Jeet Kune Do. Teri Tom

      FOREWORD BY TED WONG

      "True refinement seeks simplicity." —Bruce Lee

      At different times and in different places there suddenly appear individuals who produce something completely new in their chosen fields. Whether in science or art or sports, they have the confidence to go beyond the known and predictable, to arrive at something entirely different from what went before. Bruce Lee, in his short life, boldly pursued one thing, an original martial art. What he developed was a revolutionary style of unarmed combat, and it was an art only, and immediately, original to him: not a derivation, not a combination, not a collaboration.

      To Bruce Lee there was a profound difference between his JKD, and all other martial art disciplines. The fixed nature of traditional martial arts was, he thought, unworkable—methods too busy, too complex, and too rigid to be strong. He did not want superficial strength. The strength he wanted would come from a scientific approach to gravity and weight, efficiency and balance, force and speed. Driven to create a singular style, Lee placed the full-control of what he was forming in the hands of the only person he completely trusted—himself. He drew on his own character—his instincts, his physical conditioning, and his forceful intellect to communicate the distinctiveness of his art. Refined mechanics, exacting execution, incredible power—this is JKD.

      Only one individual, Bruce Lee, truly created and shaped JKD, and only Lee completely brought it to life from his personal conviction, determination and vision. But nothing comes from nothing—there is always something that precedes. Lee did have inspirations. They were not, however, of Eastern origin, but Western fighters: boxers Jack Dempsey and Jim Driscoll, and the fencer Aldo Nadi. Studying them reinforced Lee's definition of his own method. He made JKD basic principles few in number, but adaptable and dependable under any situation. Less being more, Lee emphasized disciplined, simplified positioning and movement, supported by effective analysis of diverse circumstance.

      Embodied by Bruce Lee in his lifetime, the truth of his art is clearly evident in Lee's films, his interviews, and especially in his writings. It is outrageous, then, to suggest that JKD is an extension of another discipline—a suggestion that runs completely counter to his life and work. And it is insulting to see JKD deemed by some as obsolete or so weak that it requires additional techniques to sustain it—a characterization which subverts Lee's significant form of unarmed combat. Let me state this plainly: no student of Lee's has surpassed him; no one knew better than Lee what he was doing and why; no one is qualified to alter Lee's work. Bruce Lee created JKD. Add something to it, or take something away, and you are doing something other than what Lee taught.

      I first met Bruce Lee in 1967 at his school in Los Angeles' Chinatown. Even before our meeting, however, I knew him from television, in his role as Kato on The Green Hornet. Lee's Kato was like a cat—quick, graceful and powerful. His appeal far outshone that of the show's hero. Never had an Asian character been portrayed in Western popular culture like Lee portrayed Kato—tough, cool, confident. It was the beginning of Lee's iconic celebrity as the first Asian superstar. It is easy now to forget how unique Lee was. Martial artists are everywhere in the popular culture today, but forty years ago there was only one: Bruce Lee. Even with Asian stars such as Jet Li, Steven Chow and Jackie Chan, and with incredible advances in special effects, which allow anyone to look physically amazing on film—Bruce Lee remains without peer. His image and style still resonate with compelling effectiveness.

      The first time Bruce Lee ever spoke to me, in our second class, it was to demand: "WHO ARE YOU?" There had been a mix-up with my registration. After I explained, we started to talk in Chinese, and found that our similar upbringings had given us things in common. Yet standing next to Lee, there was no similarity between us whatsoever. I was a skinny, reserved young man. I had no martial arts training, but was instead a kind of blank page, which, perhaps, was my biggest asset. Like a "mad scientist" with an experiment, Lee could mold my understanding, and completely shape my experience. The first thing he did was to have me buy weights and start on a regimen to develop physically. Then within a short time, I began private lessons at his home.