'The Lost Boys is a story about the supernatural, about love, music and friendship. When Joey Gray first meets this strange mysterious boy who never leaves the cemetery, she never imagined her life would be turned upside down. Together they will hav...
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The whole thing was over quite fast. It was easy to swerve out of the way of Bradley's first charge. I didn't even know what he was trying to do; there was no coordinated plan of attack, no training whatsoever, he just ran at me like a stunned cockroach. So I let him pass by me with ease. He stumbled forward and turned around, surprised at my quick side-step.
I shrugged at him with a "What was that?" look on my face and a tiny smirk. It made him even more pissed. That was good. You can tell if your opponent is good or not by how quickly you can make him lose his temper. You lose your temper, you're bound to make a mistake. A really bad mistake.
He charged again, even more carelessly than before, but faster this time. I was a little impressed at his speed, given he was such a burly guy. But I guessed he was captain of the basketball team, and you couldn't play that well if you were a slow mover.
I decided I wasn't going to kick his ass today, then. He was a white belt, after all; it wasn't allowed. You have to honor the high color of your belt, otherwise it isn't truly earned. I only needed to deflect and defend for now.
I switched my feet, giving another step to the side. I was just shuffling around, doing aikido evading moves. I let him pass by me again, giving a small push on his back, which added to his momentum and made him stumble forward even harder. He fell face first on to the mat. I heard a lot of muffled laughs around us. An audience was gathering for the show. I needed to finish this quickly and with as little fuss as possible.
Bradley stood up fast, facing me. Time to make him a tiny, wee bit more angry.
"What? How are you supposed to fight me if you can't even catch me?" I teased, relaxing my fight stance on purpose so he would think I had my guard down. He took the bait and lunged forward, trying to grab my arms. That was a bad, bad mistake. You never try to grab an arm from an aikidoka. Had he never seen a Steven Seagal movie? It was such a classic move!
His hands brushed my wrists for a fraction of a second. The secret was all in the timing: you had to let him make the first part of the move, but not complete the action entirely, so you could use his own movement against himself. I twisted my wrists in a fluid twirl, making his fingers lose his grasp completely, and took another half-circle side-step, ending up by his side. While I was shifting my position, I swiftly grabbed his arm, twisting it backwards.
So within a few seconds, I had him hostage. If he tried to make a move, I'd twist his wrist just a fraction, which would force him to stop or he'd break his own arm. It was all about twists and pressure applied in the right places. You didn't need muscles; you just needed to be fast and use your opponent's own moves.
He soon realized he was immobilized. And under my power. The more he struggled, the more I tightened my grip on his wrist and the more it hurt. If he pushed or pulled too hard, he would cause his own wrist fracture. Our training session was officially over! Ta-da!
