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For as long as I can remember, we fencers have tried to separate ourselves from armored fighters, tried to show we are just as good, just as important as they are, just different. Whether we are or not is a discussion for another time, for now, let's just look at the differences in out outward appearances.
That difference can be summed up by what defines each fighter. The armored fighter is defined by his armor. If you see someone on the field in a breast plate, you know he's a heavy. Whereas the fencer is defined by what they fight with. If you see someone on the field carrying a steel sword, you know he's a rapier fighter.
But is the rapier the most important part of a fencer? No. It's not even the most important part of how a fencer looks. Heavy fighters have all sorts of limitations put on how the look: helmet, gorget, elbows, knees, even gauntlets if they don't want to use a basket hilt. Fencers, on the other hand, only have three limits to their appearance: they have to wear a mask or helmet, they have to wear a gorget, and they cannot show any skin. That's it.
So, with almost our entire body to play with, why do we all look alike? Aside from a very few individuals, we're all wearing one of a half-dozen styles. There's the completely modern fencing jacket, that same jacket covered with a tunic, a tunic and jerkin, or a doublet. Of course, some fencers do add their own personal touch with a tabard a-la The Three Musketeers, and then there's all the Jack Sparrow wannabes in their pirate coats and polyester do-rags.
I suppose, all things considered, six styles spread between the hundred and eighty or so fencers in Artemisia isn't too bad. After all, that means that there's only thirty people dressed the same as you, so if you change up your colors a bit, you won't blend in. Here's the thing, though. If you look around, I bet you dollars to doughnuts that everybody's tunic is white and their jerkins are black (except for the bad boys dressed all in black). The pleasant exception to this trend seems to be the doublet wearers. They, at least, have embraced the rainbow. Of course, an awful lot of them do seem to all have the same first name - Don - so it might just be a household thing or something.
I guess what it comes down to is whether you want to disappear into the crowd or stand out among your peers.
March 31, 2009
March 27, 2009
Omens, portents and augurs, oh my!
Walking into work this morning, I noticed the mirror that usually hangs by the door was on the ground, shattered. Needless to say, I wasn't overly surprised to discover that five of our six servers were down. Five hours later, and we were back up, but it got me thinking about how superstition plays a role in what we do.
Now I like to think that I'm a relatively realistic, fairly well-grounded type of guy, so of course superstition doesn't play a part in my fencing, does it? Of course not! Sure I've got some things I do every time I fence, but it has nothing to do with superstition. It's all about consistency.
Yeah, that's it! Consistency.
And actually, it is about consistency, at least for me. By doing the same steps in the same order before each bout, I'm attempting to force myself into a consistent state of mind for each fight. Does it work? Maybe a little too well. I am, at best, a mediocre tournament fencer. While I generally give my opponents a good run for their money, the last tournament I actually won was... eight? nine? years ago. Whereas on the melee field (a field barren of ritual, by just about anyone's standard), I am usually heralded by cries of, "Kill that guy!"
It might be that in my trying for consistency, I'm actually putting on my blinders and closing myself from options that I allow myself to see on the melee field. Maybe if I tried taking out some of the ritual from my tournament fighting (do I really need to spin around three times and spit into the wind before each bout?), I might find it is replaced by better flow and better fencing.
What about you? What are your rituals? And what purpose do they serve?
Now I like to think that I'm a relatively realistic, fairly well-grounded type of guy, so of course superstition doesn't play a part in my fencing, does it? Of course not! Sure I've got some things I do every time I fence, but it has nothing to do with superstition. It's all about consistency.
Yeah, that's it! Consistency.
And actually, it is about consistency, at least for me. By doing the same steps in the same order before each bout, I'm attempting to force myself into a consistent state of mind for each fight. Does it work? Maybe a little too well. I am, at best, a mediocre tournament fencer. While I generally give my opponents a good run for their money, the last tournament I actually won was... eight? nine? years ago. Whereas on the melee field (a field barren of ritual, by just about anyone's standard), I am usually heralded by cries of, "Kill that guy!"
It might be that in my trying for consistency, I'm actually putting on my blinders and closing myself from options that I allow myself to see on the melee field. Maybe if I tried taking out some of the ritual from my tournament fighting (do I really need to spin around three times and spit into the wind before each bout?), I might find it is replaced by better flow and better fencing.
What about you? What are your rituals? And what purpose do they serve?
March 23, 2009
Did I get anything?
