Then he kicked him in the head

January 17, 2009 | Category: Bear Stories

Just before he turned 8, Bear started contact sparring in tournaments.

Martial Arts is all new to me - it's only through Bear's interest that I'm learning about it. And I just don't think I can explain what it was like that first time to watch some big massive Frankenchild come at my son with the intent to punch the living crap out of him.

CD grabbed my hand, I'm pretty sure to hold me back from ripping off the other kid's head and drop kicking it.

Has it gotten any better since? Oh, hell, No.

I know, intellectually, that there's very little chance of harm. The matches are only 2 minutes long (feels like a freaking lifetime) and the competitors are wrapped in enough foam padding to be used as flotation devices in case of a water landing. They even have itsy-bitsy athletic cups to protect, well, their itsy-bitsy parts. (Bear's gonna kill me for this one day, isn't he?)

Bear learned to spar with no-contact for the first 2 years. And to be blunt, he hasn't make the adjustment well. He's found himself knocked out in the first round, frustrated and a little dazed.

Last night, CD and I argued about letting Bear try again. CD wanted to save his beloved son from feeling like a "loser". But... I had to fight back. But he says he wants to go. Don't we have a responsibility to support him?

So we decided to try one last tournament.

It was a conflicted group that made its way to Oak Lawn this morning. We signed Bear in, paid the fee (*ouch*), and tried not to let our feelings get the better of us.

After unremarkable performances in the first two events, it was time for sparring.

Bear came out with an intensity that made both CD and I jump back in surprise. We watched, in something like shock, as he attacked again and again. They kept calling points, but we haven't really learned what all that means yet.

Shaking, we realized just as they called it - that Bear had just won the first sparring match of his life.

He held his fists over his head as he went back to sit on the line.

We were almost in tears.

"You'll never guess," CD said to me quietly. "His opponent in the semi-final is the State Champion."

Sure enough, there were two amazing State Champs in Bear's group and one of them was bowing in as Bear's next opponent.

Bear twirled the moment the judge began the match and landed a high kick on the State Champ's head so hard that he knocked the boy's face guard loose. Once it was reattached, Bear came storming back with a punch that landed his opponent on the ground.

In the next moments, it became clear that although State Champ was better trained and experienced - he was a little afraid of the Tasmanian Devil that looked exactly like my son. But, eventually, he managed to land a kick that sent Bear down for a moment and the tide of momentum shifted. He went down fighting, but it was the State Champ who won that match - and then the tournament.

Bear didn't care. He walked out grinning, divesting himself of his padding as he gave his father a play-by-play. He was on Cloud 9.

And? And? "Mommy! Did you see? I kicked the State Champ in the head!!!"

(The other kid turned out to be a really nice guy. After the tournament, both he and his mom sincerely congratulated Bear. That's a lot of class for an 8 year old, and I think it impressed my son even more than his skill in the ring.)

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