Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Back on the Horse; Notes on Fencing To and From the Ground.

Phew! It's been awhile!

I've had a busy few months, faithful ZARMers, culminating in a week of suck, a week of awesome!, and now another couple weeks of suck which seem to be receding. Forecast of slightly snarky, chance of showers up to Great Western War.

That's right, kids, it's that time again--time for Great Western War! Until today, I've only been looking towards the war as another Thing I Have To Do (not that I have to do it, but we already paid for it and it's one of those tricky things I know I'd want to do if I wasn't so bogged down with stuff). As of now, we're going, we're camping, and we'll be there Friday night and leave Sunday afternoonish. It's possible we'll have to bail early--among the pail of o nuuuuuuuuuu! the universe dumped on us this month was a heart problem with our two-year-old kitty, which has been hugely stressful, heartbreaking, and expensive. "Chance of showers" has pretty much summed up my entire emotional state for the last two weeks, and I'm just now catching my breath.

Anyway, one of the things I am looking forward to about the war is getting to fence my squirrely little heart out. I haven't been giving fencing as much love as it needs this summer, and it's showing in my game, but I'm still stoked to get out there and shake my groove thang for a couple days. I really want to give fencing more time in my schedule... I just need to figure out how to make said time! :)

The substance of this post is supposed to be all about fighting on the ground. Last Saturday at Caid Rapier Open, Laertes noticed I was having some issues fighting both against someone who's on the ground and when grounded myself, and that's some of what we worked on on Monday night at Altavia practice.

Basically, my problem is that I revert to some basic no-nos of fencing technique when I'm on the ground that I totally know better than to do when standing. For example, I tend to present a flat surface to my opponent by facing them head-on (in as much as my torso ever gets flat... bow chicka wow wow!). This could be solved by fencing like I'm standing up, which is to say with my right shoulder behind my left and offhand held farther forward and a bit higher than I'm usually accustomed. It's a fine line between protecting my head and protecting my stomach, but it's mostly a psychological line--anyone attacking me while I'm sitting down is going to have a substantially easier time hitting my head and chest than my stomach.

Problem number two, obviously, is the position of my offhand. It needs to be higher. Better. Stronger. Cheaper. Well, higher anyway. I have a natural aversion to raising it too high because it uses some underdeveloped muscles and tires my arm out more quickly (gosh, I wonder how I could fix that problem). It also feels safer to keep it low, because my parry up (ie, raising the blade of the dagger from a nine-o'clock to a twelve-o'clock position and returning it to nine) is much faster than my parry down (dropping the blade from nine to six and raising it back up). The parry down is also less controlled and uses more of my arm, so I hesitate to use it any more than I have to. More things to work on. Or, as Laertes said so very succinctly, "PARRY DRILLS."

Fighting a legged fighter from a standing position will take a similar attitude adjustment. I have a pretty good foot void that keeps my forward leg from getting taken most of the time, but I still tend to stand facing the legged opponent most of the time anyway. My main strategy fighting a legged person is to take crappy little potshots in the hope of getting a good hit on the hand, arm, or head, which doesn't really work for me too well. For some reason, fighting like I was fighting a, you know, standing fighter, hadn't occurred to me. You know, all that basic stuff about engagement? Line closing? Constraint? Dagger use? All that? Yeah, no, none of that. Potshots, though. Heeeeeey.

There's nothing really ground-breaking in this post, discovery-wise, just little bits of technique I feel like it's worth commemorating (in part because I feel silly for not realizing them before).