Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
The word "Judo" is derived from the Japanese meaning of "the Gentle Way." Relative to Chinese Throwing Stars and Nunchucks, sure the sport must look tame to the true hard core Bruce Lee fans. But word to the wise: should you cross any of these Judoka in a dark alley, drop everything and run like hell! Just look at that Olympic move in the frame above—now that'll leave leave a mark on just about anybody I know!
Seriously, while the athletes I photographed today were incredibly disciplined and sportsmanlike, the last place you ever want to find yourself is in the death grip of any one of the Judokas. More to the point: avoid any close contact with them if at all possible—especially if it involves your face. I saw quite a few foreheads split open today. So many in fact, that I became an expert on predicting just how long it would take for the blood to gush out. Once you witness the clear and painful contact that leads to the pro-forma halting of the bout, you may start your countdown: 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi, and just like clockwork, on 4, blood will squirt out onto the mat. In spurts. It's really quite a sight.
Ange Mercie Jean Baptiste (ironically, her two first names when translated mean: Angel and thank you in French) of Haiti (below) was obviously a veteran at this. As soon as her forehead was split open and without missing a beat, she turned to the judge to pause the match so that she could do her thing in peace.
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
You'll notice the perfect timing on my part on capturing that little special "splash" when one blood drop meets.
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
This is a violent sport, people. If little Johnny or Sally comes home asking to join the Judo club one day, I'd recommend you steer them towards the kinder gentler sports of table tennis or badminton.
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
Ali Malomat had so much adrenaline pumping in his veins that he had to be told he was bleeding from the forehead almost a minute after the contact was made. Only once it became clear that his blood was becoming smeared into his opponent's face was the match paused.
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
But that didn't seem to slow him down much. Seconds later (now sporting a red head bandage) he returned the favor with a face plant to his sparring partner... ah... Karma...
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
One of the best matches of the night was the one between China's Yan Xu (in white) and Japan's Aiko Sato.
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
The Japanese-Chinese rivalry was in full effect—both on the mat and in the stands.
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
A deafening roar shook the building as Yan Xu defeated Aiko Sato - a definite highlight of the day in my book...
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
Dirk van Tichelt lost the Bronze medal when Rasul Boqiev decided to play "airplane" with him in front of a capacity crowd. Needless to say, it was not a soft landing.
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
China's Yan Xu didn't need any help—she flipped out (well forward—and she was self-propelled, unlike the majority of other participants this day) when she won the Bronze medal...
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
In what was perhaps the biggest upset of the night, World Champion Kichun Wang of Korea—who was clearly the most dominant and fearsome athlete throughout the day—was momentarily caught off guard and "Ippon(ed)"—which is the Judo version of the ultimate smack down (that immediately ends the match)—by Elnur Mammadli of Azerbaijan. Wang won't return home empty handed, of course; he'll go home with the silver medal. I just hope the North Koreans welcome him home with a tad bit more warmth than the response he received from his coach when he stepped off of the mat.
Photograph by Vincent Laforet for NEWSWEEK
One of the things I've learned during these last few Olympics is that in the path of every victor lies a defeated foe. To some, second place is what it should be: recognition for being one of the very best in the world. To others: the glimmer of silver and one's reflection in it, is almost worst than receiving nothing at all—something you can stare into and have an eternal reminder of just how close you came to being called: "an Olympic Champion." If there's anything that we're all witnessing and photographing
every day here at the Olympics—that gold medal, or that perfect
picture—can be gone in a blink of an eye... never, ever, let your
guard down, even for a millisecond.
