This was the first time I’d seen such a selection of things going on at a K&Q that was more than just the fighting…and that was fantastic. It made me look forward to the day, not just the tournament.
And the environment was lovely. The weather was warm, there was a breeze. People spread out over the lawn and walked around, conversing, laughing. There were a few banners, a few pavilions, nicely set-up fighting lists.
I’m used to K&Q’s being rather intense affairs. They’re usually in a school gym. Folks are pacing back and forth, or stomping in and out of warm-up bouts. We’re lucky if there’s some pageantry, a few banners hung up (though, I will say, there is always an effort).
The outdoor environment seemed to help eliminate all of that. I said to a couple of friends that, maybe its the overabundance of fresh air. Maybe it has something to do with seeing the colors of leaves, and not having to drive through icy conditions and tromp through snow with a huge pack of gear.
I appreciate everyone who came up and asked how I was doing, and offered some advise or inspiration. “You know how to sword. Just go out and sword.” “…Who is Japan? They are all Japan.” (An allusion to a comment I’d made on Friday, saying to the soon-to-be outgoing Queens Champ that I imagine him sometimes going into a list, screaming, “I am Godzilla…you are Japan!”) Other people who just reminded me to be me. Which I sometimes forget when I’m going into a tournament.
Which is silly, and I’ve been trying to figure out where that attitude comes from. Normally, a tournament, for me, is just another opportunity to perform. This is me, this is my fight. Sometimes I win; sometimes not. However, its an opportunity to display Italian swordsmanship, as best as I can, or to display something new I’ve learned, or try something different that I’ve recently been exposed to. And I like the opportunity to perform, to show off, or even to just try out something different against people I don’t normally see. And I like to promote new things, or stuff people may have not seen before. “Check out this thing we haven’t done yet, but we can totally freakin’ do!”
But K&Q is sometimes different for me. Maybe I pick up the intensity from other people. Maybe I’m insecure because, in a really competitive environment, I feel like I shouldn’t be competing, that I’m wasting my opponent’s time by doing what I’m doing, and they deserve a real opponent. Maybe because sometimes I’m a bad test-taker, and the stress of the list gets to me, like I am being graded by some unknown cosmic entity. Maybe its my problems with crowds, and I feel trapped in a gym with 80 other combatants who just want to get this damn thing over with.
But this time, under the trees, in the sunlight, on the grass, there was none of that. I was just happy to be out there and fight. I fought my fight; there was no real anxiety. I didn’t advance out of the first round (a total of six people in my list; I had one victory). But I was okay with that. Everyone fought great. I fought like me. There were some things that happened that I didn’t expect, and I take those things as teaching moments. But the people who fought me were all great.
Sometimes I’m afraid that if I don’t get uptight about how I do in a tournament, that people might think I don’t take it seriously. But man, I do. I really take this seriously. I don’t know what kind of tournament head-space I should have, though.
So, the day was good. I talked to people about fighting, and technique. Some friends and I did some martial A&S study after the fighting. I listened to poetry. I told stories. I danced. I hung out with friends. I sat through a great court and got to be a part of friends being recognized for great things. I got home excited and tired, wanting to do more.
Duels and Dice 