The Hook Punch – Why Do Martial Artists Neglect It?
If you're a traditional martial arts point fighter, you could go your whole life without experiencing a good hook punch.
If you're a street fighter, you could see it on any given day.
There's something about the hook punch that is naturally ingrained in the human combative complex. When tensions raise and the body experiences a dump of adrenaline, some instinct in the primordial part of our brain knows how to throw a hook punch.
Of course, a lot of the panicked and sloppy "bombs" we see are hardly efficient, but that doesn't mean they're ineffective. Sure, a drunk street punk may sprain his wrist while swinging his fists wildly, but all that body weight and tension can hurt or kill if it connects.
What is a Hook Punch?
Let's step back for a moment and define what a hook punch is. I think this video featuring Anderson Silva lays it out nicely in just over 1 minute:
You'll notice the crucial element is that the strike engages the target from a side angle rather than straight on. The punching arc can range dramatically from ultra wide, to just slightly bent.
The modern day understanding of a good hook punch derives mostly from American Boxing. The footwork (pivoting the front foot, settling on the rear, creating a snapping action) is a hallmark of good boxers and fighters like Silva.
The major difference between good boxers and street attacks is the execution of the technique. Boxers keep the hands tight in and use the hook punch when in mid-close range. The punch snaps out and back in order to maintain proper coverage of the body. Street attacks are often deep, committed swings with lots of body weight behind them.
Why Are We Assuming Hooks Are So Prevalent?
As any good geometry student will tell you, the shortest distance between any two points is a straight line. Wouldn't it stand to reason then that most attacks occur in a linear path, like a lot of TMA striking?
The reality is...no. The arc of the hook punch feels strong to novices and therefore comes out more naturally. Furthermore, American Boxing is still a very deep part of western culture and most youths grow up with a dad/uncle/friend who is willing to show them a few moves. Therefore, in times of stress, people go back to the experience they have.
Don't take my word for it though, just observe a handful of untrained attacks (sucker punch and street fight). I think you'll notice a distinct trend (warning: real violence in the following videos. Nothing deadly, but caution advised).
I didn't have to dig deep into Youtube to find these videos. If you type in "street fight" or "sucker punch fight" you're going to see plenty of examples.
Why Is The Hook So Neglected In TMA Training?
The reality of the hook punch in real engagements, especially when sucker punching, is evident. Just as evident is the lack of proportional focus in traditional martial arts.
In a lot of TMA, we are taught the efficiency of linear striking. It stands to reason that when we work partner drills, we use those same linear strikes as a means to continue our training and development. The attacker strikes linear so as to practice his/her punch, and we defend in one manner or another.
Even TMA that are much more circular can fall victim to this because they maintain good technique when attacking. A powerful circular ridge hand or quick mawashi geri is not the same as a huge haymaker from a tense and lunging opponent.
The study of bunkai for demonstration has increased the problem as well. In order for bunkai to look orderly and organized, the attacks must be laser accurate and in time with the defender. Slapping and windmill punching from the attacker would be troublesome for the demonstrator, and disrespectful to boot.
Traditional training can be beautiful, but it can also distract from reality at times.
How Can We Avoid the Neglect?
If we conclude that the hook punch is an oft used weapon in real violence, then we should make an effort to improve our ability to handle it. Doing so is fairly easy if we take the time. To integrate more hook punch practice into your martial arts life, follow these steps:
1. Assess the amount of time you spend dealing with the hook and determine if you could benefit from more practice.
2. Learn how to throw a hook punch well...and poorly. Use the videos above and elsewhere online if you don't have an expert in your dojo.
3. Communicate your desire to focus on the hook punch with your partner, show them the proper& improper ways to throw it, and have them attack you with it.
4. Attack slow at first so you can begin to analyze which of your techniques work and which are dangerously ineffective against the new arcs of attack.
5. Increase the speed and impact of the attack so as to feel the body weight and momentum.
6. Receive the attack from unspecified hands and at unspecified times. Remember, a sucker punch is tough to see coming so you want to practice natural response defense, not just thoughtful defense.
Seeing is Believing, But Feeling is REALLY Believing
For centuries, being the uke of a skilled instructor has caused cold sweat and second thoughts in students. There's something about bowing and walking toward your impending doom that seems like a bad idea.
Times have changed somewhat, and with the increase in school sizes and seminars students are more likely to watch techniques from an expert rather than experience them. In fact, a lot of students get good at melding into the background when the instructor gazes around the room for viable volunteers.
This begs the question - what do you get out of watching a technique vs experiencing it?
Back in the 'ooool days, teachers didn't do a lot of active discussion. They mostly demanded repetition from students and then tossed them around to demonstrate technique. There's something intangibly effective about this method (just watch the old masters for proof).
However, we've learned a lot more about pedagogy since then and the ways in which we can maximize human learning.
It's silly to ignore the value of discussion, explanation, and cognitive science. That's why western style teaching has ultimately influenced martial arts all over the world. A dominant part of the western teaching philosophy is watching and listening (just imagine any given classroom).
