maintaining community connections during the plague

I haven't posted here in a while. 

I think I needed the time, after that disastrous experience going to Scotland for IMCF in 2018, to just chill out and get a little perspective.

Lots of things went wrong on that trip, and I was incredibly disappointed by certain events and people, but it was also amazing because I got to reconnect with my fighting friends from all over the world, make new friends, and have some great fights. In hindsight, I think maybe I was being a bit of a drama queen about the whole thing. I don't take it well when things don't go according to plan. 

Last year was similarly a complete fuck-up, and I did not get on the plane for Serbia and Battle of the Nations, because my visa application had been overlooked. A simple mistake, and certainly not worth beheading the clerk who made it, but all the same, it took a while to renegotiate my brain's belief that I was in Smederevo Fortress, getting ready to fight. Weird how that works, really. But I was here for Josh when he had his accident, which was probably what the Gods intended. Silver linings.

And then, of course, there's this guy: 2020. The asshole around the corner wearing the clown mask. 

I did not expect this plague to affect the cohesion of my team, the Rogue Squadron, the way it did. 

Before the plague hit, I already felt like my credibility with my team was under review, and that external influences has driven us (once a closeknit group) into different corners. And I guess that is sort of the natural course of things, over time. 

It's just that the plague shut us down completely. In early March, we stopped what little training had been happening. We were under lockdown, and the government declared a moratorium on all sports training (and pretty much everything else except sitting inside watching TV).

This didn't just happen to us. It happened to everyone, and I think that we didn't realise what it might mean. Our sports communities are our cultural groups. When we don't get to meet and train regularly, those community bonds can break down quickly. When there is no prospect of a tournament until maybe next year, it becomes quite a desolate place to be in. 

It is possible that this plague will mean a "Great Reset" for medieval combat in South Africa, since we are all struggling simply to make ends meet now. We will have to see how that pans out, going forward. So far we have had one sparring session since March, but I cannot ask my team mate to attend every week, and put his family (who are vulnerable) at risk of the plague.

While we are still under lockdown, and training is still not legal, we can always organise some "under the radar" sessions, for those brave enough to attend. But I have found that my most constant source of support and encouragement are my fighting friends from overseas. Those who check up on me, and those on whom I check, just to make sure they are okay on their patch of the planet. From my place, I have participated in training with my Israeli friends, had conversations about restarting training with a US buddy, been invited to complete two different challenges, one related to fitness and one related to daily training discipline, and also witnessed the birth of a new training venue of a fighting friend in Italy.

It's these connections that bind our community together. In a time of isolation, and fear spread by the mainstream media, and the devastating effect of politicians on our whole way of life in almost every place in the world, our medieval combat connections are vital to maintaining our sanity and the growth of our sport. It has become about relationships

, and a test of sheer, bloody-minded endurance through those factors which might break us apart. 

I wanted to put it out there to every fighter, on every patch of the planet: I love and admire you all. Stay strong, stay committed, see you in the lists!

the fighting

This blog post comes to you with images compliments of Caroline Walsh, our very favourite IMCF photographer and all round lovely Irishwoman.

Every time I go to a tournament overseas, I am humbled by the company in which I find myself. Being in this sport of medieval combat, I have developed an appreciation for the state of existence that is being an athlete. It is not something that you can do once, or for a period of time. It is a way of living and working towards an almost ethereal goal. I understand this through experience. So at tournaments, when I meet those athletes who have inspired me to bet better, do more, push harder, aim higher, I am once again reminded that it is possible; the goal, however ethereal, can be reached, for a time at least.

The standard of fighting this year was better than before, and I was impressed that everyone from last year seemed to have upped the ante.

My fighting friends gave a good account of themselves, although some unexpectedly did not win, and others did even better than they expected to.

I'm not sure if that is a reflection of the calls made by the marshalls, or the relative levels of fitness and skill of the fighters. I know that Battle of the Nations was the weekend before, and the fighting was apparently quite intense, and this could also have had a bearing on the performance of some.

Whatever the circumstances leading to the results, there was fighting. It was good quality sport. And once again, having watched a lot of it, seen the upsets and noticed the appeals and results, what made me proud to be a part of the sport was that all the combatants still accepted the marshalls' decisions as final, and showed good sportsmanship, which is not easy to do if you believe the decision was unfair. There were a few instances of this, and I am not mentioning it as a criticism of the marshalling, but as a testament to the sportsmanship of those involved.

