ITFNZ National Tournament 2006

Tae Kwon-Do scores the biggest win of all.
Michael Hoy, 1 Gup.

Wellington is a windy and cold place, a home of politicians, businesspeople and students, a city accustomed to traffic, nightlife and the odd concert or sporting event. It was to this place that 335 dobok-clad competitors and their supporters flocked on the weekend of the 7th and 8th of October for the 2006 ITFNZ Nationals Tournament; a tournament that many hold to be the most impressive yet, and one that would have a more climactic and more dramatic conclusion than any could have predicted. The question on my mind at first, however, was what did Wellington think about this many people in one place, all wearing such a funny costume?

Our venue was the Queens Wharf Events Centre on the Wellington waterfront, where a small army was assembled on Friday night for weigh-in. I watched my team-mates around me for first impressions of the competition arena; the general response was 'Ooooooooo...'. Before us lay an expanse of polished wooden floor, with judging tables arranged around five sparring rings. The centre ring was raised a metre from the floor on a black stage, making an epic display for black belt events - every competitor I spoke to had an independent vision of what would happen if someone fell off the stage in the middle of a fight. Before the stage was a VIP table covered with burgundy cloth. Down the northern wall there was a series of breaking machines and a pile of wooden boards, ready to be reduced to kindling. At the far end was a carpeted area reserved for warming up, which was being tested out by several people in heavy jackets and beanies running shuttle lengths - not willing to shave their head or cut their arm off they were doing what they could to sweat out any excess weight.

The tournament atmosphere the next day was a maelstrom of light and sound. Regional teams, dressed in colourful tracksuit uniforms, clustered in their marked areas on the raised seats overlooking the five rings and the marshalling area. Periodically each team would break into a somewhat coordinated chant, sometimes in lyrical verse displaying impressive originality, sometime in an uncoordinated baying that would reduce to a cheerful but droning repetition of their team name. With five events underway at any one time it was often difficult to say exactly who was cheering for what: somewhere in the distance a hand goes up in the air, and a surging wave of yelling indicates that it was one of our guys. Occasionally an MC would announce an event over a loudspeaker, drumming up support for one of the champions from one region or another and pulling all eyes in on the centre ring. Other times a particularly popular fighter would be on in one of the corner rings, and their teams would cluster around the seats above in a poorly colour-coordinated crowd, making a din so loud the fighters have trouble hearing the commands of their referee. The view of a fight from above was fantastic; no strike was obscured, no impact couldn't be felt vicariously and no pained facial expression was hidden - to a chorus of groans from the unlucky victim's supporters. Television cameras meandered around the floor, catching action shots and taking interviews from panting, sweaty competitors.

Depending on how organised they are you might see a fighter ready to go right on time. Alternatively or you might see one running down at the last minute, uncoordinatedly throwing on their sparring gear, narrowly avoiding the people randomly manning the hallways swinging their legs about, turning to go back for their mouthguard then scrambling to find a second to get some last-minute advice. Most people were well prepared, and the marshalling area was full of people warming up over the course of the day, doing press-ups, sit-ups and star jumps, shadow sparring, kicking pads and team mates around and wondering whether other fighters were playing mind games with them by looking extra intense. The look of the competitors around you ranges from those so laid-back that they are actually lying down, to those who appear semi-psychotic. You eye up your competition, wondering "Crikey, do I have to spar that monster?". Having mislaid your water bottle, your mouthguard and your second, then found them all again, the ring marshall points his finger at you, you put your shoulders back, put on the most nonchalant expression you can think of and set off for your ring.

You can't help but smile. With the hundreds of people cheering from the seats above, maybe even for you, you feel half a foot taller, and you get to that ring determined, saying to yourself "I did NOT travel all this way to give up now.". Kyong ye, kyong ye, kyong ye; junbi, kihap, 'ding!', and the game is on.

Sometimes a round is the longest two minutes of your life. Sometimes its over before you've even gotten around to using your favourite combo. Whether they think they're winning or losing, however, everyone fights with the same expression: determination. Your second, your team, your girlfriend and your mum are all yelling at you, and everyone thinks they have the best advice; all you are thinking is ' I want to hit that guy' and 'I don't want to get hit by that guy'. You hear a 'ding!', but its for another ring; you never stop fighting until your referee calls 'Goman!'. The fight is over, you're in the middle of the ring, and one hand goes up.

A new feature this year was the presentation of medals straight after the end of a division of sparring or patterns. Most who have entered a Nationals tournament in earlier years will agree that the endless medal presentation ceremony that comes on the afternoon of the second day is more painful than any sparring match. Many brave fighters will wince at the thought of sitting on the hard floor for two and a half hours as apparently everyone is given a medal for one reason or another. This year the smiling winners were given right away their very new and very shiny medals - impressively minted in the shape of a little tae-kwon doin in the heaven hands stance.

