The Almost-Competitor

BJJ Article Written By – Jason Rose

There is a young kid I train with who recently competed in his first ever BJJ tournament. He got soundly beaten.

The first time I saw him in class after the competition, I asked him how he went. I already knew the answer. I was more curious about how he viewed the experience.

He said he did OK. He explained that he made a mistake early in his match, ended up down on points and couldn’t recover before the buzzer went. I could tell that he was flat.

So, I told him what I tell everyone who competes whether they win or lose: most people never set foot onto the competition mat.

That’s the truth. Despite BJJ building its reputation through competition success, most participants never enter a single tournament. They will often still come along to competitions to cheer on their teammates, but they will never compete themselves.

I don’t judge that at all. The truth is competition is not for everyone. It’s confronting. It’s stressful. There is the prospect of injury. Many BJJ players are fully satisfied with regular classes. And I respect them absolutely.

However, there is one type of person I see in the gym that I think is worth spotlighting. They are the people who talk about competing.

These people are typically very consistent with their training. They are on the mat every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday. They tend to love rolling hard. They will pick out the people they know will give them a hard time.

They take their improvement seriously. They are constantly on YouTube studying their favourite positions and submissions. You see them before and after class practicing positions and movement patterns.

If you ask them whether they are going to compete, they always answer the same way: Yes. Absolutely.

When you push them on when, they suddenly become vaguer. They say that they will probably do such-and-such a tournament later in the year. There is also always a hedge in their response: “probably,” “might,” “maybe,” thinking about it and so on.

Other times, they are much more definitive. They point to a specific milestone that will determine when they compete: once they get their blue belt or once they get their second stripe or before they get their blue belt.

Or after exams. Or after they lose a bit of weight. Or after they get back from overseas. Or after they move house. Or after they get fitter. Or after their wedding.

Just not nationals next month – or whatever the next major tournament may be.

Let’s just call out what is going on here: fear. The almost-competitor desperately wants to compete. They genuinely want to be seen by their teammates as a competitor. They want to come off the tournament mat to cheers and applause.

But they are too scared – too scared to cross that psychological threshold and commit.

What is interesting is a core element of BJJ is learning to control your opponent. From our earliest lessons, we are taught the mantra of position before submission – before you can secure an armbar or choke, you must first control your opponent by achieving and maintaining a dominant position.

Yet perhaps learning to control an opponent is only one half of BJJ – and perhaps not the most important half. BJJ also offers the opportunity to learn how to control ourselves. The sport provides an opportunity to impose our will not only on others – but also on ourselves.

That’s exactly what my academy’s young competitor recently did. He embraced his fear and stepped onto the mat. In that moment, and in the lead-up to it, he probably gained more than from all the previous months and years he had spent on the mat.

A common refrain within BJJ circles is learning to become comfortable with being uncomfortable. Nothing encapsulates that better than learning to step onto the competition mat – in spite of the fear.

Because the truth is competition is scary.

The risk of injury.

The risk of humiliation.

Even the risk of exhaustion.

I remember in my first tournament, I had so much adrenaline that I literally forgot to breathe. I clearly recall thinking to myself about 30-seconds into the match that if I don’t take a breath, I am going to have to tap due to total exhaustion.

About 90-seconds later, I needed to tap due to a straight ankle lock.

I’ve done that more times than I care to remember. I have put in some shocking performances – and even suffered the ultimate humiliation of losing my purple belt in the car park on the walk back to my car.

I had to turn up to my next class with the added humiliation of wearing an old white belt. But I know that I had the courage to put myself out there and compete – despite the fear.

I may not have successfully controlled my opponent in that match. But I did succeed in controlling myself and my emotions.

That is also what my young teammate recently learnt to do – to step forward despite the fear. It is what our almost-competitors need to learn to do, too.

The opportunity to find out is right in front of you.

Registrations for the next comp are currently open.