The Magic of the Gi
By David Wollard
Who remembers as a child hearing those famous words emanating from the television set, "Look! Up in the sky! It's a Bird, it's a plane ... It's Superman!" Or what about expressions like "the clothes make the man"? I guess in Superman's case, that was probably true. He just didn't look like himself doing "Super" deeds in a plaid shirt and khaki trousers.That brings me the topic of this small editorial. It's about the magic of that little white top and pants we put on when venturing into the world of martial giddiness. I am not talking about the halter-top, sequin-studded, gold-lame' outfits seen at what pass for tournaments these days, which are little more than movie auditions, but the crisp outfits that held together buy a faded, tattered piece of cotton, seem to embody us with untold abilities or powers. At least that is the way it seems.
There is indeed something magical about that uniform. It goes by many names, Gi, Dobok, and others. Some are longer and some shorter, but the feeling is the same. Many times I have felt less than enthusiastic about going to class or teaching. I might even try to just throw on some shorts and a T-shirt and perform kata. After all, it is highly unlikely that you will be attacked walking from Wal-Mart in your gi, (unless you live in Arkansas), so you should be adept at performing techniques in whatever attire you find yourself. But as I try to perform kata, kihon, etc., there seems to be no "umph" to it. No "sparkle", no FIRE! So, in the privacy of my home, I pull the unimposing outfit from my bag, slip it on, and tie that old cotton belt around my waist one more time.
Something magical happens. My demeanor changes, my soreness goes away, my technique becomes deadly serious and I am ready for anything!
It is the same going to class. After a late night in the ER, I am weary both physically and mentally. My legs are still throbbing after 12 hours on my feet, but the bag goes in the front seat and off I go. Once there, I slip into the gi, and the transformation, the metamorphosis takes place and for that time, I feel almost invincible.
I have been most fortunate to train with some of the best in the history of Texas martial arts, like the late Ronny Cox and his brother Dennis, Keith D. Yates, Johnny Duncan, Larry Wheeler, Victor Folks, Royce Young, Brian Robbins, Cliff Dillehay, Roy Kurban, and of course my dear friend and long time Sensei and mentor, Michael Proctor and the fellow yudansha from his dojo whom I am proud to call family. I have also trained with Nabeshima Kenshi and Fred Ishii with the Dallas-Ft. Worth Kendo/Iaido Kyokai. In all these situations, the moments have been magical in some form or another.
From these individuals I have learned the history of the Gi, the belts and tradition. While some might criticize tradition or the uniform, I think without both our lives would be much less fulfilled.
In reality, we know there is really nothing magical about a few yards of cloth and an old belt. However what they together represent, the blood, the sweat, the tears and the joy cannot be denied. One who does not follow martial arts cannot begin to understand. Somehow though deep in the inner recesses, I would like to think that maybe there IS some truth that "the clothes (or should I say the gi) DO make the man.
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About the Author
David Wollard is a 5th dan in Renbudo Karate-do, working as an Emergency Room nurse in Arkansas.
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