Though I feel that I'm beginning to mature (or am I?) I still have a passion for gaming. Set me up with any console, no matter how old, and I'll get stuck in. I've only been a serious gamer for about four years, but I improve rapidly. One good game I have is a Japanese Kendo game, which I personally think is quite realistic. You choose a starting character, and train him up until he is excelling in speed, power, spirit, insight and other such attributes. You then work your way through towns, defeating dojos and wandering samurai until you begin to participate in Imperial Matches, and eventually fight your own master, and yourself in a dream like scene. It sounds weird and cliche, but it is good. I noticed while on it the other day, how the other warriors are beaten. There's this one guy, who I think is called Jengo, who's incredibly fast. He will leap upon you with many screeches, and beat you down with a bokken until you collapse. There's another called Nuatsamoa who attacks with an oar, Musashi style. My point is this: They can all be beaten. I'm sure anybody reading this will think of course they are beatable, they are computer generated pixels on a screen. I know this, but the point is that your style may change to beat them, but you can always beat them. You cannot be affected by their speed, or their power, because there is always a way around it. No opponent is unstoppable; Rocky Balboa got beaten once by Mr. T, so if he can be beaten everyone can be! It may take a while to work it out, but there is always a way. To use a matrix quotation 'They are part of a world that is limited by rules. That is why they will never be as strong or as fast as you'. There is a way around every opponent. Nick Evangelista said this, because it's true. If they are quick, upset their rhythm, if they are powerful, make them work to hit you, if they are quick and powerful, make them work harder. There is always a road. Just find it in the shrubbery.
Monday, 24 November 2008
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Frustration
I think that I'm now more depressed and frustrated then I've ever been. I've been fencing for about a week and a half since my injury, and it is incredibly frustrating. I can't lunge, and it's only now that I realise how big a role it has in fencing. I have to wait for fencers to come to me most of the time. This is fine with beginners, but more experienced people realise what I want them to do, and just back away. I've won most of my matches so far, but I prefer to focus on how I'm doing technique wise. I'm loosing more points than I should be, and I've been told it's going to be at least another four weeks before I'm back to normal. It's incredibly annoying to not be able to fence with my usual form and style. I arranged a match with the Norwich High School for the 29th, and I doubt whether I will be able to compete. The NFC is doing their annual competition and I know that I cannot compete in this, despite me looking forward to it. I'm told that I just have to deal with it and be patient, but it hasn't helped. Fencing was a way in which I could escape from the world of everyday problems and trivia, and now I can't, so I'm getting really wound up, fed up and frustrated.
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
ID and Ego
Once again, my English teacher has shed some light on my confusion, relating to why I become more angry than usual at this time in my fencing role. We were reading Kuhbla Kahn in the lesson, and this led to a discussion on Sigmund Freud. Freud stated that there were three divisions in the mind. There is the superego, which is what we aspired to be, which is usually influenced by other people. There is the ego, which is what we are. Finally, there is the ID, which is everything that we were. This represents what we want, and what unconscious thoughts are made up of. Most of the time, the ID is repressed by the ego, but sometimes, the ID escapes, and this is known as a 'Freudian Slip'.
In fencing, I try to focus on my ego, because focusing on the superego makes you forget about what is happening on the piste in front of you. Most of the time, I manage to keep my ID under control. When a hit is awarded unfairly or without proper consideration, my ID begins to beg me to question the hit, and argue against it, but my ego knows that I should respect the referee. If the hit is then awarded against me unfairly, my ID becomes very angry, but I usually manage to restrain myself from becoming angry. It has been recently though, that my ID is overcoming my ego, and I don't know why. I find myself becoming angry sometimes, and I argue against hits more frequently than normal. I don't want to become a bad loser or anything like that, and there is no guarantee that it will happen. Even so, the ID is always there, waiting to be released onto the world. I guess Rob would call this my dark side. Maybe I just need to balance the two out. Freud said that we have a safety valve for our ID, which lies in jokes and dreams, ways of skirting around the political correctness and prejudice. So, when I fence, I shall just try and have a laugh along the way.
