did Haislet. I doubt that the main interest in fencing came because of his brother.”6 As you’ll see throughout this book, Bruce made direct references to Driscoll and Haislet that clearly explain how straight punching evolved out of fencing. In fact, it seems that at one time it was common knowledge that the British had revived boxing because of fencing.7
The most frequently cited fencing sources in The Tao of Jeet Kune Do come from Roger Crosnier, Julio Martinez Castello, and Hugo and James Castello. But the crucial stance and mechanical nuances come from Aldo Nadi and appear in Bruce Lee’s Commentaries on the Martial Way. The three major influences on the straight lead specifically are Jim Driscoll, Jack Dempsey, and Aldo Nadi.
A N G R Y Y O U N G M E N
If his disillusionment with the status quo is what drove Bruce Lee to develop Jeet Kune Do, it was pugilistic regression that prompted Driscoll and Dempsey to write. Both authored books in an attempt to preserve the dying art of straight punching. And though Nadi’s book was fueled by his intense love of fencing, that feeling was matched by his utter disgust with the fencing practices of his time.
Figure 2: Jim Driscoll.
P E E R L E S S J I M
Early 1900s Welsh featherweight champion Jim Driscoll authored a series of boxing books, in an attempt to rectify the pathetic state of British boxing. Chief among these slim but highly illuminating volumes is The Straight Left and How To Cultivate It —a book that would eventually find its way into Bruce Lee’s hands.
Driscoll lamented the decline of British boxing, which he blamed on “circumstantial evidence” that supported the effectiveness of swinging punches. Remember that primal swinging motions are observed in bears and cats. Driscoll referred to uneducated fighters as “Bear-Cats.” In an unfortunate set of circumstances, a succession of Bear-Cats outweighed and overpowered a series of British boxers.
In particular, Driscoll cited the rise of the wildly swinging Frank Craig, aka The Coffee Cooler, as the reason for the “Decline and Fall of British Boxing.” Because swings are easier to see and appear to have more power behind them, British spectators believed them to be more effective. Driscoll argued that had The Cooler met an educated fighter, he would not have fared well, and also dryly pointed out that just because The Cooler chewed gum while fighting, aspiring fighters adopted gum chewing to improve their fighting abilities.
Flying in the face of thousands of years of fighting science, Bear-Cats such as The Cooler led the public to the weak conclusion that swinging like an animal was more effective than straight hitting. In very little time, British fistic science backslid considerably. Driscoll knew he need look no further than the development of the rapier to argue the merits of straight punching.8
It is most likely that this is where Bruce Lee got many of his ideas for applying the fencing straight thrust to Jeet Kune Do. “It’s Western sword fencing—without the sword,” he used to say.9 The source of that principle was Jim Driscoll, who wrote:
And this is where the straight left comes in. Not, as is usually supposed, mainly as a mode of attack, but rather as a more effective and valuable means of keeping an opponent at a respectful distance. I have remarked elsewhere that the science of modern boxing as instituted by Figg and Broughton was, and has always remained, a material development of the art of fencing. It is practically sword fencing without the sword, and follows in all its movements, or, rather, should follow, the same principles.10
Compare to The Tao of Jeet Kune Do:
Like a fencer’s sword that is always in line, the leading jab is a constant threat to your opponent. Basically, it is Western sword fencing without a sword and the primary target is your opponent’s eyes.11
During Driscoll’s time, American boxing had not yet declined in the way British boxing had, and Driscoll cited straight shooters such as Jack Dempsey as model fighters for their straight hitting, weight transfer, and footwork.12
T H E M A N A S S A M A U L E R
It wouldn’t take long, however, for American boxing to succumb to the evils of commercialization. In 1950, Jack Dempsey published Championship Fighting: Explosive Punching and Aggressive Defence in an attempt to correct a situation that, ironically, he had inadvertently helped create with his hard-hitting style. Dempsey explained how his popularity resulted in a lowest common denominator approach to pugilism:
Unfortunately, my big gates did more to commercialize fighting than anything else in pugilistic history. As a commercial enterprise, the fight-game began attracting people who knew little or nothing about self-defence. Hoping to make quick money, they flocked into boxing from other fields. They came as promoters, managers, trainers, and even instructors. Too often they were able to crowd out old timers because they had money to invest, because they were better businessmen, or merely because they were glib-talking hustlers. They mistaught boys in gymnasiums. Those mistaught youths became would-be fighters for a while; and when they hung up their gloves, they too became instructors.
