Fight to Win. Martin Dougherty
them. The intent is to reach a solid level of all-round capability as quickly as possible. From this base, it is possible to progress in several directions, but as a general rule it is better to become very skilled with a small number of techniques than to collect dozens of variations.
While this book does allow a fighter to take a shortcut through the maze of available techniques, there is still no substitute for hard training—ideally with a good instructor or at least a competent partner. The shortcut is in terms of content, that is, not having to waste time learning a vast body of graded technique before getting to what you need, or going down blind alleys while experimenting with techniques. It is still necessary to put in the time to become skilled at these techniques and the system that binds them together. However, the time required to become highly skilled with twenty techniques is obviously going to be less than that required for several dozen.
Whether competition or “street,” a fight is an unpleasant environment to be in, where nothing ever goes according to plan. Simple techniques done well are a better option than flashy or overcomplex moves, despite how good they look in training.
With an attack coming in, it is necessary to do something about it right now, rather than the perfect thing a second too late. If what you do works well enough to keep you in the fight, then that’s good enough.
There is no intent here to insult any martial art, nor to suggest that much of a given system is useless. The body of technique in any martial art exists for a reason, and there is much to learn from a full and formal art. However, the purpose of most martial arts classes is not to produce an effective all-round fighter in the shortest possible time. This book is aimed at those whose goal is to become such a fighter, whether or not they also train in a formal martial art.
Most of the techniques in this book are equally applicable to Mixed Martial Arts (MMA) and self-defense. Some are more appropriate in a sporting context; some are illegal in most forms of competition. Applications are discussed when each technique is presented. All the techniques are found in mainstream martial arts, though not all of them will be contained within any given art. Thus, a judo player will be familiar with the takedowns and chokes, though he may give them different names, and a kickboxer will find that most of the strikes are contained in his art. These techniques are found at the core of fighting systems that have been in use for centuries, for the very good reason that they work.
There are various names for the techniques covered here. We will use generic titles for simplicity, highlighting similar techniques in common martial arts. As a rule, a technique that does the same job in roughly the same way can be considered to be equivalent. If your “home” art has a workable technique that fills the same niche as one presented here,”then you would be well advised to use the one you already know rather than trying to learn another way to get the same job done. After all, if you already have a chrome spanner, why go out and buy one that’s been painted yellow? It’s the same tool and it does the same job.
Often there are underlying principles that make techniques work. The concept of “broken balance” is vital to many restraints, standing submissions, and takedowns. On the right, balance is broken by bending him backwards, making it very difficult to resist or counter the hold.
Remember, our aim here is to develop combat effectiveness, not to learn a specific group of techniques and impress a panel of grading judges with them. That is the underlying theme throughout the book—no matter how scrappy or messy a technique looks, if it works then it’s a good one. Techniques are tools for winning fights. They need to be performed well to get good results, but it is the result that matters. Sloppy technique can be fixed later; a lost fight will stay lost.
Your “combat toolkit” must be flexible enough to be applied in many different situations. In most cases there’s no rocket science involved — a punch is pretty much a punch whether it’s delivered standing up or in ground-and-pound. The hard part is putting yourself where that punch can be most effectively delivered.
CHAPTER 1
Martial Artist or Fighter?
Martial Arts and Personal Combat
The term “martial art” can be defined as “fighting system,” or perhaps “military (or warrior) skills.” All martial arts have their origins in personal combat, often in a military context. However, over time the focus has drifted, and today the various activities that come under the heading of martial arts are quite varied. Not all martial arts have fighting as their focus, and some really have nothing to do with combat any more.
Some arts are geared more towards fitness, sport, personal development, the preservation of traditional systems, and all kinds of other goals. This does not make any of them intrinsically good or bad. If an art does what it is supposed to—like looking amazing on demonstrations, or instilling confidence and self-discipline in children—and does it well, then it is by definition good for its stated purpose and a worthy endeavor in its own right.
For our purposes, though, we are mostly interested in combat effectiveness and it is fair to say that some arts are more useful for personal combat than others. However, even the best fighting system has weak areas and blind spots. Finding them and plugging the gaps is the primary reason for a system to evolve over time. Early Mixed Martial Arts competitions demonstrated the need to be an all-around fighter. A combatant who can exploit the gaps in his opponent’s capabilities can win an easy victory, so it is logical to develop the capability to deal with all of the likely threats. Equally, some capabilities are not necessary to some martial arts due to their competition rules.
The axe kick looks awesome but it’s very hard to land one in a serious fight. The time spent learning to perform such difficult techniques is better spent on bread-and-butter skills.
It is important to view any given martial art in this light. For example, a striking art that does not allow any form of grappling or punches to the head in its competitions has obvious weak areas when outside these artificial constraints. It is optimized for a particular style of combat and is strong there. For example, ju-jitsu and judo contain many of the same throws and takedowns, but a ju-jitsu practitioner is expected to also learn striking and many submissions that are not contained in the judo body of technique. Which is better? That depends entirely on what you want to do with it. If your aim is to do well in judo competition, then you would be well advised to train in judo. For more general applications, ju-jitsu is more flexible.
A given martial art is not “bad” or “useless” if it does not cover one or another aspect of personal combat, but it may not be a good choice if all-round capability is your goal. Many highly focused arts contain excellent techniques within their own arena but are weak elsewhere. The only time this is a problem is when an instructor of one of those arts discounts a threat his students are ill-equipped to deal with effectively.
There is little point in training to fight from the clinch in a sport where the fighters are quickly separated, such as boxing. Clinch work is vital for more general applications, not least as a transition stage between “standup” and your “ground game.”
So it is perfectly fine to say something like, “we’re teaching non-contact karate. It’s excellent for fitness, self-discipline and we clean up in non-contact point fighting competitions” if that’s true. The same instructor claiming “We’re teaching non-contact karate, the ultimate fighting system ever. Grapplers? Pah, you just kick them right off the planet before they can grab you!” may actually not realize that what he is saying is untrue,