At a tournament recently, there was one fighter who caught my attention. Unfortunately, they didn't catch it for the skill of their fighting, or the quality of their finery, instead it was for their ability and propensity to talk. In their first bout, they were struck with a questionable blow, and when their opponent asked about it, the two fighters discussed the hit for a few minutes before deciding to throw it out. Unfortunately, the next pass lead to another questionable shot and another discussion. Again, it was thrown out and again they ended in a questionable shot. After I think five of these passes, the fighter in question finally decided they'd been killed and relinquished the field. Sadly this was not the last bout the fighter had that day that resulted in multiple questionable hits and multiple discussions. This scenario begs the question: what should a fighter do when throwing or being thrown a questionable blow?
So, what is a questionable blow? A questionable blow is any hit that the fighter receiving the blow is unsure about the validity or location of the hit. Some examples are draw cuts where you are unsure whether they were drawn with the edge or flat, light touches, hits to the edge of a target area, or thrusts that get stuck in clothing. While each of these types of questionable hits have their own quirks, they can all be handled in a similar fashion.
The question is: what does it matter? Well, if you're always on the receiving end and either ignore them or argue about whether they're good or not, the problem is one of reputation. There's a good chance if you're the one who's constantly going up against Joe Newby who can't tell the flat from the edge, that you will wind up with a reputation as a rhino-hider. And while it's possible to overcome such a reputation, it is far easier to avoid in the first place. And if you're the one who always seems to come up against Lord Stone the Unfeeling, the danger is one of disillusionment. Your opinion of those you face will begin to change from that of worthy opponents to a bunch of rhino-hiders who should go play heavy. It may even lead to the point where fencing - or even the SCA itself - loses its appeal, which is something none of us want.
Okay, so now that you know what a questionable blow is and how it can affect you, what do you do about it? Well, that depends on where it happens. If you're at a fighter's practice, you handle it differently than you would in a tournament or in melee. Likewise, the person throwing the blow in question will handle it differently than the fighter on the receiving end.
The simplest situation for dealing with questionable blows is at fighter's practice. Since fighter's practices are for training, it isn't unusual for a fight to be interrupted by discussion. So, if you're fighting and either throw or receive a questionable blow, stop and ask your opponent if it was good or not and discuss the issue. If you're both undecided, you can even ask any onlookers for their opinion. Then, when a consensus is reached, keep fighting, but try for cleaner hits.
When you enter melees, things become more complicated because of the increased pace and adrenaline levels. If you throw a questionable blow in a melee, and your opponent doesn't take it, it's best to assume the hit wasn't good, and just try for cleaner hits. If they ask about it, tell them what you think it was, but let them decide if it was good or not. If someone throws a questionable shot at you, don't take it if you think it probably wasn't good, but if you just have no idea, or if your opponent asks about it and you can't say for sure that it wasn't good, take it. This keeps the pace of the battle going and helps alleviate the occasional adrenaline-driven missed shot.
And then there are tournaments. These are usually one-on-one fights like fighter's practices, but they add in adrenaline levels almost as high as a melee and do it all in front of a crowd. And if that wasn't bad enough, tournaments are supposed to showcase the fighter's honor as well as their skill. What's that mean? It means that, whether you like it or not, at least 75% of your reputation as a fighter will come from tournaments. It is also right up there with fighter's practices for the likelihood of questionable hits.
So, what do you do about it? You use something called a graduated response. By this I mean that each time it happens in a bout, you react a little stronger than the previous time. The first time you throw a questionable blow, you throw that shot away: if your opponent asks, you take the shot back, and if they don't, you just assume the shot wasn't good and try for a clean hit. The second time, if they ask, tell them what you think, but let them decide for themselves, and if they don't ask, ask them ("Did I get anything there?"), but take their decision and, again, clean up your fighting. After that, if you think you them you hit them, ask them if the shot was good, and if they don't think so (especially if they say it was too light, or didn't feel right), stop the fight and recalibrate with your opponent. It could very well be that they didn't feel your shot through their fencing jacket and mail shirt. And if the problem continues, yield. By this time, you'll be frustrated - either with yourself or your opponent - and beginning to get tired. It's far better to lose a tournament honorably than to "resort to their level" or crank up the power to deal with a rhino-hider, either of which can get you thrown off the field.
