In between finishing finals, and beagling around with my evil beagle, I have been doing a lot of thinking about teaching practices of myself and others. A kid- let's call him Chipmunk- told me yesterday that his older brother, who had just recently joined MMA, got his arm broken. Already- within two or three months of training. Now accidents are accidents, but what is sounds like is that the training partner was overzealous, and the brother wouldn't tap. Rule number one in submissions- there are no wusses, only idiots.It seems like their teacher forgot (or didn't bother) to teach control. It's a big problem I find with kids. Now Lurch, who barely comes to class as it is, has always had a problem with controlling his power in sparring. Put a black belt on him, and now he thinks he's God. What he needs is a reality check in the form of a fist or foot hurdling into his face.
The Things, on the other hand, need some kind of concept of time. You can't waltz into an hour long class 15 minutes late and expect to get anything out of it.
*Sigh* sometimes I hate class. Ohter times, I like to watch idiots suffer.
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