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life essay: part 8
One of the unexpected benefits of being invited to perform abroad was that we all received a small spending allowance - about $5.00 a day. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with the money - buy a watch for my mother. A genuine Swiss watch. At that time, watches were considered a luxury item in China. Imported watches were quite expensive, and a Swiss watch was a thing of awe. The only way an average laborer could afford to buy a Swiss watch was maybe if they starved themselves for a few months. My mother was very happy when I presented her with that Swiss watch. She hugged me and said I was a good boy.
Very soon after we returned to China, they started training us in earnest again. Competitions were coming up - and this time they were official tournaments. Later that year, I competed in the All-China Youth Championships. "Youth" meant everyone under the age of 18. I guess that would count as my first official national championship title.
The next year, China began preparations to stage its Third National Games. The National Games are like a domestic version of the Olympics; they include all competitive sports: swimming, gymnastics, track and field, and so on. They're held every 4 years - that was the theory, anyway. In the 25 years since the founding of New China, they'd only managed to hold it twice back in the 50's before the Cultural Revolution put everything on hold. So the 1975 National Games were only the third since Liberation - and the first since the Cultural Revolution. For the government, it was an extremely important event with great symbolism. The entire nation felt that way, actually.
Again, I started to notice a shift in my training. The pressure began to increase. People had higher expectations of me because I'd just won the youth championship. Personally, I didn't think too much of it. I knew that there were plenty of other athletes who trained a lot harder than I did, especially the adults. But winning the youth championships had allowed me to "skip a grade" - that is, I became eligible to compete in the 18-and-over category. There I was, a 12-year old competing against people in their twenties and thirties. I started to feel pressured to represent myself well.
And have I mentioned that my coach was very strict? He pushed us further than we thought we could go, and he would not hesitate to "discipline" us. Though actually, I didn't get hit as often as some of my teammates. With me, all he had to do was make some cutting remark; that would be enough to make me stand in the corner and practice for hours.
As the National Games approached, though, my coach suddenly stopped teaching me, and I didn't understand why. He began to seek out other distinguished wushu experts from all over China and ask them to instruct me. It was like being taught by a series of guest lecturers, and none of them were as strict as my own coach.
What a relief! Oh man, was I thrilled! I mean, the mere sight of my coach could make me quiver. And not just me - all of us did, we were so scared of him. But these other masters weren't nearly so frightening. They worked with me very seriously, and explained things very clearly - why one should move like this, how to do this - but they didn't really punish me at all. It was definitely a change of pace. And I was the only one who was getting these special tutors. Everybody else still had to practice as usual.
Fine with me! I'd escaped my punishment! No more punishment for me!
In May of 1975, an important invitational tournament was held in Kunming, Yunnan Province, for participants from eight big cities. Essentially, it was an invitational for prominent athletes to test their skills against each other, a kind of prelude to the National Games. There were five events and I happened to win first place in each category. Things were going well.
But everybody's main focus was the National Games, which were being held in Beijing. You might say that we had entered our most anxious phase. Three days before the official start of competition, I was at the arena for the final qualifying round. Even though it was a preliminary round, I still had to take it seriously. That performance would prove to be a fateful one.
I stepped onto the carpet to start my sabre form. The very first move I made was an accident. I sliced myself with my broadsword. Just cut a big gash on the side of my head. Funny thing was, I had no idea...
TO BE CONTINUED...