When you watch a martial art technique performed, you get a big picture sense of what's happening. You can observe the distance between the two opponents, the way the engagement occurs, and the way it concludes.
A detail-oriented teacher can explain the ways in which he/she is using physics to maximize force or leverage. They can show how and why they are disrupting their opponent's timing or balance.
This is all very valuable input, but not a complete learning experience. Think of it this way: You could watch Xgames skateboarders every day for ten years, including every instructional video made. Armed with all that knowledge, what do you think is STILL going to happen the first time you step onto a skateboard?
You might think to yourself...well yea Matt, your point is obvious - a student has to train to get better. That's why we do partner drills after an explanation, so that we can try the technique!
Not so fast.
Two people that don't know the technique can help each other improve...but are either truly doing what the instructor is doing? Is it as good? How do you know?
Being the uke for an experienced instructor, while often regrettably painful, offers a unique learning experience. You get to feel exactly where the pain is supposed to focus, how the body's balance is broken, where the points of relaxation and emphasis are placed, and what rhythm is needed to optimize effectiveness.
In addition, you get to feel the energy and spirit pressure placed upon you by someone at a higher skill level.
Of course, there's a flipside. When acting as uke during intense techniques, your mind is often narrowed and sometimes blanked by the intensity of the event. You can certainly feel things, but recalling exactly how it happened (and why) is another story. There have been many occasions where I've been uke for an instructor and shortly after their demonstration I've walked back to my training partner in order to ask what happened.
Receiving high level technique is critically important...but not independently ideal.
The Best of Both Worlds
Maximizing your learning potential requires a little bravery. First, you have to take your best blending-in-with-the-crowd tactics and stuff them in a box under your bed. Get up there and experience the real thing. On top of that, you can't be afraid to ask questions, even if it means going through another round of demonstration.
On the other hand, you don't want to get too caught up in the action. Give yourself a chance to slow down and really look at what's going on. Analyze the science in order to get to the art.
Remember: technique speed and physical strength are the go-to methods of students who are trying to breeze over the finer details of a technique. Do things slow and relaxed until you get it right. Pay attention to the small things like foot placement, body movement, angle, timing, etc.
If you have a teacher who tends to discuss technique while relying on partner pairing, politely wait for him or her to become available and ask to see the technique a bit closer. Every teacher I know is happy to oblige such requests.
There's no question that caution and common sense should always guide your training, and I'm not suggesting you throw yourself headlong at every teacher you see (that would be impolite, and some teachers should genuinely be avoided because they lack control). But if you are with a good, kind teacher that also happens to be very skilled...it's in your best interest to experience what they can do first hand.
How to Avoid Question Paranoia
There's nothing more valuable to a martial arts teacher than good questions. When someone asks me a great one (and even shows the patience to listen to my answer) it just makes my day.
When I have some insight to a question, I enjoy sharing relevant stories and details that I think might help the student's progress.
When I'm stumped, I get to say to myself: "Oh sh**.........I dunno!" (also known as OSID moments).
OSID moments are worth their weight in gold and can be more helpful in a teacher's development than any secret scroll found in the mountains of Japan guarded by the Tengu. The more experience you gain, the more knowledge you gain. But an OSID moment is a brief glimpse into an area of your study that you have either overlooked or shortchanged during your research. Furthermore, an OSID moment invites you to peek outside of your own box, which can become rather thick and opaque if you're not careful.
It's true, receiving questions is vital to a teacher. We also know that getting answers is essential to any student (almost goes without saying). Why then do we often find ourselves (both as students and teachers) in situations where question-asking-paranoia kicks in?
What is question-asking-paranoia?
It's that flutter in your stomach. That cold sweat of uncertainty that takes your half raised hand and slams it back down to your side. The symptoms develop differently at every stage of your martial training, and the internal dialogue often goes like this:
Early stage: "Ohh man, I'm just a noob. I barely know enough to stand on my own two feet let alone ask any relevant questions. The other students are going to think I'm an idiot!"
Middle stage: "Ohh man, I'm in brown belt territory. If I want to test for black belt I better not show any gaps in what I know. I think I'll clam up until after black belt so I don't look like an idiot."
Late stage: "Ohh man, I'm a black belt now and the other students are looking up to me. I better pretend like I know all this stuff already or they might think I'm an idiot!"
Very late stage: "Ohh man, I'm an Nth degree black belt and super guru. I couldn't possibly ask a question...in fact, they should be asking ME questions. These guys are idiots."
When you compare these very common mental roadblocks with the true value of questions (as clarified above), you'll see the incongruity. This is a disease of the ego and of external perceptions which hinders your progress.
During your training you'll almost inevitably find yourself fall into a trap just like this. I'd like to give you express e-permission to ignore it. Your ability to ask valuable questions should be practiced just as much as any punch, kick, or stance. In fact, your long term growth will depend on it.
