Those who know me understand that in general, I’m a pretty level headed fellow. Sure, I have strong opinions, and sometimes I can ruffle feathers, but in the main, I consider myself a steady hand at the dojo.
In other words, there’s not a lot that confounds me.
Which makes my reaction to a certain technique (fifth kyu, no less!) all the more bewildering. It’s as if I become Merkwürdigliebe, a stranger trapped in my own body, either attempting the technique or, more likely, strangling the host. Sure, I can make it work, but believe me, there is a world of difference between what I do, and what I see the shihans do.