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Hey folks! Jump roping can really help your fencing, and it’s a very underrated activity in fencing that can help improve your hand speed, foot speed, explosiveness, and overall agility. It takes practice, and you will get frustrated in the process. I have provided a few workouts for you below. We’ll call them beginner, intermediate, advanced. I highly recommend putting on some good music, it makes it easier to establish a rhythm.

Beginner:

• Three 3 minute rounds (like a direct elimination match)
• Alternate between feet together, one foot at a time
• In final 30 seconds of round, double pace
• One minute rest between rounds

Intermediate:

• Four 3-minute rounds (like a direct elimination match)
• Alternate between feet together, one foot at a time
• Incorporate double jumps
• In final thirty seconds of round, multiple double jumps in succession, fast paced
• Thirty second rest between rounds

Advanced:

• Four 4-minute rounds (to go the extra mile and get the added wind)
• Alternate between feet together, one foot at a time, double jumps, triple jumps (if you’re a ninja)
• In final thirty seconds of round, multiple double jumps in succession, fast paced
• Thirty second rest between rounds
• In final round, only double jumps

Reblogged from Mary Griffith:

Ari Simmons was nice enough to sit down with me to talk about his monumental world championship win. You can read the full interview, in two parts:

Part 1: The Win

Part 2: Meeting Challenges Ahead

A parent who we shall call “Piccino” emails me some questions. I answered all of them.

Damien-

As the parent of a youth fencer who has seen some success at the SYC level, I really appreciate your site and commentary.  While I don’t necessarily agree with you on every point, I find your POVs well considered, thought-provoking, and well written.

Here’s some questions I’d love to see addressed:

How do you know when it’s time to switch coaches/clubs?

In your “Open Letter to Fencing Parents“, point 3 states “Use the sport to teach your child loyalty” and goes on to include your observation that “…too often, I see parents expecting instant gratification and shifting coaches around in a revolving door, expecting the quick swaps to yield quick results.”

 I agree with this point in principle, but wonder…are there any instances in which you WOULD advise a family to move on? Or at least, give them a pass for switching clubs/coaches?  If so, what are they?

 You disagree with ME?!?! Just kidding. Great question. I think there’s a couple of moments where it’s time for a fencer to move on from his/her coach.  For me, once I aged out of Juniors, I realized after a few Division I’s that the skillset I had was not translating well to elite competition, and I had to find another answer. I relied heavily on blade work, too much on my fleche attack, and had unsatisfactory footwork. With my shortcomings, I could not compete effectively at the level I desired. I had worked with my previous two coaches for ten years when I made my switch. This was not a “breakup,” however, because those two coaches I speak of are still like family, and they understood the move was best for my fencing. I just returned from a three week trip to Florida and took a lot of lessons from my old coach. I needed work on my short targets, and he happens to teach those very well. In short, it’s the moment where you feel you’ve hit your ceiling with your teacher that it is time to move on.

Other cases where you might move on: personality fit. One coach’s style of motivation/teaching might not work for you. This is another instance where you might want to search for a new coach.

What if a club/coach seems to support other fencers more than your own child? The better the coach, the more limited his/her time is. I hate to say it, but sometimes a coach has to focus more on the students who are showing aptitude for the sport more than their peers. The club I belong to is full of Junior Olympic Champions, former national team members, Division I points holders, etc. I recently asked my coach if I could have an additional lesson every week, and he said no due to lack of time. I understood though, because given the talent in our club, I was at the bottom of the pecking order and his time was better spent with the fencers who were better than I. If I want more lessons, I need to prove I’m worth his time.

What if a club does not have a critical mass of youth fencers in your child’s preferred weapon type? Then showing up at that club is time wasted. Most clubs will have one, no more than two weapons they focus on (with the exception of the NY clubs). Bouting time is equally important to lesson time, footwork time. If they’re not able to bout a lot of people who fence their weapon, they’re not getting the needed practice experience.

What if a favorite coach who worked at the club has retired or left? If they’re your favorite coach, follow them! I think my loyalty to DC Fencers Club is more with my coach I have worked with on and off since I was eight years old than it is to the club itself. But I guess he defined the club experience, so they go hand in hand.

