Tai Otoshi Inner Secrets 1 & 2

If you love tai, I'm hoping to add to the romance. If you don't feel you quite "get" tai, I'm betting you will feel much stronger about it after trying the first "Inner secret".

Sometimes, actually quite often, inner secrets are things we don’t even know that we know. During the last few years, I’d realized my old tai-otoshi was somehow gone. Something was missing. I could do a respectable tai-otoshi, and what I taught to my students worked well for them. There was no glaring problem, except that I knew something was missing. Then, I discovered an inner secret about my tai-otoshi after a sixty - plus year acquaintance with it.

After about three or so months into my beginning judo, I’d discovered my tokui waza. Or, as is truly the usual case, it discovered me. I nowadays communicate with three of my former Mankato State College Judo Club teammates and it has been remarked, from time to time, that they recall my tai-otoshi as a formidable throw. This, however, aroused my curiosity as to why it had worked so well. When a photo from long ago was recently sent to me, I was immediately awakened by something obvious.

This is the B&W photo of me at Mankato State Judo Club sometime around 1961 throwing my sensei, Paul Sheehan, with tai-otoshi. Below that is Kazuo Ito demonstrating his tai-otoshi. Ito became 9th dan and was the favorite student of legend Kyuzo Mifune. People used to say, when asked how Mifune did something, "Ask Ito. He will show you." If at this point you don't yet know who Mifune was, your most immediate next judo activity could be to check him out. It turns out that I was doing my tai just like Ito did it. (I love it when that happens.) Nice to know I'm in good company, tai-otoshi-wise.

            As you've possibly figured out, the lift of my collar hand is the secret. Not only is it in this position, it got there as the predominant "power" driving force throughout. It is the tsurite, the "lifting hand".

Quite often, the emphasis is put on the sleeve hand’s lift-and-pull. Perhaps that's because it is more noticeable when watching the throw. Additionally, the sleeve hand pulls in the direction of the kuzushi, so it is obviously very important. That is when the collar hand, the tsurite, gets overlooked, is given less emphasis, becomes a secondary consideration.

Thus, many new tai-otoshi learners allow the collar hand to lag behind, getting it behind their own shoulder. It’s a very common mistake. It can lead to shoulder damage, too. It also robs the throw of a huge amount of the correct use of force. Worse, a weak collar hand allows the force of the throw to come around and back into tori, moving it out of the zone of force that goes in the direction of the initial kuzushi. Go beyond the admonishment to not leave it behind; start with it.

In the pictures, it might also seem my left hand has lapsed downward, but it is actually completing a circle that was initially upward and outward toward uke's right front corner. Via the arrows, you can see that it and the right hand are making a large, congruous circle.

To help get the collar hand working right, It is a clever trick to think of the collar hand beginning the throw. Use it as an initiating action. Give it as much of a role in creating kuzushi as the sleeve hand gets. Do that, and it won't lag behind. Actually try it several times, until it feels like a powerful part of the throw.

I can even now recall what the correct use of the collar hand felt like when a sandan from Japan, Ken Ichiyama, threw me with his monster tai-otoshi. Back then, there were often Grand Champion divisions added to our local shiai, Ken would win the division above me and we’d be paired to compete. We bowed, took grips, and I think it took him about thirty seconds to nail me with a lightening tai otoshi.

After my loss to his devastating tai-otoshi, I went back to my dojo and tried to devise a way to combat this. My sensei suggested I could jump over Ken’s blocking leg. So, I practiced this many, many times. The next time we met. I was ready. This time I had the answer! Ichiyama came snapping in for his tai, I was ready. I jumped over his leg. He threw me faster and harder than the last time. As I was getting up, I heard him say, “Thanks for jumping.” I can viscerally recall the feeling of that collar hand owning me every millisecond of the way. I know it now, but didn’t sort it out back then. Ironically, I was using my hand the same way in my own tai-otoshi throws, as the picture shows. That experience also brought home to me why tai is considered a hand technique.

In order to accomplish this and be sure of its efficacy, the collar hand must be part of the very beginning of the throw. It isn't a high collar grip, just standard. Tori should feel as if it begins early, almost triggers the throw. It must get above tori, while tori simultaneously gets below it (otoshi). When you try starting by using the sleeve hand for your primary lift and pull, and it seems physically challenging, it is because the collar hand isn’t right there in the action at the start. 