Now I know some of you are saying, "But I wasn't rhino-hiding, he's sloppy as all get-out! All he got me with were slaps, pops and flats." You and I might know that, but the people watching the tournament might not, especially those two in the shiny brass hats, sitting in the fancy chairs and rubbing their chins thoughtfully. Believe me, you do not want them to decide who the winner is. So, if you're fighting someone and they hit you with a shot that's sort of eh, ask them if it was good. Or, if they ask you, go ahead and take it. If they throw another questionable shot that might have been good, but you're not sure, go ahead and take it. But if you're pretty sure it wasn't good, ask them about it, but feel free to argue the point ("It felt flat to me"). The exception is if they keep throwing really light shots. If they do, stop the bout and recalibrate. Maybe that extra layer of fur you added to your tunic is making it harder for you to feel the shots. And if that doesn't do it, go ahead and take the shots, sloppy or not. After the tournament's over, you can go ahead and discuss things with them and, hopefully work things out for the future.
I've talked about what to do about questionable hits, but not how to avoid them in the first place. While it is impossible to truly do away with questionable hits, the best way to avoid them is to fight clean. I know, I know, I said that already. But what is clean fighting? Clean fighting is hitting your opponent where you want with absolutely no question about whether it was good or not. This means drills and practice. I'm sorry, but there just isn't any other way. And if you're already a clean fighter and an opponent still calls your stuff iffy (when they call it at all), just remember: mask or cup. I don't care who they are, if they get hit in either the mask or the cup, they will call it. One last note: With both melee and tournament fighting, I've talked about calling shots light. Unfortunately, there is no such thing as a light hit in rapier! Rapier is a touch weapon, so if you felt it, it was good.
So, as you stand there, facing Lord Stone the Unfeeling, just remember that a shot between the eyes works every time, and if it's Joe Newby you face, you were a beginner once, so give him credit for what he's trying to do.
So, what is a questionable blow? A questionable blow is any hit that the fighter receiving the blow is unsure about the validity or location of the hit. Some examples are draw cuts where you are unsure whether they were drawn with the edge or flat, light touches, hits to the edge of a target area, or thrusts that get stuck in clothing. While each of these types of questionable hits have their own quirks, they can all be handled in a similar fashion.
The question is: what does it matter? Well, if you're always on the receiving end and either ignore them or argue about whether they're good or not, the problem is one of reputation. There's a good chance if you're the one who's constantly going up against Joe Newby who can't tell the flat from the edge, that you will wind up with a reputation as a rhino-hider. And while it's possible to overcome such a reputation, it is far easier to avoid in the first place. And if you're the one who always seems to come up against Lord Stone the Unfeeling, the danger is one of disillusionment. Your opinion of those you face will begin to change from that of worthy opponents to a bunch of rhino-hiders who should go play heavy. It may even lead to the point where fencing - or even the SCA itself - loses its appeal, which is something none of us want.
Okay, so now that you know what a questionable blow is and how it can affect you, what do you do about it? Well, that depends on where it happens. If you're at a fighter's practice, you handle it differently than you would in a tournament or in melee. Likewise, the person throwing the blow in question will handle it differently than the fighter on the receiving end.
The simplest situation for dealing with questionable blows is at fighter's practice. Since fighter's practices are for training, it isn't unusual for a fight to be interrupted by discussion. So, if you're fighting and either throw or receive a questionable blow, stop and ask your opponent if it was good or not and discuss the issue. If you're both undecided, you can even ask any onlookers for their opinion. Then, when a consensus is reached, keep fighting, but try for cleaner hits.
When you enter melees, things become more complicated because of the increased pace and adrenaline levels. If you throw a questionable blow in a melee, and your opponent doesn't take it, it's best to assume the hit wasn't good, and just try for cleaner hits. If they ask about it, tell them what you think it was, but let them decide if it was good or not. If someone throws a questionable shot at you, don't take it if you think it probably wasn't good, but if you just have no idea, or if your opponent asks about it and you can't say for sure that it wasn't good, take it. This keeps the pace of the battle going and helps alleviate the occasional adrenaline-driven missed shot.
And then there are tournaments. These are usually one-on-one fights like fighter's practices, but they add in adrenaline levels almost as high as a melee and do it all in front of a crowd. And if that wasn't bad enough, tournaments are supposed to showcase the fighter's honor as well as their skill. What's that mean? It means that, whether you like it or not, at least 75% of your reputation as a fighter will come from tournaments. It is also right up there with fighter's practices for the likelihood of questionable hits.
