Many old-timers who practiced judo in the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s claim that the art was better then than it is now. Because we don’t have access to a time machine that would allow us to pull a judoka out of the past and drop him into a modern world championship, we’ll never know if they’re right. However, we should remember that time has a way of making improvements; it’s referred to as social ratcheting.

Nevertheless, we like to think that the fighting skills of our ancestors were superior to our own. Consider for a moment the quick-draw artists of the Old West. Were the likes of Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp faster and deadlier than modern shooters? We may be inclined to side with the gunfighters of yesteryear. But again, it’s impossible to pit one against the other in a life-or-death situation. Nonetheless, it’s worth pointing out that exhibition shooter Bob Munden can place a 14-inch-by-24-inch steel plate 200 yards away and hit it four out of five times with a .38-caliber double-action Smith & Wesson revolver in less time than it takes for spit to hit the ground. No one shot that accurately or that quickly back in the old days. Ah, but we’re talking about judo here. …
 

Rules That Favor Worldwide Participation

I believe that if you were to take a judoka from the past and have him compete in a 21st-century tournament under current rules, you’d find that he’s at a great disadvantage.

What are some of the differences between what he’d face and what modern practitioners face? After all, when watching a judo contest, we still see standard throws such as seionage, uchimata and osotogari, and despite any variations, they’re similar enough to be categorized as the same throws. The differences lie in the rules one must adhere to if he wants to be competitive at the international level. Countries that don’t understand or that elect not to use the rules to their advantage won’t bring home the gold.

If a country was to stay with the rules of the ’60s and ’70s, its judoka would lose seven out of eight medals without even stepping on the mat. The first reason for that is simple: Back then, women couldn’t compete. The first world championships for women took place in New York City in 1980. Women didn’t compete in the Olympics until 1988. Some Middle Eastern countries that disallow women from competition automatically cut their chances of winning.

The second reason is changes in the weight divisions. Originally, there were none in judo. It was believed that the person with the greater talent would prevail, no matter the height, weight or size differential. To an extent, that proved true—until judoka found that when all other things were equal, the bigger person usually had the advantage. The first Olympics to feature judo had four weight categories, but that number quickly changed to six before ending with seven for men and seven for women. The extra divisions increased the chances of winning for many non-Asian countries.
 

Perhaps more than any rule, the one that changed the nature of world judo the most was the addition of two extra scores. Until the early ’70s, there were only two scores: ippon (full point) and waza ari (half-point). Matches could last from three to 10 minutes with an allowance for overtime. However, if an ippon was awarded, it instantly ended the match regardless of how much time was left. If two half-points were scored, that also ended the match. If, at the end of a match, no one had scored, it went to overtime or was called a draw, or hikiwake. To audiences, draws were unacceptable.

Enter the new two scores: koka (technical advantage) and yuko (superior advantage). About the same time, definitions for what constituted a score began to appear. An ippon occurred when there was force, speed and control. A waza ari was defined as something that was just short of an ippon because one of the elements was missing. A yuko occurred when two elements were missing or when an athlete landed on his side after being thrown. To earn a koka, the hip girdle had to make contact—which, in the early days, meant hitting the front or back side of the pelvis. Later, it was changed to include only butt contact with the mat.

The additions of koka and yuko greatly increased the chances for other countries to defeat the ippon-oriented Japanese. The tactic entailed scoring under the new rules, then holding out for the time to elapse. It was always easier to get a lesser score and then resist the opponent’s offense than it was to get an ippon.

While that didn’t bode well with the Japanese or those who loved watching a great slamming throw determine the winner, it did help make judo a world sport—something that might not have occurred if Japan was the only country that ever won. With the new rules, a person could win with a lesser score, but that didn’t make life easier for them. They had to be in muscular, neuromuscular, cardiovascular, tactical and psychological shape to win. And they had to know the rules of the game, even to the extent of knowing the judges and how they might score a match.

Many judo veterans condescendingly refer to the current style of judo as “koka judo.” Although it may be less exciting to some, modern judo is a sophisticated sport with a high degree of gamesmanship. To see the difference, one need only look at footage of old matches and compare it to modern contests in which the athletes must attack every 25 seconds or be penalized. Furthermore, from having had the privilege of watching Mike Swain and Jimmy Pedro win their world championships, I can attest that every movement they made after scoring their lesser score filled me with excitement and anxiety.

Executing the Unexpected

In the finals of the 1996 Olympics, Udo Quellmalz of Germany fought Yukimasa Nakamura of Japan in the 65-kilogram division. The two were old adversaries, and Nakamura was favored to win. While the two buzzed around the mat, little of substance was executed. After watching this match for the 15th time, it became apparent that little traditional gripping of the judogi was taking place. In the five-minute match, less than 20 seconds was dedicated to a normal gripping pattern (right hand on the opponent’s left lapel and left hand holding the right sleeve).

Only in the second half did a knockdown occur. Nakamura had tried to beat Quellmalz at his own game by doing one-handed judo. Unfortunately, Quellmalz had more practice at it and, in the final minutes, knocked Nakamura to the mat. Although it wasn’t enough for a score, it did earn him a decision over Nakamura, who struggled to put down Quellmalz but had no such luck.

The unexpected part was Quellmalz’s one-handed style, which kept Nakamura from getting the grip he needed to throw his opponent. Also unexpected was Nakamura’s attempt to play the one-handed game when most Japanese players consistently take a normal grip.

The lesson is, you have a better chance of winning when you train for and do the unexpected. If you’re always trying an osotogari, your opponent will be ready to defend himself or counter you. If, on the other hand, you feign an osotogari to the rear and suddenly turn it into a seoi-otoshi to the front, your chance of succeeding is better.
 

You can surprise your opponent by coming up with new ways to do old techniques, as well as executing techniques he hasn’t had a chance to build up a tolerance to. Originally, there were about 40 basic techniques—throws that were referred to as gokyo no waza. Today, the Kodokan lists 67 techniques. There are actually more than 67, but Japan and the International Judo Federation have not yet devised names for them. Without the expanded definition of ippon discussed above, some of these throws wouldn’t even get a score. However, they work because they’re less likely to be countered.

In many respects, judo in the United States is still taught in a conventional manner with traditional values. There’s still a charm about our sport, but we have to realize that judo is evolving in other countries, and we need to be aware of those changes. Our challenge is to keep all that’s good about it while adding those things that will update it and make it better.

About the author: Hayward Nishioka is a Black Belt Hall of Fame member and a legend in the judo community. He has written two books and appeared in several judo instructional DVDs for Black Belt. He was also featured on the cover of Black Belt magazine in April 1970 and January 1972.