At this writing lack of worthwhile talent in the heavyweight division is particularly appalling. It’s almost unbelievable that the heavy division should have declined so far since the days when I was fighting my way up in 1917, 1918, and 1919.13
All of this made Dempsey, well, fighting mad. Of Championship Fighting, Dempsey told biographer Roger Kahn, “I wrote it because there is such ignorance about boxing. . . . Most of the boxing I see today is just embarrassing.”14 Among Dempsey’s technical complaints regarding straight hitting were the following:
Beginners are not grounded in the four principal methods of putting the bodyweight in fast motion: (a) falling step, (b) leg spring, (c) shoulder whirl, (d) upward surge.
The extremely important power line in punching seems to have been forgotten.
The wholesale failure of instructors and trainers to appreciate the close co-operation necessary between the power line and weight motion results generally in impure punching —weak hitting.
Explosive straight punching has become almost a lost art, because instructors place so much emphasis on shoulder whirl that beginners are taught wrongfully to punch straight without stepping whenever possible.
Failure to teach the falling step (“trigger step”) for straight punching has resulted in the left jab being used generally as a light, auxiliary weapon for making openings and “setting up,” instead of as a stunning blow.
Necessity for the three-knuckle landing is never pointed out.15
Figure 3: Jack Dempsey.
Dempsey was a major influence on the JKD straight lead. Indeed, in his own copy of Championship Fighting, Bruce had underlined key words from the above passage. Among them were “putting body weight in fast motion,” “power line,” “shoulder whirl,” “trigger step,” and “three-knuckle landing.” These are issues that we’ll soon address in greater detail.
T H E B A D B O Y O F F E N C I N G
Of the Straight Lead Triumvirate, I’ve saved the most colorful character for last: Aldo Nadi, fencing legend and four-time Olympic medalist at the 1920 Antwerp Olympics, whose offthe-strip escapades were every bit as thrilling as his fencing triumphs.
Loaded with an arrogance that is justified when accompanied by genius, Nadi’s contempt for the rest of the world was also driven by an intense passion for fencing. These polarized sides of Nadi impart a sense of urgency to his treatise On Fencing. Among the benefits to be derived from the foil, he lists general health, intellectual acuity, body composition, scholastic achievement, values, and character building. Simply put, “Man is how he behaves sword in hand.”16
And while Nadi was obviously driven to write On Fencing by his love for the sport, he too was alarmed by what he saw as the decline of his sport, particularly in America. “In matters of tradition and principle,” he wrote, “I fear the word compromise cannot be found in my vocabulary, let alone in my academy.”17
Like Dempsey, Nadi was frustrated by the dearth of quality teachers of his art:
What confounds the qualified teacher is that anyone, here, can proclaim himself a Fencing Master overnight, and get away with it. Many old masters must be turning in their graves; and if they could only join us for a while, they would certainly say something on the subject. The history of fencing tells us that this art was developed throughout the centuries via death and blood, and gradually mastered as a science by hundreds of scholars who devoted their entire lives to its study and research.
It appears that many American teachers take half a dozen lessons (perhaps from another self-appointed teacher), read hurriedly a treatise of most doubtful value, and quickly obtain a position at a suitable university, college, or high school. In a similar way, I might apply for a chair of higher mathematics, or surgery, in one of our universities. Instead of landing the job however, I might be politely escorted to an asylum.18
Figure 4: Aldo Nadi (Photo by Rudolf courtesy of Laureate Press).
Known for his playboy antics and apparent bitterness, Nadi developed a reputation as something of a bad boy, and this naturally spilled over into his approach to fencing technique. His raised left heel, a Nadi trademark adopted by Bruce Lee, is to this day considered bad form. “All fencing teachers will tell you to keep both feet constantly flat on the strip,” he wrote. “I say—No.”19 Trying to understand this rule boggles the mind, because it is nearly impossible to maintain springy mobility while trying to keep your left heel on the ground. Try it sometime. It’s almost physiologically impossible to be fast and mobile while keeping both feet flat. There’s a reason why we call slowpokes flatfooted.20
In line with Nadi’s break from tradition, it’s not surprising that Bruce Lee—with his disdain for classical, rigid training lacking scientific investigation—would be influenced by Nadi’s On Fencing. I suppose the reasons that modern fencers still practice with the heel down—even while they claim Nadi’s footwork was his greatest strength—are the same reasons that modern martial artists fail to investigate the advantages of the straight lead. But what those reasons are remains a mystery.
