Does sparring by any other name feel the same?

            My Opponent is My Teacher; My Ego is My Enemy– Renzo Gracie

            We certainly have many names to describe martial arts activity and its participants.   Beyond the stylist names such as karateka, judoka, taekwondoin, or jiu jiteros, we are also referred to as fighters, players, combatants, competitors, pugilists or grapplers, and more colorful terms.    Similarly, we engage in activities interchangeably called sparring, fighting, competition, or combat.   But are these terms synonymous or interchangeable?   I would argue that is more than semantics and is detrimental when people throw these terms out willy-nilly.

            As I have stated before and elsewhere, I generally refrain from referring to our students as being fighters or having a fight coming up.   We have some very tough competitors, but even a competitive match in a combat sport isn’t a true fight in my book.    Even within combat sports, there can be a huge discrepancy….it is hard for me to compare an 8-year-old green belt in a local TKD tournament to a professional in a UFC title “fight”, but the same term is used for both.     Naturally, one seems closer to the real thing than the other, but I would say neither is the same as someone who is approached by a predator.    I am certainly not the first to point out the difference between an asymmetrical surprise attack by a predator who has stacked the deck against you, versus a mutually agreed upon contest with specified rules that are designed to limit the potential for permanent damage and true long-term injury.  Soundbites such as “bringing a knife to a gun fight” or if “it is a fair fight then your tactics suck” might be cliché but still highlight the disparity of force in a true fight.   And no one has to deal with the psychological aftermath that comes with defending yourself after competing in a tournament.    (I also realize we could further split hairs between social versus asocial violence, but you get my drift, and if you don’t understand this distinction, please learn.) 

            Other similar words that are used interchangeably can really mean different things to different people.   Sparring can be lighthearted for some, but Sifu Mornie Maul of the SSBD system says that in silat, an invitation to spar is understood to be a polite way of challenging to a fight (but is it really a fight or just an agreed upon dual?  Ugg…I am confusing myself now.)   Beyond that type of context, the recreational BJJ practitioner and a professional grappler in a training camp would both describe their activity as rolling, but “wanna roll?” is a much more loaded question for one than the other.   

            A competition certainly seems to describe the sport component of martial arts a little better, but even then, connotations may differ.   For starters, competition can (although doesn’t necessarily) invoke attitudes contrary to the ideal of mutual friendship and respect that martial arts are supposed to instill.   It doesn’t help that in martial arts, we can be discussing techniques against an “enemy”, an “attacker” or “bad guy”, or an opponent.   Even if care is taken to use them in the proper context of what you are teaching (self-defense versus sport, etc.) when thrown out in the same class, it is hard for students not to conflate them.      Like the Renzo quote says, Ego is the true enemy.  But when competitive success is driven by ego, it is easy to project it to the person across from you.

            Perhaps those who use the term players and play are the ones most accurately describing what most of do on a regular basis.   This doesn’t necessarily mean we play fight (although the case could be made), but play implies lighthearted and having fun.   Playing is where creativity happens.   In silat, if you are not trying to be confrontational, you ask to play.    It should be no surprise that Tai Chi Ch’uan, with its philosophy of focusing on the process and willingness to invest in loss, has a long-standing tradition of referring to themselves as players. 

            Tai chi has another tradition that goes to the heart of the matter.   After most competitive matches, rolls, sparring, etc., there is a bow, or a fist bump, or bro hug, all with plenty of atta boys and acknowledgements.    While not exclusive to tai chi, I feel it is more tradition in tai chi to say “thank you” to your partner.   Thank you for providing the opportunity to learn and improve.   As Lowenthal puts it, resolving your issues is the point.   Saying thank you for that opportunity certainly helps us keep perspective more than engaging in “fights” would.

            To be sure, there are many fine, honorable martial artists, who are both good people and good practitioners, who don’t follow these same vocabulary rules.   But it is worth noting that words often do mean something different to different people.  It is wise to make sure we appreciate the different connotations that words can be given, because sometimes they can have unintended consequences in changing our perspective and attitudes.