What if something said or done by a coach simply rubs you the wrong way? It depends on the circumstances. Is the coach doling out emotional abuse? Or is the coach giving tough love? There is a big difference. Mudslinging names at a student, physical abuse with the student (hitting them in the legs with the blade for messing up), these are cases of emotional abuse. Telling a student they’re lazy, they’re not working hard enough, they’re not reaching their potential, etc., this is tough love, and acceptable. Tough love is supposed to rub you the wrong way. If you pat a student on the back for everything they do, it’s teaching the wrong lesson and not encouraging commitment to improving the craft.

What if the club is simply a bad “fit” for your child or family (including for logistical reasons…proximity/schedule/etc.) I drove four and a half hours and slept in my car to work with Mario Jelev down in Boca Raton. He was a good fit as a coach, as a person. Logistically, it sucked. So, depends on how much that relationship with the coach is worth to you. Sleeping in my car and driving a total nine hours was certainly worth it to me. But, I understand as a parent, which I am not (thank God) it might be more difficult.

What if a “star” coach approaches you at a tournament and expresses an interest in working with your child? When I was growing up in Florida, I would go to every tournament and get my butt kicked by Alek Gromov and his Florida Musketeers Club (he once hit me with a toe touch so hard it put a hole in my shoe.). He approached me and asked me if I wanted to work with him. Again, going back to the theme of “has the fencer outgrown the skill-set given?” The answer in this case was yes. So, I worked with Gromov because I saw that he was teaching something that was knocking me on my butt. Lo and behold, after six months with him I started getting junior points and such.

If a family is going to switch clubs/coaches, what is a good time to do so?  No time like the present? At least a month before a big tournament?  After Summer Nationals? For the sake of where we’re at right now in the season, I’d say wait til after Summer Nationals. When it’s time to leave your current coach, maintain a friendly relationship. They have served your child well (in theory) and deserve nothing but your continued admiration and respect for the time and energy they have put into your child.

If you’ve made your mind up to leave a club, what’s the best way to do it?  To request a meeting with the coach/owner/club manager? To send an email/write a letter? To just slink away quietly, stop showing up, paying dues? Well, you don’t break up with a girlfriend via email, you don’t give them the silent treatment to end things, and you sure as heck don’t do it via text! Same deal with a coach. This is a conversation that can really hurt, but you owe them the respect to sit down and have the conversation face to face. It really is like a breakup in a lot of ways. Some breakups can go well and become friendships; others can result in the two parties never speaking again. I wish you the former.

How much should one disclose about your reasons for leaving?  On the one hand, if the issues are bothering you affect other students, it might be wise to share them.  On the other, if your issues are more “I just don’t like the way you treat my child/family.” Then perhaps it’s best to leave well enough alone. I think it’s perfectly legitimate to say “I don’t like how you treat my kid” if that is the case. They might learn from that and change behavior in the future, they might not. Us coaches are stubborn people, so it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks.

When the inevitable questions come from other parents about the reasons for your departure, how much should you share?  I would think a simple “We just decided that Club X would be better for our family.” But you know who people are…inquiring minds want to know! Don’t talk smack!!! Just move on and move out. Unless you think the coach is up to something criminal, then let the other families decide for themselves.

Nathan Bailey, a DC Fencers club member asked me the following questions for his Communications class. I responded:

As a fencing coach, what troubles do you have with communication? Every student you work with has a different modus operandi; thus, the way you approach each student cannot be done with a “one size fits all” solution. Learning how to speak to each one, how to motivate them, this is the greatest challenge.

Why do you have these troubles? The coach-student relationship is very similar to that of a parent-child. A younger aged fencer has one mindset when they begin, but as they mature and grow as a person, their mental approach to life/fencing evolves as well. It’s hard to understand how they change when I have one image in my mind of who they are, and next thing I know they’re adolescents with a completely different head on their shoulders. Time flies, and sometimes it’s hard to gauge where a student is at in their life.

Have you seen other coaches have trouble with communication? Absolutely. Communication is such a large part of coaching, whether you’re trying to correct something or strip coach. Our sport has a large European influence, so one communication issue is the language barrier that can often exist between student and coach. Even American coaches have communication issues. How do you properly correct an action? How do you give tough love to your student and tell them that behavior on the strip or off the strip must change? When have you corrected too much in a lesson, taking away valuable time from showing new actions? These are a few communication issues coaches have, myself included.

