The All-Japan Point & KO Tournament Experience
 Standing beside a support banner.
It seems fitting that the All-Japan Point & KO Tournament is held around the same time each year as when the cherry blossoms are at full bloom. Seeing the cherry blossoms at their peak on the bus ride from Narita Airport to Tokyo reminded me of the similarly fleeting nature of this tournament. Competitors prepare all year for a tournament that will be over in one day. There is no pause or rewind button that will allow competitors to affect the outcome for them. The opportunity comes and goes on schedule, and whether competitors are satisfied or dissatisfied with their performance that day, the tournament has passed. Those satisfied will likely reminisce, while those dissatisfied must turn their focus to another year of even harder preparation that will hopefully offer a better result next year.
It also seems fitting that as Satojuku begins preparations to host an international tournament for the 20th Point & KO Tournament next year, that I try to offer my perspective on competing in this tournament. I must say that I have never asked other competitors why they choose to compete, or what they feel they gain from competing, so my perspective could be very different from other competitors. I tend to feel that those who would think to ask may have a very difficult time understanding my reasons, while for those who already participate as competitors or supporters, there is probably no need to explain at all. It reminds me of a saying that (roughly) goes: "For those who do, no explanation is necessary, for those who don't, no explanation is sufficient."
Nonetheless, I will try to provide my best "insufficient" explanation through my own perspective on the tournament. And immediately following the 19th tournament is the best time for me to do so, as that is the time when my understanding of my choice to compete is most clear. This is not to say that I reasoned all of this out before choosing to compete. I didn't. I asked to be allowed to compete because I felt compelled to do so, and only later came to better understand the nature of my compulsion.
Having watched and participated in the far more prevalent no-contact point tournaments or semi-contact/full-contact tournaments using protective padding here in the US prior to joining Satojuku, I have come to the conclusion that there are two important factors in full-contact Point & KO tournaments that are fundamentally missing from these other types of tournaments: fear and pain.
 A drawing from a young supporter that I hold dear. Perhaps I can reach that lofty goal one day.
Fear is an important emotion. While fear can be a factor in matches with lesser or no contact, the fear of being hurt is comparatively small, allowing a competitor to be more aggressive. Guarding oneself in such lesser contact tournaments is more motivated by the need to prevent an opponent from scoring a point than by the need to prevent injury to oneself. In contrast, in the Point & KO tournaments where a competitor must also be concerned about the possibility of being hurt, his fighting style is often quite different. Mistakes can mean injury, so a competitor is more compelled to be cautious, more protective, and less aggressive.
However, even competitors able to successfully control fear in Point & KO tournaments have another obstacle to overcome: pain. The pain of full-contact competition without pads also often makes a competitor fight differently, again being more protective and less aggressive. When your shins are stinging you may hesitate to throw a kick in anticipation of incurring additional pain from an opponent's block. To whatever extent adrenaline may lessen the sensation of pain during a match, the pain will be there after the match is over, and adrenaline will become less and less effective at controlling pain as the pain is compounded by new injuries from each following match. In short, with each successive match the pain becomes harder to ignore.
During Point & KO tournaments, I have watched very skilled competitors who appeared to lose their matches due to pain or fear. In a lesser tournament, lacking the elements of fear and pain, these competitors may very well have been tournament champions. But in addition to all of the training, the attainment of skill, speed, power, and stamina, the harshness of this full-contact competition means that Point and KO tournament champions also must manage to avoid letting fear or pain significantly inhibit their performance in competition.
 In the ring.
While I consider the harshness of Point & KO tournaments to be a necessary part of these matches, it is also my opinion that the tournaments rules are designed to avoid gratuitous harshness. The harshness is necessary because budo is difficult, it is harsh, and it can even be brutal. Personally, I dislike the brutality of the matches -- the deeply bruised muscles, the swollen hands and feet, the throbbing, stinging shins. Worse, since most competitors don't leave with trophies, these painful reminders of these difficult matches are seemingly all that the tournament experience rewards them with. But such is the harshness of budo.
Logically, if karate is budo, and kumite is the heart of karate, then kumite is also at the heart of budo. I believe that when I practice karate, I experience budo. But how I practice determines the depth and quality of that experience. If one thinks of budo as a large swimming pool, then for me, when I choose to compete in the Point & KO tournaments, I do so in an attempt to swim in the deep end of that pool.
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