Memoirs of a Karate Fighter
Novelist and former karate champion Ralph Robb recounts his experiences at one of Europe’s toughest dojos and provides an insight into the philosophy and training methods of a club which produced national, European and world titleholders. In a hard-hitting story, Ralph tells of the fights on and off the mat; his experiences as one of a very few black residents in an area in which racist members of the National Front were very active; and the tragic descent into mental illness and premature death of the training partner who was also his best friend.
Purchase Links
UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Memoirs-Karate-Fighter-Ralph-Robb-ebook/dp/B08X2WB8RT/
US – https://www.amazon.com/Memoirs-Karate-Fighter-Ralph-Robb-ebook/dp/B08X2WB8RT/
Extract – MEMOIRS OF A KARATE FIGHTER
by Ralph Robb
Funny, I can’t seem to remember any of the books I’d read as a child, except for ‘My Family and Other Animals’. The shenanigans in the wilds of Corfu had me captivated, but this book doesn’t count as it was forced reading and it didn’t have any impact on my thoughts once the book was put down.
Most of the reading material I consumed was surrounded by beautifully illustrated artwork and given names exotic names like Hulk, Spiderman or Shang Chi – Master of Kung Fu: all characters that were troubled, in ways which captured my imagination.
I remember listening to the local news where some poor kid was injured jumping off a roof wearing a red cape thinking he was superman. I told my sister, ‘It serves the fool right’ for reading DC comics instead of Marvel. (Please don’t judge me I was an insensitive kid at the time).
One book I can definitely remember going out of my way to obtain was ‘Enter the Dragon’. That book blew my mind, putting me on the path of reading regularly. (Come on, at least it set me the correct path! A teacher once told my class, ‘it doesn’t matter what you read so long as you read’. This could explain why many of that class ending up on the wrong side of the law).
It all began with my mother and her sister going to the movies to watch the Enter the Dragon movie. Despite by persistent begging, I was too young to attend, not that they would have taken me anyhow. That evening, I remember sitting in front of the living room coal fire and feeling disgruntled as mom acted out all the fight sequences, kicking and punching the air – demolishing her imaginary foes. She was only adding to my resentment of missing out but I still had to laugh when she told of how her and my auntie’s running commentary of the movie had almost got them thrown out of the cinema.
That was it! Next day I went to the local library, but they didn’t stock the Enter the Dragon book. So, I had to dip into my hidden savings and muster a few coins to go buy the book.
The seeds had been planted, whether it was to spark an interest in books or a yearning for the martial arts, it was a nudge in both those directions.
Book Excerpt
“ICHI . . . NI . . . SAN . . . SHI . . .” The sensei’s calls were rhythmic and hypnotic. For more than two very intense hours we had punched and kicked up and down the length of the dojo. It was an exercise that was punctuated with exchanges of techniques with a partner before we returned to our lines and started all over again. “Ichi . . . Ni . . . San . . . Shi . . .”
The instructor who was putting us through all this agony was Eddie Cox. He was a broad figure whose demeanour gave him a presence that made him seem far more powerful than anyone else in the dojo. Years before, when I had first joined the club, the first thing I had noticed about him was the thickness of his hands. Protruding from the sleeves of his heavy canvas gi, they resembled great lumps of black iron that had been forged in one of the local foundries for only one purpose: to inflict pain. With his dark skin and broad features, he looked like a sawn-off version of a young George Foreman – only something in his eyes made him look a lot meaner. The rumours about his toughness that I had heard while I was still a schoolkid had not done him justice. But it was not just karate that had hardened him. He had once been the toughest kid in the toughest school in town before he had ever started training. Until the day it was closed down, St. Joseph’s had a reputation for turning out more criminals than academics and was nicknamed ‘Joey’s Jailhouse’. Most of the boys attending the Catholic secondary school were of Italian or Irish backgrounds and Eddie was one of only a handful of black pupils – and it was an experience that had left its mark.
Author Bio –
Ralph Robb was born and raised in the industrial town of Wolverhampton, England and now lives in Ontario Canada with his wife, cat and dog. A proud father of four, Robb works as an engineering technician and loves rugby, martial arts and a good book. His world is balanced by quality TV, global events, great outdoors and of course his grand-daughter.
Social Media Links –
Facebook: www.facebook.com/RalphRobbBooks
Twitter: @RalphSRobb
Webpage: www.ralphrobb.com
Everything Is Better With Dragons 