The Black Belt Wall Street Ninja

Growing up in my quiet, little suburb of New Yorktrue warrior, he is recovering quite well and vows to
City, my three children and I were surrounded byreturn to his martial arts. When my brother quit, my
martial arts equipment, movies and activities.ÂDad was only at the beginning of his career,
My father, a Wall Street lawyer and his son werecontinuing on to second and third degree black belt
attending judo lessons. In addition towhile in his late fifties. He is now seventy
traditional judo, the class provided a combination oftwo.
various styles and techniques, an approach popularMy father went to his class twice a week for more
these days with the synthesis of different culturesthan twenty years, becoming good friends with the
and traditions.men in his class at the local YMCA. When he
Ârecently was forced to stop, he spoke not only
Never allowed to attend class myself, I was alwaysabout missing the activity, but missing the community
told I was too young. I had to live vicariouslythat was formed through the class over the years.
through my older brother Daniel. My brother wasTo excel in judo or any martial art, one needs
never into mainstream sports and in some waysdiscipline in the subject. I learned this myself from
could have even been considered on the "geeky"dropping out of the hopkido class I took in college,
side, but when it came to the sport of judo, he wasafter less than one year (though I still
a true success and in my eyes-a star. Wepractice). My father certainly had an
would often attend these tournaments held in someabundance of discipline. Every night after working in
big gym in a "far away land" such as Washington D.C.Manhattan, for up to twelve-hour days, he would
or Pennsylvania, me, my siblings and my mother,come home and do his martial arts forms in
would all watch him compete, cheering him on as aour back yard under the cloak of darkness, his mouth
family. Judo night for my brother and fatherbreathing into his hooded sweatshirt in the winter to
was a bonding experience. Together they workedconserve heat. We still joke around the
themselves up through the ranks to black belt, whenhouse about when my neighbor, a twelve year old
my brother abruptly stopped, deciding to devoteboy, commented to my brother, "I think I saw a
most of his time and energy to academics.Âninja in your back yard last night."
Subsequently, his trophies, which I held in such highAnyone who is interested in pursuing or continuing
admiration, began to collect dust in his closet, he was in the martial arts should be inspired by this
seventeen when he quit.story, as my father, an overworked New York City
 My father however, continued on for manylawyer, found time to work his way up to third
years, until recently, when he hurt his leg in a tragicdegree black belt, in a house full of four demanding
chainsaw accident, the shock from the wound on hischildren, with a very demanding lifestyle.
leg caused complications with his digestive track. A