UCL Lost Boys

And I know it.

I joined Shinjuku Kendo Club as a junkaiin, or sub-member (so I keep my main membership of the bingo hall), and they immediately started talking about letting me keep my armour there. This is a good thing because up until now I have been going very infrequently because I need to get up an hour and a half earlier on a work day to go (Just not happening) or go on a saturday, and recently that’s been hard, so I’ve sucked up and been doing the weekdays, but it’s been killing me.

So, they find a space for my armour, but, they said, there is a set of armour there already. The dude doesn’t come anymore, so you can use the space. All good, says I. Oh, he was a big fella too, try the armour on, they respond…….. And it fits……. “OK,” says the Shinjuku quarter master, “it’s yours. Take it to a bougu shop, get it cleaned, and have your name put on it, and you can have it.”

Bllooooooooody Heeeeeeeeeeeell! And to boot, the kote and men are hand made, and the kote in particular are frankly lovely. The perfect size, soft, and chunky.

And if that wasn’t enough, now that I’m a member, the shiai coach of the club wants to start using me in competitions, starting with a city wide comp next month! Get in there! A re-visit to my old position of senpo too. Easy peasy!

Things is looking up.

Went to my usual once a week at Tokyo Electricity on Friday. I was running pretty late, so warmed myself up on a nanadan, then lined up for the shihan, Watanabe sensei. He’s an ex-copper apparently, and 8th dan to boot, so he’s worth a go every now and then. I ended up waiting about 20 minutes to have a go with him, which made me last. Bugger.

It started off well with a farily good jigeiko, that lead into (as normal with Watanabe sensei) kakarigeiko. But it didn’t end. At all. I was going at it for what felt like forever, and just ai-men too. Men uchi, men uchi, more men uchi, follwed by a bit of men uchi. And on and on and on. It really didn’t stop. And then kirikaeshi……good I think, time to wind up. I was fucked at this point. “You’ve still got strength!” he says as I run on to his kensen for the last men (and realise that I really am fucked…), and try again, and run on to his kensen again, and try again, and run on to his kensen again,and again and again and again. It went on about 20 times. And then another kirikaeshi. And then more menuchi. And then before I realised what had happend (I’d kind of zoned out at this point and was just “doing”) he stopped and simply went into sonkyo. I actually had real trouble standing up from the sonkyo at thsi point, my legs were like total jelly. Put a fork in me, I’m done.

“You haven’t done that in a while” he says after keiko. You’re not bloody wrong I was thinking.

After that I joined in with the kihon with the main guys, and strangely managed to get my way through the whole thing in a fairly respectable state.

Then Watanabe sensei rolls up again. “Oi, Takahashi, fight Gibson” Takahashi had turned up and done 4 kirikaeshi after the main practise was done, he was full of beans and super genki. I felt like I’d been worked over by a russian bear wrestler. But throughout this jigeiko I suddenly realised what Watanabe sensei was trying to teach me.

My body was so mashed, so fucked, so totally out of juice, that I simply didn’t move unless I wanted to. And because I had literally no physical strength left I couldn’t put any un-needed strength or force into my cuts and so ended up in possibly the most relaxed state I’ve ever done kendo in (albeit totally forced). And I totally and completed demolished Takahashi. Like, completly steam rollered him. He even apologised for it.

Lesson learned. Big Time.

(And then in complete contrast I practised with a guy who I just didn’t want to listen to at all, from him telling me that my kendo will be useless when I’m old and have no stamina – which is why I’m doing it now and not when I’m seventy, thank you very much – to him doing mukeazuki on me in practically everything I did, and then ballsing up any attack he made when he actually did something. If I compare that to Watanabe sensei, who got everything right, AND beat the crap into me, AND took me just past my limit, all without injuring me, I must say it was so totally uninspiring that I wonder what he felt he was actually trying to do. I ranted about this kind of thing before, ages ago, and after this little episode I can certainly say that I haven’t changed my opinion on it. He knew what he was doing too. Afterwards he said he thought that I had a good eye for my opponent, because he could see me going when he was about to. Aaaah yes, that old commitment thing, the one that makes you change your mind from men uchi to mukaezuki. Cheers then.)

Every now and then I clean out my phone of the rubbish that it collects. Only 4 this time, but I thought I’d give you the love anyway:

Just in case you can’t read it, the kanji says “Keishicho”, or “Metropolitan Police”. There has to be some dam serious kudos for wearing that thing on your head.

German Long Wurst. Nuff said.

This is a pecker head who I work with. This photo pretty much sums it all up. *sigh*

Edit: Look at him, he hasn’t even got any fucking shoes on.

Japan is no stranger to Dumbass fitness videos. Two years ago was Billy’s Boot Camp, where a huge black guy called Billy shouted at thin women, now you have Hip Hop Abs. You too can get a body like Biggy Smalls.

I had an ace episode with Axel last week while I was back at the in-laws.

I’ve pretty much got the hang of nappy changing. It’s not so hard at the moment because he doesn’t really struggle that much apart from when he’s really got the hump, which isn’t too often.

