Dean - Becoming the Black Belt: One Mans Journey in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu

For those who believed in me. Thank you.

by Nic Gregoriades, Author of the Black Belt Blueprint

Martial Arts.

That phrase has shaped so much of my experience on this planet.

From the 6-year-old who worshipped his karate instructor father, to a teen obsessed with the combat abilities of 80s and 90s action movie stars, to an adult that makes his living teaching jiu jitsu, martial arts have been the common thread throughout my life.

Although it has been an overwhelmingly positive adventure, I have experienced two major disillusionments during my 30-year journey into the martial arts.

The first was the discovery that many of the traditional systems I had been so enraptured by during my youth were, in their current forms, non-functional.

For most of the 20th century, due primarily to the influence of cinema, the focus of martial arts became diluted and their practice overly abstract. The above mentioned action movies, with their over-the-top fighting sequences featuring flashy but unrealistic high-kicks, led many to systems which neglected actual combat or even sporting effectiveness.

The advent of the UFC and the paradigm shifts it brought completely shattered my confidence in the arts I had been learning and caused me to question many things.

The second disillusionment occurred early in my career as a jiu jitsu competitor and instructor. Having just left South Africa and begun training and competing in Europe and America, my newfound network granted me access behind the curtain of the jiu jitsu and MMA global stages.

I had naively believed that higher-level martial artists were higher-level people, and it was a crushing disappointment to see that many of the stars of the combat sports I revered could be both extremely arrogant and volatile.

While the rise of the mixed martial arts competition and the phenomenal global popularity of the UFC did so much to help with the popularity of the combat effective arts such as Muay Thai and jiu jitsu, many feel that has come at the cost of adherence to Bushido.

We see a world of highly skilled athletes and dangerous fighters, but very few who embody the reverence and discipline intrinsic to the way. For every humble and composed Georges Saint-Pierre there are dozens of brash individuals who have no respect for their opponents or for the traditions of the arts which give them their abilities.

Roy Dean is one of the very few who has walked the middle road. He has taken the highly martial systems of Brazilian jiu jitsu, judo and wrestling and infused their practice and dissemination with the discipline, respect and aesthetics of the traditional arts.

The first time I heard about Roy Dean was when I was a blue belt. Even back then, his teaching was held in very high regard in jiu jitsu circles. A training partner got hold of one of his DVDs and lent it to me. At that point, I had already watched hundreds of instructional videos and it seemed to me that most of the content and presentation was pretty similar. But Roys was different. I could tell instantly that there was a composure and a stillness to his presence. He didnt have the usual tough guy persona that I had come to expect from most of the Brazilians who were producing this type of content. Instead, he spoke with a quiet authority, explaining the details of complicated techniques with a sublime simplicity.

The study of martial arts, when done properly, represent a quest for self-knowledge. We train because we want to know our capabilities, our limitations and our potential. If the individual is dedicated to the quest there invariably comes a point whereby in order to progress he will need to become vulnerable. You may become good or even excellent at your chosen art but you will never achieve mastery without it - you cannot learn to attack without letting your guard down.

There is much wisdom in this book, but what I admired most is the vulnerability shown. Despite being a highly accomplished martial artist capable of subduing 99.9% percent of the worlds population in unarmed combat, there is not a trace of pride or conceit. Instead, Roy relates his journey by sharing his trials, disappointment and fears, and it is all the richer for it.

The true martial artist is not some thug who delights in hurting others, nor is he a delusional zealot who swears blind allegiance to a system or style. He is instead an ever growing, open human being who is dedicated to mastering his craft, whether it be punching, grappling, or in the case of Roy Dean, life itself.

Becoming the Black Belt is the story of a true martial artist and I wholeheartedly recommend it as required reading for anyone who sets out on the path.

Its people like Roy who made me believe in martial arts again.

Nicolas Gregoriades

Kyoto, Japan
5th January 2016

A moan just came from the bottom of my soul.

I was in agony.

Air couldnt enter my lungs.

I couldnt move.

But neither could I quit.

I was being crushed alive by a man. Not just any man, mind you. A man who had earned the nickname of Boa, as in boa constrictor, for his spine twisting, rib breaking, soul-crushingly tight application of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ).

This man was one of the famous Dirty Dozen; the first twelve Americans to earn their black belt in this powerful art after it leapt to worldwide prominence in the wake of Royce Gracies display of jiu jitsu in the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC).

This man, Mr. Roy Harris, was my instructor, mentor, and friend. In this moment, though, he was hurting me. Smashing me. Effortlessly, I might add, using the weight of his body in a clinical and controlled manner.

Mr. Harris allowed brief moments of mercy where I gasped for air, before he shut down those opportunities at will, eliminating the space that my lungs needed to open. No expansion, just compression. His body on mine, dominating me.

Then a moment of relief.

I struggled to survive, attempting to counter these positions, but Mr. Harris would counter my counter. He was a third-degree black belt, and I was childs play.

Outgunned and outwitted, it became a physical and mental battle in which youre continually losing, yet you cannot quit. Youre not expected to win, but you have to keep going.

Even if youre tired, or injured, or dont feel like you have another big movement in you to relieve the relentless pressure, you cant stop.

Thats when you begin to moan. Involuntarily. Thats when you really dig deep, even though you thought you were digging deep an hour ago.

You read that right. An hour ago. The test is three and a half hours long, and the moaning is a stunning finale.

Thats what this man wants to see. How you react when youre feeling low. Oppressed. When the strength has gone.

Now he can see your true technique. Now he can see your heart. Its not easily exposed. It takes time to get to it. But hell find it. He knows many ways to get there.

This was a baptism by fire, and the mats of the Harris Academy were the crucible. It was also a launch pad into the realm of leadership, into a realm of mastery that few will ever achieve.

Every birth is a difficult passage, and this was no exception. The tip of my pinky hung like a chad, and was taped to the next finger. The tendon had popped off the bone.

My right ankle was heavily taped and nearly immobilized, football style, since the tendons been snapped in a figure-four toehold six weeks before.

It was only pain, and none of it mattered. Because this was happening. I was getting my black belt, and I was going to finish this test.

You probably already know this, but in case someone hasnt taken the time to point it out, let me do so now.