Ninjutsu Uncovered

What do you do on a Friday night? Is it the end of your working week? Do you work Saturdays and Sundays? Nana Nap and out on the town…. Friday night when I was in primary school was great we just had to suffer hymn practice in the afternoon resulting in a very numb bum due to having to sit on the hall floor with a teacher that would waive her baton stick like harry potter waived his wand and we would still sing out of tune or sing inappropriate words and get sent out (but it was more fun that way) , after suffering this ordeal and after you could feel your legs you would make it back to your class room and see a surprise on the board for you...homework to be in by Monday! You would leave with a sprint unlike the tortoise speed of your return on Monday morning with the homework you did just after your tea on Sunday night before you went into the bath keeping the Sunday night bath night tradition alive and well. After getting home and you wolfed down egg, sausage and chips with lashings ...

Sitting on the seat at the front of my house waiting on stand by for Kerry to drive passed and pick me up with two excited school girls on board molly and Erin to go shopping! Girls don’t need motivation once they hear those words…me on the other hand …. I was sitting with the sun hitting my face for what seems to be the first time this year (it is now February) I am wearing my bobble hat , long sleeved t-shirt and a body warmer and feeling like an alpine ski instructor on the side of the mountain waiting for my ski school to turn up. It seems that the dark days have been here for ever, you get up in the dark, go to work in the dark and come home in the dark and only know if it is raining when people come into the gym wet! When the clocks go back in October you get a little more light to help make the day brighter, apart from babies and young children that have their own body clock and can’t tell the time so just after you have getting them into a sleep pattern so you can get a little...

I have a painting of Rocky Marciano vs jersey Joe Walcott that was painted by Billy Murphy who was my dad’s cousin, strangely his dad was a good boxer who went by the name of Billy Farrell. The story goes that my dad was visiting them and commented on the painting as he liked these boxers so Billy gave it to him (1960’s), every time they met up Billy always asked for it back and my dad would not part with it. The painting now hangs at the bottom of my stairs next to a grandfather clock, two symbols of my life one about the past and the other guiding the future. I have seen the painting of those amazing fighters all of my life through each stage of my life and it will possibly remain somewhere in my family for many generations to come. When I was born, in the 70’s (1970’s not the 1870’s for the cheeky ones) as a toddler I would often ask who they were and I first learned their names from my dad who was a very good amateur boxer with a good record and even had the offer to turn pro but ...

Hanging by your fingernails My body is trying to shut down but I still have a few weeks until Christmas. I long to lie on my lazy boy sofa and be just that a lazy boy but it is not that time yet I still have much to do… Sometimes you wish your time away, thinking of lazy do nothing days and holidays and dreaming of a day where you don’t remember what day it is or for that matter what time it is…. No matter what you do to fend off those day dreaming feelings you have a lot to do before then. What I have noticed is that no matter what you tell yourself when you know you have some downtime coming your body starts to ignore your brain and thinks it can start to wind down, then your brain joins in by not wanting to do the things you are supposed to do until you can rest, both physically and mentally. Like I always say that your mental state is 9/10 and your physical is 1/10. This ratio seems wrong but time and time again I have been proved right (the major of rightsville) when your head i...

Boot camp is a term used by the U.S Military to turn civilians into military personnel. Recently it became popular to live out a fantasy in the comfort of your nearby park or car park thinking you are G.I Jane or a member of the S.E.A.L’s and heading up this is your very own Master chief , the boot camp guru. You can often see this creature with a large SUV with the whole car covered or vinyl wrapped with all the info and hype to make you sign your life away for an “Intensive 8 week course” for just the price of a small mortgage. You excitedly turn up at 6.30 am (Because the Army gets up at 6am) In a local park with the mixed bag of early risers, fitness chic divas, and all the gear no idea headband wearing I.T consultants. Then in skids the Bootcamp Guru wearing combats and vest thinking he is just about to go off with Clint Eastwood in Heartbreak Ridge, He has different tops for different days but all of them are in slim fit size so his tanned, tattooed Greek god appearance is in ful...

THE HIDDEN ART OF THE NINJA I live the life of a full time ninja, I spend my days training with weapons and learn how to kill people and teach others to do the same This was pointed out to me one morning when I was taking my oldest daughter Molly to school due to the ‘Heavy Rain’ that would ruin this morning’s hair creation. I was asking her what classes she would be doing and she said “Maths, English, History and then later P.E” then she asked what classes I had so I said “Grappling, Sword work, Ninjutsu, Kickboxing, Self-defence training (switched on self-defence of course) then a group class of Ninjutsu!” “Wow” she said “you’re a full time Ninja...” I have always tried to show Ninjutsu in a positive light and tried to show the good bits of the art and not get dragged into the watered down deluded art that seems to be around the world spread by the Master teachers of Master teachers and bulls**t artists that are living in a bubble thinkin...

Learn to kick ass girls This is a subject close to my heart as I have a lovely wife and two amazing daughters, a half a dozen nieces and a gaggle of women in my life. Growing up in the 70’s we used to all play outside until we got the final call to come in (normally sounding like a death threat) so we would promise to get back to the game of hide and seek or British bulldog the following evening. Days were spent playing outside running in for money for the ice-cream man and chasing him down with just enough for a 99 and a snowball. We all played ‘around the doors’ not too far from home because you never know when the full football team would need half time’ dilutee’ pop in an old plastic bottle dragged to the pitch from the Mam café situated at my house (“ I am not feeding the street” was I term I heard quite often but she did ) The kids those days were more switched on to danger because they lived it every day , we walked to primary school or got the ...