So, what do you do about it? You use something called a graduated response. By this I mean that each time it happens in a bout, you react a little stronger than the previous time. The first time you throw a questionable blow, you throw that shot away: if your opponent asks, you take the shot back, and if they don't, you just assume the shot wasn't good and try for a clean hit. The second time, if they ask, tell them what you think, but let them decide for themselves, and if they don't ask, ask them ("Did I get anything there?"), but take their decision and, again, clean up your fighting. After that, if you think you them you hit them, ask them if the shot was good, and if they don't think so (especially if they say it was too light, or didn't feel right), stop the fight and recalibrate with your opponent. It could very well be that they didn't feel your shot through their fencing jacket and mail shirt. And if the problem continues, yield. By this time, you'll be frustrated - either with yourself or your opponent - and beginning to get tired. It's far better to lose a tournament honorably than to "resort to their level" or crank up the power to deal with a rhino-hider, either of which can get you thrown off the field.
Now I know some of you are saying, "But I wasn't rhino-hiding, he's sloppy as all get-out! All he got me with were slaps, pops and flats." You and I might know that, but the people watching the tournament might not, especially those two in the shiny brass hats, sitting in the fancy chairs and rubbing their chins thoughtfully. Believe me, you do not want them to decide who the winner is. So, if you're fighting someone and they hit you with a shot that's sort of eh, ask them if it was good. Or, if they ask you, go ahead and take it. If they throw another questionable shot that might have been good, but you're not sure, go ahead and take it. But if you're pretty sure it wasn't good, ask them about it, but feel free to argue the point ("It felt flat to me"). The exception is if they keep throwing really light shots. If they do, stop the bout and recalibrate. Maybe that extra layer of fur you added to your tunic is making it harder for you to feel the shots. And if that doesn't do it, go ahead and take the shots, sloppy or not. After the tournament's over, you can go ahead and discuss things with them and, hopefully work things out for the future.
I've talked about what to do about questionable hits, but not how to avoid them in the first place. While it is impossible to truly do away with questionable hits, the best way to avoid them is to fight clean. I know, I know, I said that already. But what is clean fighting? Clean fighting is hitting your opponent where you want with absolutely no question about whether it was good or not. This means drills and practice. I'm sorry, but there just isn't any other way. And if you're already a clean fighter and an opponent still calls your stuff iffy (when they call it at all), just remember: mask or cup. I don't care who they are, if they get hit in either the mask or the cup, they will call it. One last note: With both melee and tournament fighting, I've talked about calling shots light. Unfortunately, there is no such thing as a light hit in rapier! Rapier is a touch weapon, so if you felt it, it was good.
So, as you stand there, facing Lord Stone the Unfeeling, just remember that a shot between the eyes works every time, and if it's Joe Newby you face, you were a beginner once, so give him credit for what he's trying to do.
March 22, 2009
Hello World
Yes, I have finally taken the plunge and entered the blogosphere. As anyone who knows me knows, I'm not without opinions, the trouble for me blogging has always been one of what to focus my opinions on. So what is it that I have decided to focus my ranting on? Fencing, as done in The Society for Creative Anachronisms.
I know, I know: ho hum. But for the three or four of you who are still reading, you're probably wondering what I actually know about rapier fighting, so here you go: I began in the S.C.A. in 1989 in the Kingdom of Atenveldt. In 1991, I began fencing Olympic foil and epee. By 1993, I was transitioning over to the relatively new (to us, at least) style of SCA fencing and was authorized in 1994. Since then, I have lived in a few different kingdoms before finally settling down in Artemisia. Unfortunately, that same travelling hasn't allowed me to stay in any one kingdom long enough to achieve any official recognition for my skills. Not that I'm complaining (too much). If I was in this for the awards, I would have given up long before now. No, if my fifteen years of fencing shows anything, it's that I fence because I enjoy it.
I know, I know: ho hum. But for the three or four of you who are still reading, you're probably wondering what I actually know about rapier fighting, so here you go: I began in the S.C.A. in 1989 in the Kingdom of Atenveldt. In 1991, I began fencing Olympic foil and epee. By 1993, I was transitioning over to the relatively new (to us, at least) style of SCA fencing and was authorized in 1994. Since then, I have lived in a few different kingdoms before finally settling down in Artemisia. Unfortunately, that same travelling hasn't allowed me to stay in any one kingdom long enough to achieve any official recognition for my skills. Not that I'm complaining (too much). If I was in this for the awards, I would have given up long before now. No, if my fifteen years of fencing shows anything, it's that I fence because I enjoy it.
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