My master helps me on my journey
I was full of pride and arrogance having just won the World Kickboxing Championships in Venice. Nothing and nobody could touch me. I was so fast I could switch off the lights and be in bed before they went out.
Strutting into the Tonbridge School Dojo at Kings Cross I felt like a king. Unbeatable.
My Master looked at me and smiled. He said nothing all that day while I taught the kickboxing classes. All the students were coming up to me, congratulating and wanting to do personal classes with me.
At the end of a long kickboxing day he called me over and said we should do some training together. I thought it very unusual for him to want to train at the end of the martial arts day.
I padded up and he put on his kickboxing focus mitts. We started to train: one-two hook, hook, duck right left. Left, left hook right.
After a while I stopped. He looked at me and waited.
“Master, why are we not kicking as well, after all we are training in kickboxing.” (Smart ass).
He paused and softly said “because your kicking is rubbish.”
“Rubbish?!” I replied. “I have just won the World Kickboxing Championships, I am the best in the world, and you call me rubbish!”
“Yes, you are just a little bit less rubbish than all the rest!”
Thank you Master for a lesson in humility.
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