Jiu-jitsu is science, not magic.
What is science, and why is it distinct from magic (however magical scientific findings might seem)? The scientific method is based on observable reality, where you experiment, observe the results, develop an understanding which you refine over time, and repeat. Magical thinking is the opposite: you draw conclusions that you can’t prove. I ate ice cream for lunch, and then it rained later: I should eat ice cream when the garden needs watering. Or, as we hear all too often in the context of martial arts: my system is so deadly we can’t spar, or I’d hurt you.
What’s the best way to determine whether a fighting system is effective? Science. Take a practitioner of that system. Put them in a controlled environment (i.e., a cage) where there are very few variables (i.e. rules), see what happens, and then repeat over and over.
The early Ultimate Fighting Championships were an extended experiment, and a very valuable one.
For people my age, the first few UFCs were monumental. It was the first time many of us had ever seen real human unarmed combat the way it actually looks outside of schoolyard brawls and imaginary action movies.
For people born in the past three decades — folks who grew up with the UFC as it is today, a multi-billion dollar sports business — the early UFCs often occupy the same space that the Declaration of Independence does. They are aware that it happened, and are glad. They respect the people involved. But, in my experience, few folks in their 20s are aware of the details about what made the first several UFCs remarkable.
Today, the UFC is governed by athletic commissions that have safety regulations. There are time-limited rounds. Safety gear, like gloves and hand wraps and even fight wear are standardized. Many techniques are illegal, from striking a downed opponent to 12-6 elbows. There are good reasons for this, including both fighter safety and entertainment value for the masses. There are many who appreciate the athletic grace of an Anthony Pettis head kick, even when the results are brutal. There are fewer people who appreciate Keith Hackney’s repeated groin strikes to Joe Son at UFC 4:
I’ve talked to many people who train — pro fighters, even! — who don’t realize that early UFC events had no time limits and basically no regulations. Two men entered a cage. The doors were locked. Eventually, someone gave up or was rendered unconscious. Then — and a lot of younger folks don’t know this, either — if you won, you had to fight again. The first events were tournaments, where to win you’d have to win three or even four fights in one night.
That was the environment when Royce Gracie went unbeaten during the first four events. Royce didn’t win all three tournaments (he had to withdraw from UFC 3 after winning his first match against Kimo Leopoldo, due to dehydration from the exhausting bout). He did, though, show us that smaller, less physically imposing opponents could prevail even in an anything-goes environment.
This was reality. This was science. The Gracie family wanted to demonstrate that their style of jiu-jitsu could emerge victorious under the most challenging conditions. It did, in what was effectively a no-rules environment with no time limits — yes, bites and fish hooks were allowed in addition to groin strikes. During the finals of UFC 1, Gerard Gordeau bit Royce in an unwise attempt to defend a rear naked choke. Royce finished the choke — and the experiment — successfully.
But science requires replication. It’s not enough for something to happen once: this could be a fluke, a random occurrence that would be confused for causation. Royce went back time and again, continuing to prove the efficiency and effectiveness of jiu-jitsu.
The ultimate expression of this was the final match of UFC 4 against Dan “The Beast” Severn. This was, in my opinion, Royce’s most impressive fight. Critics argued that Royce hadn’t taken on an elite grappler. In Severn, Royce faced an undefeated fighter, a mountain of a wrestler who outweighed him by 80 pounds or so. Royce got put on his back by a Severn takedown early, but stayed safe from punches using his guard, and 16 minutes into the fight, finished Severn using the triangle choke.
Just having any 260 pound man on top putting weight on you is exhausting. Now make that guy a Greco-Roman and freestyle wrestling national champion and a three-time collegiate All-American. Then give him the ability to punch, kick, head-butt, or do whatever else he wants. That’s a dangerous situation to say the least.
Royce didn’t just survive, though: he won. No plan survives engagement with the enemy, but having a robust series of plans can help. Since he was a child, Royce Gracie had been training the jiu-jitsu punch block series, and it kept him safe when it mattered. You can watch the Severn fight in its entirety on the subscription service UFC Fight Pass, or you can see Royce using elements of the Gracie punch block series in this highlight clip:
Like all techniques, the punch block series has a series of options that present themselves depending upon what the opponent does. You can hear Rener Gracie’s explanation of the punch block series and the parts his uncle Royce used here:
To master this requires constant repetition through drilling — and live training, which means real sparring against an opponent that’s resisting you. And that brings us back to science versus magical thinking.
You often hear three words strung together when you’re talking about jiu-jitsu. People with some other training, or with an idea about how fights go, sometimes start sentences like this: “I would just …” You can end the sentence any way you like: bite, eye gouge, kick … whatever it is. Sometimes the answer is a special technique they’ve heard about. These answers are simple, and like most simple answers, they’re not correct.
The truth is: I wish there were magical techniques that worked every time. I wish the answers were simple: I wish that I could tell every student in my jiu-jitsu classes “just do this one thing, and you’ll be fine.”
If you’re a serious person, though, you have to pay attention to reality. Reality is more complicated and more difficult, but always more rewarding. And the reality is that, beginning with the first UFC 25 years ago, we learned two very important things.
First, fundamental jiu-jitsu works, even (especially!) in a no-rules environment. By all accounts including his own, Royce wasn’t even the best fighter in his own family. He still managed to defeat many larger, stronger opponents in one night, including a monster whose skillset was seemingly designed to neutralize Royce’s strengths.
Second, we learned that there’s no substitute for training, dedication, and hard work. Jiu-jitsu technique is simple to explain but extremely difficult to master, and to truly master it, you have to drill the techniques repeatedly and train hard, including sparring against tough people. When we spar, we’re in the gym helping each other fill those gaps of knowledge and experience — so that if we ever find ourselves underneath someone like Dan Severn, we have a better chance of a good result.