Chaos, precision, and the challenges of every bout

Brazil vs Russia. World Cup. A while ago. They say minutes before the game, the coach walked into the locker room and explained the game plan. It was smart, modern, complex. Everyone agreed. Then Garrincha, the legend of all soccer legends, raised his hand, and from his bench, asked, “did we get the Russians to agree with that too?”

Garrincha was chaos. He thrived on unpredictability. No, he created it. He knew what he was talking about.

In any sport, but maybe you more in combat sports, both training and competing are a balance between chaos and precision. An example: I was raised in traditional martial arts. I like to understand details, polish them, get better at them. I can see a move a few times and three attempts later I can drill them at a reasonably competent level, no matter what style we are talking about. But putting it practice against a resisting opponent is something else. That takes time, and I have the discipline for that. But my point is: the chaotic nature of a live bout doesn’t come naturally to me. Ideas like #kusushi for example, are as mysterious to me as the whole trinity is for Christians.

On the other hand, my training partner Chris is the opposite. We started about the same time, wear the same belt, but although I can always get the details first, he’s always applying the technique better within the chaos.

Then we get together, I help him with the precision and the details I grasped, he pushes me to make them work. But I’m always ahead in comprehension, him in application.

For us precisionists (a.k.a. nerds), it can be frustrating to know something a not be able to use. For them chaoticists, the confusion comes from looking at so many details, things get lost.

But ultimately, we need each other, cause we either become our opposite too, or we will never be the fighters of our aspirations. And will always have to get the Russians to agree with our plan.