If you go watch tai otoshi expert Neil Adams teach "Korean" style tai otoshi, you'll see what I'm talking about.

Here is something you might try in practice. Do the throw without the sleeve hand and make the collar hand do it all, being sure to keep uke's body from touching yours. This will give you a feel for how the collar hand works, and it will assure that you continue the throw in its intended front corner kuzushi direction. Of course, the sleeve hand can add to the rotation near the end, but you can start with it not holding on at all; or, if your partner is so inclined, uke can finish it with a front roll fall and no sleeve grip is necessary.

Another idea for you. Think of the hand moving the same way it would if you were going to do a front roll fall, the hand starting at your shoulder. In the picture, you can see that if I just let go of my right hand I could go into one. (The picture feet are, of course, reversed from the basic zempo kaiten ukemi)

Tai is a te-waza, a hand technique. It is said that Kano used to do it without the blocking leg. As is often the case, students look at the big picture and miss the underlying details. We see the leg blocking and creating the completion of the throw, and focus on that aspect. This distracts from looking more closely on the "te" part, studying it as the primary ingredient, then seeing the leg action as secondary. We tend to do this isolation of the obvious with almost all throws, and it is a natural thing to do. We see the "big" action, and the smaller yet critical action escapes us.

There is the second secret that this tai otoshi analysis offers, as it informs us regarding all wazas. Look for the fundamentals; see the devils in the details. For example, think of all the throws where the leg sweeps; o-soto, uchi mata, harai goshi, o-uchi gari, and so on. We are totally absorbed in the big sweeping leg action; however, there is detail action before those sweeps and reaps, and without it, they don't do anything.

For tai, focus on the te-waza part and get the kuzushi and the blend of that into movement which takes uke beyond the point of recovery. Then show up with the leg.

Among the many things that can be done to assure a good tai-otoshi, I’m hoping the added "inner secrets", this discovery of my own early days unconscious competence, and now conscious competence, will be of value to you.

Remember to always ask, "What is making the judo work here?"

 

More Pull - Get Lower

 

More Pull - Get Lower

    “More pull. Get lower.” Perhaps you've heard these admonishments. Little did I know, in my early judo days when first I heard them, how critically important the advice was to successful judo throwing. The one we care about here is the first one, “More pull”.  

    I had to learn the appreciation of this the hard way. When a high grade Japanese sensei with whom we often trained gave this command, we pulled harder (while also trying to get lower at the same time). The sensei would come around again, stop, observe with inscrutable scrutiny, perhaps with a head nod or two, then say, “Okay, but more pull!” I pulled harder, and harder, and thought my fingernails might get ripped off. Then, a while later when he came around again, it was  More pull!  (“Wash, Rinse, Repeat”). There was no satisfying this man. Obviously, we weren’t putting enough beef into it. Or, so we thought. 

    Some years went by and I had an epiphany. So I asked my visiting Japanese friend, Kazuo Hirayama, Shorinji Kempo master and judo nidan, “When the Japanese sensei tells us ‘More pull!’, does that mean ‘Pull harder’ or does it mean, ‘Pull more’, as in don’t stop pulling?” I have no idea how difficult it was for Kazuo to make his tone and expression neutral and allow me to save face, having asked a question with such an obvious answer. 

“Don’t stop pulling”, he said. 

 Yet, we do. 

    When we do, the flow of the throw, and most often the complete throw, is abated. This is where throws get stuck. The brakes slam on. Dead stop. You’ve done everything up to this point, the kuzushi, the fitting in with good form, and for some reason the throw stops dead. Maybe, at this point, you can horse it over, but if you do, it’s no longer a judo throw, just a throw being done in a judo class. 

    As a sensei, it took me way too long to realize this was where my students were having a problem. I’ve come to call it the “two part throw effort”. Take time to watch others in randori and see how often a failed throw also has a dead pulling hand (the sleeve hand, hikite). 