The early medal presentations were just one of the many feats of organisation that made this tournament one of the most impressive held to date. The arena was huge, well equipped and very pleasing to the eye. The referees and judges were as professional and conscientious as ever. A rule was made clear at the opening of the tournament that the arena floor was only for those currently competing, that all supporters were confined to the seats above, and that any competitors warming up and preparing must stay in the marshalling area until their names were called. With this system strictly in place the competition area was open, it was clear who was supposed to be where and when, and noone missed out on their view of the action. Squeezing through a crowd while trying to find out when and where you are fighting was a thing of the past.

Part-way through the first day all of the action suddenly ground to a halt as the entire arena rose to attention for the entrance of Grand Master C.E Serreff, our special guest who had done us the honour of attending this year's Nationals. He took station at the VIP table and watched over the course of events over the weekend, from time to time attending to mobs of competitors looking for an autograph on their new medals.

We were treated to a demonstration by our hosts over lunch. Nothing is quite so entertaining as watching a series of expert martial artists fighting eachother, performing expertly choreographed matrix-style moves and manoeuvres, taking on multiple opponents armed with sticks, baseball bats and a handbag, all for your entertainment as you munch your way through a chocolate muffin. We were also treated to the spectacle of our own Master Paul McPhail and Master Evan Davidson performing a pattern long lost from the current ITF syllabus, culminating in the simultaneous shattering of bricks from two terrifying downward punches.

Fantastic performances were put on in both patterns and sparring, by competitors in both Gup and Dan divisions. Tie breaker third rounds were common, and some of the peewee entrants were the biggest battlers of them all - one Red/Blue Belt match went into sudden death for several minutes. There were impressively low numbers of injuries. Team pattern events were incredibly professional; all teams clearly recognised the benefit of a well choreographed routine, demonstrating some very impressive and original routines. Team sparring, as the final event, was the height of tension and passion: there were cries of despair as the men of Counties-Manukau were upset into contention for third place, and supporters throughout the arena were hoarse with chanting and shouting as Auckland-North fought the South Island to eventual victory. The Auckland-North Mens team came out with gold medals in all four team events; Central Districts won three of four in the Women's division.

And so we came to the end of the second day, as competitors in various states of fatigue and confusion formed up again in dobok for the final presentation ceremony. Since all the individual and team winners already had the appropriate bling we were able to move onto the trophy presentation right away, presenting to the best of each belt and, at the peak of suspense, the trophy for the winning region: presented to Counties-Manukau. The cheers were deafening, and the Counties team boiled over into a mosh pit of hugs, chants and fists in the air as the rest of the hall clapped, perhaps feeling a little disappointed. Grandmaster Sereff spoke some final words of wisdom and appreciation, and he and the three Masters filed out.

Meanwhile, as all eyes were on the Grandmaster, a small scene was gathering in the corner of the room, where a concerned looking Mr Neil Breen was in consultation with Mark Trotter and Dan Jackson of Auckland and Counties. Eyes and heads began to turn as it became clear that something was amiss. Sure enough, a minute or two later Mr Breen explained that there had been a scoring error, which could lead to a change in the outcome of the entire tournament. Silence descended as each team learned from their leaders how close the result had been: Auckland-North and arch-rivals Counties-Manukau were tied on points. Whats more, the score that had not been recorded was for a patterns win by Erica Germaine of Auckland; which placed her in contention for Best Blue Belt with Chayse Gorton of Midlands; a title worth one more point that would win Auckland the tournament!

The sparring mats had been packed away and the Masters had left but the tension had never been higher as each team went back to their respective seats, chewing their white knuckles and being quietly glad that they were not the ones with the weight of the Nationals trophy resting on their shoulders. Each competitor was receiving pep talks from their captain. Each looked like they wished that they were at home, until that familiar determined look came over each and they prepared for their patterns play-off. The arena had never been so silent.

You could hear every breath and every foot movement, right down to the little toe squeeks that you make with your feet as you try to do the slow motion moves in Joong-Gun. Both competitors made an impressive effort, amazingly coming across as relaxed and controlled as if it were another day in training. Both finished, crying the pattern's name with spirit, to cheers from the entire arena; an uproar that was surpassed only when the judge raised his right hand, awarding the win of the pattern and the Best Blue Belt to Chayse. Tied on points, both Auckland and Counties raised their voices and their hands as each team member realised that after the error earlier things could not have turned out more perfect, more poetic, than a dead-even result and a shared trophy.

As Auckland-North gathered around their brave team-mate to congratulate her for her effort, we were called over to where Counties were having photos taken. Mrs Breen delivered a sincere speech, describing the unified Auckland region that had once been, and how the shared win is an expression of both the great friendship and the sporting rivalry between our teams today. She offered the trophy to Auckland-North for the first six months, after which Counties will take it back, ready to defend it when they host Nationals in 2007. Hands were shaken and teams were cheered as the unified Greater Auckland region posed for a winning photograph, before departing as winners and friends; knowing that the real competition had just started.

We are now facing down Nationals 2007, hosted by Counties-Manukau. With the tournament hosted locally the home team and their neighbours Auckland-North both have their eyes on a trophy not made to be shared. The challenge is laid to all other New Zealand regions to bring your teams North for your own chance to snatch it from between these two warring sides. This is the call to arms: with the clash of two reigning champions Nationals 2007 will surely go down in history.