So, he peed himself, as babies do, so I changed the little fella. Nothing special, all good, fine. Then 10 minutes later he took the opportunity to drop a log, thanks for the timing, son (I later read that in some cases it’s better to leave boys a bit longer than girls because they are of this habit that makes you waste your time like this…..)So log in pants not being an optimal situation I changed him again. Still fine, breast feeding baby poo isn’t the altogether unpleasant substance that I eject from myself after a night on the sauce following a beef bonanza, so I got to it, and a few minutes later all good, happy Axel.

So I picked him up and held for a while, and 5 minutes letter heard a sound that I could only describe as a bag of wet, chopped meat hitting a wall at high speed. And many times. And loud.

I set him down and opened for inspection, and was confronted by a scene that looked like someone had thrown a jar of Uncle Ben’s Korma over his arse. It was like Brick Lane had been hit by a bomb. This required a little more work than the previous 2 changes (less than a total of 10 minutes ago…) so I set to with the grim determination that is required when confronted by quantities of shit. Biggy’s story about his gran immediately came back to mind….

Anyway, to clean him little bottom properly, I held his ankles together, lifted him up a little and began the operation, and so stuck was I in my concentration, and blocking the view with Axels legs, I didn’t notice him begin peeing. And peeing. And peeing. All over himself, the towel he was on, his clothes, and even in his his ear. Great. That’ll be bath time then. It was like the water display in front of Caesar’s Palace.

I’ll chalk that one down to experience. Note to self, make sure baby doesn’t need to piss like a horse before wiping his jacksie.

Now that the week of recovery is done, the Mrs and the Baby were discharged from hospital and sent out in to the big wide world. Emi decided to spend the first month with her parents (it was going to be two…that changed quickly….heh) while she get’s used to Axel being around and caring for him.

We also gave him his bath for the first time too. Until now the nurses had been doing it with Emi just standing around like a lemon and watching. It was kind of funny to watch actually. Axel hates being exposed, so nappy changing is normally accompanied by plenty of crying, and bath time was no different. Off come the keks and out come the tears! A quick scrub of the face later and he get’s transported in to the bath, giving us a comic mid air star fish for good measure (he’s got really thin arms and legs! He needs some fat!), and then dunked in to the bath. And instant calm! Fantasic!

For me one of the most fascinating things about having a baby is the reactions.  Because he’s only 10 days old he’s still obviously getting used to life outdoors, so things like his star fishing before the bath, or the way if he gets cranky in the bath you can drape a wet cloth over him to calm him down, are really interesting to watch. That and the force he can exert when he sucks my finger. More respect for the wife…..

After the week off for Axel I was dying to get in to the dojo. As happy as I was with the boy, I still need a scrap every now and then!

Maybe it was that, or something else miore wierd, but keiko was great. I actually felt pretty genki and energetic throughout the first one back at the bingo hall, with the seme game going nicely and laying a couple of sweeeeeet kaeshi dou on Choppy Waters Sensei. Shinjuku was equally as good, with a frankly great bash with Kurihara sensei. He’s an 8th dan and ex-keishicho, and a hell of a nice guy. And he loves a scrap. It’s great. You get plenty of 8th dans who are only interested in you coming to them, in a very traditional sensei and kakarite set up, but Kurihara sensei is usually not even slightly open to it and will smash you on the head without reserve. Which is ace for me because I’ve got to pull the stops out to avoid the spanking that he’s actively trying to deal out.

After that I was on to the Power Station in Shinbashi too. I had my arse totally handed to me by a shiny new 7th dan, who was quite honestly way more than I was capable of handling at the time, but it was a good lesson in self control too.

After the main keiko, the shihan of Touden, Watanabe sensei – an ex-copper and another 8th dan, lectured the collected masses about their keiko that day. He wasn’t feeling too chipper so sat keiko out and instead took the opportunity to watch peoples keiko instead. He said that alot of people are missing out on some of the fundamentals of seme, and are simply getting in too close and waving their nakayui at each other. In addition he mentioned a Japanese phrase Ken chu tai, tai chu ken, which looks a lot better in Japanese. The jist is that you should be somewhere in the middle (chu) of being an attacker (ken) and a waiter (tai) so that you have a feeling of both passive activity and active passivity. If that makes sense. Hearing his thoughts on this (he spoke for what felt like a very quick 30 minutes) were good for me, as this is something that is very high on my list as part of the whole “improving my seme and making people move” thing.

As part of his rant about attacking too close he also told the collected TouDen that they all had to practise more with me…………..! Bugger. Because I’m tall and fast, and attack from a distance that most people don’t normally deal with apparently. A direct translation of his reference to me would be aptly put as something like “Big ‘un”. Cheers then….

And thanks for painting the target on my back too. After that I lost a bloody long ippon shoubu with their captain. Oops!

Finally, after much waiting and nail biting, my baby boy was born!

That’s him at 40 minutes old. Look at those chubby cheeks!