N O T E S
1 M. Uyehara, Bruce Lee: The Incomparable Fighter (Santa Clarity, CA: Ohara Publications, Inc., 1988), p. 15.
2 In conversation with Ted Wong, March 18, 2004.
3 Bruce Lee, ed. John Little, Letters of the Dragon: Correspondence, 1958 – 1973 (Boston: Tuttle Publishing, 1998), pp. 110–111.
4 Ibid., p. 60.
5 Ted Wong with John Little, “Bruce Lee’s Lead Punch: Ted Wong Explains Jun Fan Jeet Kune Do’s Most Explosive Technique!” Bruce Lee: The Offical Publication & Voice of the Jun Fan Jeet Kune Do Nucleus, June 2000, p. 67.
6 In conversation with Ted Wong, June 8, 2004.
7 Captain John Godfrey ed. W.C. Heinz, “The Useful Science of Defence” in The Fireside Book of Boxing (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1961), pp. 158–162. “The Useful Science of Defence” was the first printed work on boxing. Godfrey was a regular at Figg’s Amphitheater. An avid fencer and boxer, he was quick to point out the natural evolution of boxing out of fencing. Published in 1747, the book was a huge commercial success, and two copies currently reside in the British Museum.
8 Jim Driscoll, The Straight Left and How To Cultivate It (London: Athletic Publications, LTD.), p. 20. Driscoll summed up the evolution of the rapier:
To put my argument in other words, the “Bear-Cat” brigade are bludgeon fighters, who disdain the use of the rapier, for the simple reason that they are utterly ignorant of the finer points of the game. Yet the whole history of single combat refutes their argument. Man did not abandon the club as a weapon because he preferred the rapier as a parlour pastime, but because the sword proved itself to be the more useful weapon. And it was by similar process of discovery that the axe, which had superseded the club, gave way to the sword and buckler, then to the case of swords,until even the broadsword and sabre were abandoned in favour of the rapier.
9 Lee, ed. John Little, Jeet Kune Do: Bruce Lee’s Commentaries on the Martial Way (Boston: Tuttle Publishing, 1997), p. 210.
10 Driscoll, The Straight Left and How To Cultivate It, p. 27.
11 Lee, Tao of Jeet Kune Do (Santa Clarita, CA, Ohara Publications, Inc., 1975), p. 100.
12 Driscoll, The Straight Left and How To Cultivate It, p. 13.
All the real champions and first fighters today, American and French, are “straight lefters,” disciples of the old British school. Jack Dempsey, Tom and Mike Gibbons, Harry Wells, Georges Carpentier, Benny Leonard, Mike O’Dowd, Pete Herman, Eugene Leonard, Jimmy Wilde, etc., are all men who hit straight, use the left hand as it should be used, are fully aware of the fact that the feet are as important as the hands in the boxing game, and are first, last, and all the time, boxers first and fighters afterwards. They can fight and do. They would not be champions if they didn’t. But when punching they send all their weight along behind their deliveries
13 Jack Dempsey, Championship Fighting: Explosive Punching and Aggressive Defence (New York: Prentice Hall, Inc., 1950), pp. 10–13.
14 Roger Kahn, A Flame of Pure Fire: Jack Dempsey and the Roaring ’20’s (New York: Harcourt Brace, 1999), pp. 70–71.
15 Dempsey, Championship Fighting: Explosive Punching and Aggressive Defence, pp. 18–19.
16 Aldo Nadi, On Fencing, (Bangor, ME: Laureate Press, 1994), p. 9.
17 Aldo Nadi ed. Lance Lobo, The Living Sword: A Fencer’s Autobiography (Sunrise, FL: Laureate Press, 1995), p. 375.
18 Nadi, On Fencing, p. 5.
19 Ibid., p. 51.
20 Ibid., p. 52. Nadi’s explanation for the impossibility of keeping the left foot flat:
If a fencer’s guard is a as compact as it should be with feet in their correct respective positions, and legs bent to the proper degree, the left heel usually cannot help rising from the floor. So much so that most people have to practice for some time before being able to keep it as near the strip as indicated. For these people, to keep it down completely would require a terrific strain on the main tendon of the left leg; or else they would have to keep their legs insufficiently bent—and no foilsman can afford that. I insist upon this fundamental difference from the teachings of others.