THE LIONESSES' ROAR

Shit happens. Have you ever been called to the competition area and suddenly stopped due to a problem with the scoring system? Imagine a neverending wait of one, five, and then twenty minutes, without even knowing when this torture will end. Imagine experiencing that at a European Championship. Imagine this nightmare takes place in the final round. You would end up either imploding with pressure or exploding with rage. At Genova 2011, the Italian female team chose the latter.

(Photo courtesy of Aleksandar Golović)

YOU READY?

Harder than competing is definitely waiting for it. Handling the pressure as hours go by and they're still not calling out your division; that can make the difference for success. You've gone through your exercise over and over. You've been stretching the hell out of your muscles. You've been testing your balance on every single kick. And yet when you're there, it's a totally different world. The ground disappears under your feet, your balance is uncertain, and your technique feels washed out. Most people think fighting is tougher than Poomsae. I agree. But Poomsae are crueler, because they don't give you the chance to undo your mistakes. And one big mistake you can't afford to make is stepping on the tatami without taking with you the joy of performing. Yeah, joy is the key, here. Feel free to get a little cocky out there, showing off a bit is just part of the show. Enjoy this minute when you're only asked to be beautiful. So don't be misguided. It's not your body you have to warm up. Reiterated stretching is mostly superfluous, because on the competition day adrenaline makes for all the flexibility you'd hope for. Neither you have to tease your brains with continuous repetitions. You know what to do, you've done it a million times. It's your spirit that needs firing up. Fuel your desire to impress. And when they call your name, just have fun.

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QUESTION MARKO

Once upon a time, there was Marco Archinti, one of the strongest Poomsae athletes Italy has ever had. His technique was polished, his side kicks were rock columns raising from the ground, and he was the dwarfish size that fits this discipline so well. In 2008 he moved to Spain when he was still at his peak, only a few months after getting a gold medal at the prestigious Alken Cup in Belgium. Then, we lost track of him. Some people say he's being training near Barcelona under Master José Santiago, technical director of the Spain National Poomsae Team. Further rumours have him undergoing surgery due to a broken Achilles tendon. Later on, an inside tip referred he'd been practicing the most boring sports on Earth, including running and swimming. The only certified truth, however, is that no one ever saw him competing again. As far as I know, he's suspended in a kind of Limbo, sitting on the thin line that separates still athletes and former athletes, leaving no answer to the question about his belonging. If I am to make a prediction, though, I'd say that the kicking dove is a migratory species; they can be missing for long, but when the winter of tiredness has gone, they cannot but heed the call of the competition. Because that is where they have their nest.

REGROUP

Competitive demo teams are like dominos. The fall of one piece triggers the fall of all of them. But if one man can repeat the same mistake over and over again, a team hardly does, because when mistakes occur, one group can look for a new starting point within the group itself. Like a flower at night, a team can close up, getting all of its petals looking the same direction. But you bet the next morning - whenever that'll be - it's going to bloom again. In all its glory.



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HIGH EXPECTATIONS

When I was a kid, I was constantly overdoing it, and I was often reprimanded for this. I don't know if times have already changed or it's just chance, but nowadays kids look to me like they're afraid of trying. Everything seems hard to them, almost impossible. They don't think they're up to the challenge, they don't think they're good enough to compete, they think splits are for dancers and flying kicks for supermen. Their athletic expectations are low, and so are their kicks. <<I can't>>, they keep saying. Thus, not only they have to be taught how to kick high, but how to dream big.
In Poomsae, "very high" has become the standard. The higher you kick, the more you score. Now it's not about being dangerous, it's about embodying a kind of sky-defying Babel-like spirit. Yes, something like <<These are my kicks! Can anyone get higher?>>. Freezing your side kick far over your head is like placing your own flag on top of Mount Everest. This is not combat. You don't need to be effective. You need to be stellar. So raise your feet from the ground, kids, because taekwondo isn't just meant to take you far. It's meant to take you high.

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IN YOUR FACE

No, it's not. At least in regular fights, you'll never see it like this. As long as you don't crouch when your opponent goes for your body. But when it comes to Poomsae, the common place of taekwondo as a kicking-only discipline turns out as a complete misunderstanding. Here, leg techniques are only 10%. Yes, they impress, but the exercise bulk is made of stances, blocks and hand-based attacks. Among these, fists are the most basic and yet crucial. Fast. Fluid. Steady. You have to put all your strenght into them, and yet reabsorb it as soon as they end their run. Now you're a light butterfly, then you're a marble statue. In Poomsae you undergo a continuous metamorphosis, where a single fist suffices to tell your skill. Fists tell no lies. Truths like fists, they say.

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