Talking to the Owl

Fencing season!  Time to organize the fencing bag!  My coach always tells me that being organized for the tournament gives you a 10% advantage.  Winning a tournament takes approximately 60 touches, so that’s 6 touches.  Depending on the touches, it could be the difference between a medal or no medal.

What’s in my bag?  I start with two body cords and at least three working weapons.  Even though I can fix my own weapons, I always go over them with my coach the Friday before the tournament, because then I know someone is behind me and is caring for my performance.  It’s my %5 confidence boost and it’s our relationship as coach and student.  

For weapons, my primary weapons are two German maraging with light blades and an even lighter Ukranian blade with Russian grips. I like to throw in a French grip weapon as my fourth backup:  If I don’t need it, a right-handed teammate could always use it in a pinch.

Except for tightening screws, I never fix my own equipment at tournaments; my job is to fence.  However, I am always am prepared to have someone fix my equipment for me. I bring a kit with super glue, an Allen wrench, screws, big and small springs, an extra tip, a shim, test box, and a screw driver.  Lost screws are the most common yellow card, so I always check my weapon before plugging in.  Between bouts, I try to remember to tighten my tip screws.  Acetone also comes in handy.  More than once I’ve met a poor mother with her hands full of super-glue after attempting to fix a son’s or daughter’s popped wire.  Helping strangers at tournaments is what fencing is all about.

Except my mask, everything I wear, including my t-shirt and underwear, is white.  I was taught that fencers wear white for purity, good sportmanship, and honorable bearing.  Fencing is an ancient sport that has been practiced by knights for hundreds of years and purity is at the heart of the knight ethic. 

The obvious items to pack are pants, jacket, glove and mask.  Too many fencers forget to wear a pair of baseball slider shorts with a cup: I’ve taken more than one good hard fleche that hit my cup hard enough for me to hear it.  My coach taught me to bring two extra cotton t-shirts, change into a clean shirt after the pools, and after the direct elimination bouts, change into a clean shirt.  It makes me feel better and it makes me fence better.  Part of fencing is being proud, and it’s hard to be proud in a stinking, wet t-shirt. 

I always wear my club jacket, and I never forget that I am representing my club.  When I win medals, I win them for myself, my coach, and my club.  I always strive for the highest sportmanship.  If I win a bout, I always thank my parter and never smile as I shake their hand.  Smiling on the handshake is impolite: If you’ve just won a bout, then your partner has lost and they probably don’t feel very good.  It’s rude to smile at someone when they aren’t happy.  If I’m happy and need to celebrate, I turn away to celebrate.  Fencing is passionate, and I do yell, but I always face away from my partner.

I always carry a first-aid kit in my bag: naproxen, band-aids, Gentle-tape first aid wrap, an Ace bandage, chemical cold presses, and moleskin.  Fencing is a martial sport - people get hurt.

Other things in my bag: a jump rope to warm up, an iPod to focus my mind, some nuts, figs, raisins (the sort of fair that an errant knight would eat), and a big bottle of water to keep at the end of the strip while I fence.