his injuries as being in a car accident. It is reported that Bruce, after his fight with Won Jack Man, had been displeased with his performance and that is why he began to change his art. I recall having had dinner with Bruce shortly after that fight. At that moment, he had been most pleased with himself, considering that Won Jack Man was so very difficult to hit because he kept running and spinning and way from Bruce’s attack. It wasn't until Bruce was finally able to catch up to Man that they went to the ground where Bruce finished the fight. Knowing Bruce, I give Won Jack Man tremendous credit for his skills in avoidance. I think he was smart not to stand his ground with someone the likes of Bruce. At this period in Bruce’s life, he believed in ending the fight quick within the first few seconds. But this fight went on a bit with Bruce chasing his adversary with chain punches (straight blast). Anyone who has ever thrown bunches of chain punches knows how easy it is to tire quickly, since the activity requires involvement of Type II, Fast Twitch B muscle fibres for explosive outburst. Those type of fibres do indeed tire quickly before giving over to Type II, Fast Twitch A fibres, that also tire fast. Nevertheless, the outcome of a somewhat prolonged fight would have been adequate reason for Bruce Lee to more closely examine his method. Obviously, he viewed it as a problem and, like in the past, he set out to solve the problem.
I have told the story of how when in 1964 Ed Parker presented his first International Karate Tournament in Long Beach, where he invited a young and virtually unknown Bruce Lee to come and demonstrate his gung fu. For his demonstrators and forms competitors, Ed had had made available a special room where they could rehearse. In the room surveying the talent was Sensei Oshima, direct descendent of Funakoshi. Accompanying Sensei, Oshima was his highest ranking black belt, Caylor Atkins, a legend in his own right, who told me this story. At the time, neither Oshima nor Caylor had ever heard of Bruce Lee, nor had just about anyone else in the auditorium. Only Ed Parker knew of Bruce's economy of motion, speed, and power that were so incredibly unbelievable. Oshima and Atkins were standing in the center of the room when Oshima's eyes fastened on a handsome young man. As Bruce walked past, Oshima pointed his finger and said, "That one.. He is the only one here who can do anything"! Without having before ever seen Bruce Lee, Oshima was able to sense the young man’s ability simply by the way he carried his body. My friends, this was in 1964. Jeet Kune Do, as such, had not yet been invented.
Shortly before Bruce has left Hong Kong, he and Hawkins went to train with an old man who had mastered a number of gung fu styles. Although Bruce was only nineteen when he left Hong Kong he had already developed himself as a martial artist and a fighter. In Seattle, he would go on to train with an old man who had belonged to a Chinese ballet troupe (gung fu) and, who would take on all challengers whenever the troupe had entered a new town. The old man, among his other skills, was a Master of Red Boat Wing Chun. Bruce was already quite extraordinary. At 135 lbs., he could easily handle a 225 lb., U.S. Army Heavy Weight Boxing Champion/street fighter, not to mention the other four boxers in the original Seattle group, and the three judoka, one of which was a U.S. Judo Champion, Charlie Woo.
However, it was not Bruce the fighter that I feel is so much underestimated, rather Bruce the martial artist. Bruce has been underestimated because the level of his knowledge has been underestimated. Whatever people think JKD is all about, I can assure them that Bruce had his personal JKD that consisted of a lot more than strong side forward, straight lead, straight blast, some footwork, kicking, timing, etc. A lot more, indeed! In the Tao of Jeet Kune Do, page 24, is one of my favorite sentences: “It is not difficult to trim and hack off the non-essentials in outward physical structure; however, to shun away, to minimize inwardly is another matter. “Inwardly,” wrote Bruce. For a great deal of his personal training was to dig deep within himself. It was not technique that mattered, but how the tools, themselves, worked in relation to the body’s structure. To dig this deep he had to feel, explore, and analyze. He had to turn his study within to best learn how to maximize forces without resorting to using muscular strength. He taught himself how to use the short arcs of the joints, tendons, and bones for maximizing power. He eliminated intention in his initial movement, because with it he would not be as fast. He eliminated choice reaction, because it not only hamper his speed, but sacrificed the all-important beat in his timing. Instead, he would make his opponent make the choices. This was the foundation for what he called his “Fistic Law,” a worthwhile study unto itself. Bruce had gone within to study how to eliminate tension. Tension at the wrong time could become a dangerous tool for the opponent to use against you. A tense arm, shoulder, or body could act like a handle on a t-cup, giving the opponent a tool to disrupt you. Bruce’s way was to not create a handle within himself, but instead create the tool in his opponent.