By english standards he was “a good weight”, 8lb 3oz, but by japanese standards he was a total porker, at 3706g, Heh, little fatty. Even Emi said “Fat!” when he was brought in to the birthing room.

It wasn’t all plain sailing though. Emi was admitted to the hospital on 4th March (the due date) around midday, and actually gave birth 3 and a half days, or 80 hours later, at 7.35pm on the 7th. I sat through a good deal of it, and believe me when I say I never want to see her go through that again. Really.

The first day was pretty sedate compared to what followed. Her contractions were fairly weak, but under the 10 minute mark which usually marks the readiness. The doctor said she’ll probably give birth tomorrow, so I actually went back to my sister in law’s place, and had me a cold beer and a big dinner. Good job too, because I was going to need it…

Next day, Emi’s contractions had become more frequent, 5-7minutes, but not stronger, so she had a bit of medicine to help out. Realistcailly, it didn’t really do that much apart from put her in pain. Also, my nephew actually got full blown influenza, so I had to stay with the parents in law, an extra hour journey each way. Bugger. To top it off, Emi’s mum doesn’t really know what I eat, so I had to force half a grape fruit down too. I fucking hate grape fruit. I also had to eat some different kind of natto, which I normally like, which tasted fowl. Bugger.

And what was for breakfast? More grape fruit. Great. I wrapped it up in cling film when she wasn’t looking and dropped it in my bag for Emi. No thank you!

Day 3 at the hospital saw more drugs, more pain for Emi, a little more dilation but ultimately not enough effect for her to give birth. I was not pleased, Emi was in increasing agony and there was no sign of the Kid. So they took the drugs away and the contractions lightened up again, back to hardly any pain and the 5-7 minutes. Great. So no actual progress then, and essentially the same state she’d been in for 36 hours…

So off I went back to the parents. At least this time I didn’t have to have grapefruit.

But there it was at breakfast. Staring at me. Emi’s mum went to work before I could finish breakfast, with the grapefruit predictably last, so that gave me the chance to wrap that thing in cling film too and take that to the hospital as well. Emi likes grapefruit.

Day 4… and some stronger drugs. These ones were really not nice, and from about an hour after lunch (Emi enjoyed her grapefruit) she was in so much pain that she could barely talk. As the afternoon went on the pain increased and got worse to the point where every 90 seconds the contractions were pretty much hell.

Around 5.30pm the doctor examined her, declared her ready to give birth and said that within an hour or so they’d get her ready. But still no broken water! Anyway, the decalred hour later and sure enough,  in to the birthing room they take her…..and I’m left on my lonesome! That was the first major worrying time, I had no clue what was going on, I didn’t know if Emi was ok, nothing…..and then the door opens and “in you come, she’s just about to pop!”

Literally 5 minutes later, and I’m a dad! I’m not going to go through the intricacies of what happened, most of you should at least have a vague idea of a birth, but I will say that I cried like a school girl with a skinned knee when I saw my boy for the first time.

He’s yawning in the second one, not crying!

Actaully, he doesn’t cry that much so far, only when he wants some boobie (I call it boobie around him, I can’t bring myself to say tits or puppies around him!) or he’s shat himself (this is done in large volumes…) but he’s cute when he cries anyway:

He looks like an old man when he cries! Heh.

So some quick stats if you care, born at 7.35pm on 7th March, weighing 3706g (all the 7’s!), or 8lb 3oz in old money. 51cm long (I won’t say tall yet because he doesn’t even stretch his legs out that much right now), brown eyes, and (so far) brown hair. And very long fingers and toes. His name in English is Axel Hugo, and Japanese is Shuma (with the kanji being State/Province – used in the Japanese for Europe, and True – the older one) (edit – I know it was different before, but until we finally got it registered it changed 4 times……I was far from happy, but he’s got a good name now.)

I’ve fed him a bottle a few times, he’s like a little limpet and drinks like a Geordie on a stag do. And as far as I’m concerned everything he does (which at the moment is next to nothing) is great. And I’ve taken many pics of him, so you can have some more, because like any obnoxious father I don’t tire of them!

Yup, still waiting for the little one. His official due date is in two days time, but we were hoping for an early birth, for two reasons. One, being that my wife, living with her sister (close to a highly recommended hospital) is going snooker loopy having to be in constant and daily close proximity to nephew-from-hell. Two, because we simply want the little fella here now.

To further confirm my readiness for fatherhood I got tipsy drunk last night while feasting on a half and half teriyaki chicken and spicy sausage pizza combo, whilst delivering a flying kick, heavy punch into dragon punch combo in Street Fighter 2. I owned.

But really, waiting is killing me. I’m on the instant despatch SAS alert, ready to drop everything at a moment’s notice…..but bloody hell I hate waiting for it. And if the wee one is late then I’ve got another week of this. It’s not doing my state of mind any good!

Hopefully a decent smash up at keiko tonight and a healthy dose of kakarigeiko will sort me out.

I hope.