Sunday, 9 November 2008
Romanticism
The title of this post may seem a little odd, but that will be explained later on. The subject of this post starts with Ernest Hemmingway, an author who wrote several diverse culture novels. We were discussing this in English, and the teacher explained why the dialogue is so odd in The Old Man and the Sea. He said it reads in such a boring way because it emphasises romanticism. Romanticism is said to be the fusion of man and nature. This meant that the old man in the story is only named near the end so that he retains his archetype and highlights his romanticism with the sea, as the same description applies to both the old man and the sea. The teacher then singled me out, and asked me to describe what it felt like when I was 'in the zone' while fencing. This is now where I discuss it.
When I get in the zone, I don't feel very energetic. It's not really a sort of 'Eye of the Tiger' mood, despite what people expect it to be. It is basically, an example of romanticism. I feel very peaceful, aware of everything going on around me, and not just in the environment, but part of it. All the troubles and trivia of the world are brushed aside when I'm on the piste. I don't have to think, because my brain and my body are perfectly co-ordinated. They don't stop to think, and they are not harboured by the limits of the physical anatomy. Everything just seems to flow. A second seems like a minute and vice versa. My mind never stops, and only remembers that I am a person after the bout. Before that I am just a fencer. So when people ask me what happened at points in the fight, if I have been in the zone, I can't honestly remember. My mind will not have stopped to consider it, as it will have automatically responded.
Romanticism for me happens very rarely, but when it all snaps into place, it feels great. Maybe that's why I fence. To achieve a state of mind that men search for over decades of meditation and philosophy. Perhaps.
Saturday, 1 November 2008
Injuries
Today was meant to be a happy day, of all things. I was going to be fencing in the Eastern Regions competition, but in the end I didn't. Not really anyway. I got there. I was in fencing gear. I fenced someone who I had fenced before, and I was not up to my usual standard. My hamstring muscle was twinging and aching. I did some stretching, and it went away. It was halfway through my first fight that my leg began to twinge again. I tried to ignore it, and I lunged. I felt a brief popping sensation before my hamstring muscle flared with a brutal agony. After the fight, I hobbled over to the benches, and stayed there for the rest of the day. As I was applying ice, I was informed that I had torn my hamstring and would not be able to fence for at least four weeks. Disaster! There goes Cambridge Leon Paul series, my school match on Monday against the UEA, my London training days. Four weeks of non-fencing! At the minute, I am still in pain, but it has dimmed slightly. Thankfully, other N.A.F fencers who were there kept me informed of their progress. I have to note they all did well.
When I first started fencing, I thought it would be exciting to be injured. I have no idea why, but I did. Now, I never want to be injured EVER AGAIN. I'll still attend my clubs though, but as a spectator.
Do not stand by my piste and weep,
I am not there, I'm on the side holding the clipboards and stopwatches.
Thursday, 30 October 2008
My Right Foot
I was told yesterday that my right foot, is, in fact, wrong. David pointed out that when I lunge, my foot turns outward. When he had told me this, I started fencing again, and I suddenly noticed it. It was only a few inches off course, but it looked so obvious, I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it before. I know it isn't a disaster, but it is slightly worrying how these habits take hold. I will need to coax it back into its rightful place. On this note, one should look closely at themselves fencing. A full-length mirror is quite useful. Practice some basic moves, and see whether anything else needs a slight adjustment.
Monday, 27 October 2008
Alone
At a refereeing course yesterday, I noticed a slightly disturbing thing. We were watching Olympic finals, and during this, one fencer scored a brilliant riposte. The entire audience cheered, but when his opponent scored a hit, only a tiny fraction cheered. I realised that it must feel quite bad to have no-one supporting you. I have seen fencers at competitions have crowds of people at their end of the piste, whereas their opponent only has his or her parents or coach. It struck a chord within me. The feeling of loneliness must lower your fencing performance dramatically, because of it's psychological disadvantages. Now, I have realised, that that is not the case. However many people support someone, it doesn't make an ounce of difference when they are on the piste. For on the piste, no-one else can fight with you. More often than not, you have to fight with yourself, to overcome your emotions. Although I may not have many people up my end of the piste, there is always support in my mind. Fencers shouldn't base their skill on their number of supporters. Likewise, their opponents shouldn't be put off by the opposing numbers. As long as they have confidence in their own abilities, they will always have the largest amount of support. Here's a line from a poem I found:
'When the mind opens, the twin sword will fall
For it has seen the hopeless cause of its passion
And so the same person fights hand in hand with himself
Gives himself hope
Gives himself voice... '
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