    Test it yourself on a familiar front throw. There’s a good chance your form will be good, so if you actually used kuzushi, and focused on more pull as you do the throw, you will feel a smoother, effortless throw. If, on the other hand, when attempting your throw, you feel you have to bend over really big, face looking down to the mat, it means you didn’t do more pull. At the point where you want to bend over so as to use your butt to throw, pull! (Better late than never.) If you are bent over and looking straight down and see the mat instead of uke, then you strain and uke shows up on the mat, but that’s not a judo throw. Other throws that are not over the back or hip types sometimes require some manner of “second effort”. All “hopping” throws, like o-soto-gari and uchi mata, can of course be done without hopping or driving to the ground. If the only way you can make them work is by adding the second effort, you don’t have the throw skill down. Probably, adding continued pull will make a big difference.  It’s not entirely your fault. Much of this has to do with what happens when we first learn a throw. Throws have their own unique form. It is making this form that becomes our first goal. We have to make our throw look like the throw. Therefore, we have “check” point. 

    We step in and check it out. If you see a picture of a throw just before it is applied to kake, you can identify it. When we learn to complete a throw, this is where we tend to stop and examine all the pieces once again to see if they are in the correct place. We fit in, we stop and do a pre-flight check, then launch. This is the time when the “judo” goes away. There should be no pre-flight check in the successful judo throw. If that stoppage of pull exists, the launch effort then becomes the application of force at the point of critical mass. For example, seoi nage. The stoppage makes emphasis suddenly go totally into the forceful use of the butt, created by a strong bending over at the waist and a forcing backward of the butt. This actually creates  counter leverage and the need for more force. All too often, uke’s feet are solidly on the ground when this happens. (That’s because the stopping can cause uke’s balance to return and the kuzushi is lost.)

    Just before all the “Atomic Butt” action, the pulling stopped. Tori was in a seoi nage pose position. The throw becomes a two part action. When the pull stops, the judo stops. In teaching throws, when I see this, I force students to step in and only focus on continued pull of the hikite (usually the sleeve hand). I don’t let them stop the action at any time, forcing them all the while to keep pulling. That sometimes means standing there coaxing, “pull!, pull!, pull!, pull! From start to finish.  Sometimes, in the stuck position, just when everything is telling you to bend over, try just pulling, and very often the throw works from that alone. Once the throw is in the “We have lift-off” mode, uke’s feet just coming off the mat, the Atomic Butt, or the sweeping / reaping leg can come into play. 

Ways to Make Your Judo Work

• Mentally, see the whole throw at the very beginning of your throw. Our early judo experience compels us to think that just getting in is all that matters, because it’s the most challenging. When we get in, there comes a “What’s next?” moment. That is where we’d stop and check to see if the form was correct. Don’t stop in your pre-throw visualization. See it all, from start to finish. Try to imagine how it feels.  Then try it. 

 

• Uchi komi  is good for kuzushi  and tsukuri. It isn’t as functional for training the tsukuri to the kake. Some Sensei have pointed out that it actually trains the judoka to stop; so don’t let it. Do throwing practice to offset that. A “Step in, step in, throw” drill is a good way to combine the two. 

 

• Do a lot of nage komi. It is important to do complete throws. Put emphasis on the continued pulling as its own task. Focus on the hikite pull (pulling or usually sleeve hand). 
• Keep saying  “pull!, pull!, pull!, pull!  to yourself. 

 

• Make this a conscious effort, a major part of your next dozen or so practices. It feels so good when it is working for you that it won’t be long before your throws will begin to want to just do it.

    Here, in the photos from Tom Crone’s Judo Basics, is hikite doing its job. As the pull continues across, it does not suddenly drop to tori’s belly. It keeps pulling. In frame 2, the uke is already going around and over. You can see the continued pull by looking at the stress lines on uke’s sleeve in the triceps area. (Of note: Tori is not bent over at the waist but angled at the hip. It is uki goshi, and the continued pull at this point is already bringing uke over. For all intents and purposes, this throw is over. We have lift off!)

    Many think the idea is to get in and lift uke up, then dump uke onto the mat. However, that causes a stoppage in the process if the thought is two-part. The best idea is to think of throws as singular circular actions, with uke being brought around, not just up, The arrows in the above photo show this. This continued circular idea is what Kyuzo Mifune emphasized. 

    This won’t do you any service if you only try it a couple of times but don’t make it a complete part of your judo. This is where the mental part of judo comes into play. We hear about “focus” in martial arts study, and I think our definition should include what I am going to call “long-range focus”. Go beyond focusing on the task at hand, of the moment, and focus on focusing the next time. How? before you get on the mat, and ask yourself what you will focus on. Do this many times, and again as needed. Ask it just before or as you bow onto the class area. Focus is the simplest and possibly the most difficult aspect of any learning process. If you focus on “More Pull!”, it will make your judo work.