This year, my friend and fighting inspiration, Laurent, won the Fair Play award. He was surprised. No-one else was.

But I want to talk about our buhurt teams because that made me particularly happy.

Firstly, thanks, Florian.

Our women's team, with four members, performed well together. Each of us brought our unique superpower to the lists and used it to the best of our abilities. Or skill levels. Which is all you can ever ask of a team.

It was a happy coincidence, though, that our best was good enough to beat the French and the Australian teams, who have roughly the same level of experience as us. In our pool, however, we also had the two big fish: Quebec and Ukraine. They, being the experienced and well-disciplined teams that they are, made short work of us, and we were left on our backs in the lists wondering what the hell just happened.

I guess that is as it should be. For now.

Our very young and inexperienced team beat the people we could have beaten, and this is said with all respect to the French and Auzzie women, because it was still some damn fine fighting and good fun.

We lost to our betters. Quebec and Ukraine took gold and silver, respectively, with Finland taking bronze.

And so we use our experience of fighting them to inspire us to train harder, do better. "Git gud" as they say. That is the impermanence of being an athlete - there is always more work to be done, and further goals to improve towards.

Next year?  Who knows. We might even bring home some loot if we work hard enough. Nothing is impossible, and I believe that our team can do it.

Our mens 5s team debuted this year at IMCF. Josh arrived an hour before the matches started. It was nail-biting. But they went on with five fighters.

I don't want to say that our 5s team crushed the Scots and the Irish. That's because I have many friends on both of those teams and I know how hard they work at this sport. They are also good fighters with massive hearts. The thing is, though, we grow them big and very strong in our land. Maybe it's all the sunshine.
Whatever the case, there was fighting. Our guys won those matches and then faced the Polish 5s. This is a team of experienced and well-trained fighters, usually in the medals for a first or second. And for a few moments, our guys had the Polish a bit concerned. They had the win in two rounds, but both rounds ended in a one-on-one.

Sometimes it's not the victory that is satisfying. Sometimes, it can just be how hard you make your opponent work to gain the win.

Our guys made it to the eliminations, and were then denied further progress by the French, who I believe also took silver in that category.

For a debut tournament, I'd like to think that our guys turned some heads. Next year will be interesting. That is a certainty.

In terms of individual categories, only Hylton and I had actually competed internationally before. Both of us made it out of our pools in sword and shield but were denied further progress at eliminations, unfortunately. Still, a good effort given the standard of fighting, and nothing, I believe, to be embarrassed about.

In longsword, I progressed to the match for bronze, but lost it to Bene from Quebec. She is an experienced fighter and a well-trained, disciplined athlete, and I felt no shame in losing to her. I do feel more driven than ever to get better, train harder, fight faster. Maybe next year, I can do better.

Our new fighters also did as well as they could.

Although KC chose to put the team first and withdraw from the polearm category (there was some trouble with her helm coming off), she showed some real promise in the match that she did fight against Denmark. I am very excited to see how she does in future tournaments, if she decides to focus on polearm duels.

Anton was also in the polearm duels. He took a pounding from guys a lot bigger than he. But he is tough as nails, and gave a good opposition each time. I was told that he really did fight like his namesake, the badger.

Julian fought in the longsword in Josh's place, and I would not have chosen anyone else for the job. He is a tough, fit competitor and he also made it out of his pool, after which, he met the Lithuanian who took gold and was eliminated. Again, no shame in that defeat. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to see the fighting live.

I think that in terms of overall individual and team performance, we have definitely improved on last year in every respect. Now, all we have to do is fight more, train harder, be better. Git gud.

It's an ethereal promise of a goal that is never fully or permanently attainable. Like a commitment to integrity, you can't just do it once and then it's done. It is the work of a lifetime, to be an athlete. That win is there, if you dedicate yourself to it each morning. And the win is not necessarily in the medal or the marshall's decision; it is also in being better every time, achieving things you weren't sure you could.

And so when I meet fighters who I consider to be my mentors and inspiration, I may seem to be a bit of a fan girl, but really, I'm realising again that this person is a living embodiment of the dedication it takes to meet the requirements of the sport. That is important to me because they show me that it is possible. And to be a part of it all at this level is a humbling experience for which I am grateful.