When do you find it is the hardest to communicate with your fencers? Sometimes I want to kick teenagers in the balls. That’s the hardest age to coach, because a lot of teenagers can be very “me-centric.” They like to circumvent basic mechanics for the sake of learning fancy, flashy stuff, like flicks, toe touches, etc. It can be hard to just get them to settle down and fence.

Do you change the way you communicate (e.g. speak up in a loud room) to the fencers? I guess. I have one student who’s hard of hearing. It all depends on who you work with.

In your opinion, how much importance does communication have when you are coaching? It’s everything. You can’t be a good coach if you can’t communicate with your student, and you can’t be a good student if you can’t communicate with your coach.

How can communication between coach and fencer to go awry? Sometimes fencers can think correction/feedback is a personal attack on them. Especially teenagers. If the coach is providing feedback correctly, it will be done so in a manner that the student believes is given for their own betterment, not to berate them.

For me, good communication between my coach and myself is a very important thing, especially in competition.  How do you try to effectively communicate with a fencer while they are fencing?  Some fencers like to be spoken to while they’re fencing, simple terms like  “Move your feet more, keep better distance, smaller point,” etc. Others like their coaches to remain silent unless it’s between touches. For me, everything is about that one minute break in between periods. You want to get in, provide a quick 15 second snapshot of what’s happening in the bout, not over inundate with information, and get out. You want to give the fencer time to internalize what you’ve said. This is good tournament communication.

What have you seen in other coaches that does not work at competitions? Being excessively Russian and screaming in a student’s face following a loss. Yeah, that never works.

Many people find that having foreign coaches can be difficult because they cannot understand them.  Despite being American, have you ever experienced this as a coach? My first coach in Tampa, a Bulgarian gentleman spoke about 20 words of English when he arrived in the US. He would say things like “Batman,” which means “beat” in Bulgarian. I was like “Why is he referencing a super hero in our lesson?” It was a learning process, but he is/was a great coach so you learn to communicate, it just takes longer because of the language barrier sometimes.

How do you think this impacts the fencer? Initially, there’s confusion. You learn to communicate. My parents used to joke with me because I ultimately learned to communicate with him in broken English!

What do you think a coach with this problem should do to help themselves and their students? Goes both ways. A coach can learn the language, a student can learn what the coach is trying to say to them. The onus to communicate falls on both fencer and student.

When you went to the Olympics, what differences did you notice in other countries communication? It’s more or less the same in some way shape or form, and very successful. As I said before, communication is an important input to producing an Olympic level athlete. You don’t get a student to the Olympics unless communication is a forte. So, all the coaches there had done something right, just using their own unique avenue to help their student/s get there.

Photo credit: Ting-Shen.com

Akira Kurosawa’s masterpiece film Rashomon tells the story of four people who pay witness to the same crime—the murder of a Samurai. Rashomon’s story is told via trial, with testimonies provided by a priest, a woodcutter, a bandit, and the samurai’s wife. Each witness provides his/her account of the crime, giving drastically different but equally conceivable accounts of how the Samurai’s life ended. Rashomon is not so much a “whodunit” film, rather, a poignant study of the incongruences in testimony of witnesses to a controversial event, and the subjectivity of the lenses through which we bear witness to events in our lives.

On March 10, 2013, former NCAA first team All-American and reigning Ivy League champion Alen Hadzic was black carded from the northeast regional qualifying event, immediately ending his season and dashing any hopes he had of winning his first NCAA individual title. The story of Alen Hadzic is hardly as absolute as one might be led to believe given the negative stigma associated with receiving a black card. No testimonial of the black card was the same—whether it was from the lens of the coaches, referees, Alen’s opponent, or Alen himself. Alen’s story is, in short NCAA fencing’s version of Rashomon, a tale where each player in the event passionately and convincingly tells his/her side of the truth to paint a picture that leaves more questions about the event than answers.

Alen’s absence from the 2013 championships has left the fencing world asking “what if?” in debating the impact he would have had. In what began as a promising season built on momentum from his 2012 NCAA finish, a vigorous off season to ready himself for the next season, and an ivy league championship win, Alen’s 2013 season came to a screeching halt with the awarding of a black card.

This is, to quote the anonymous author of “Shin A Lam and the Infinite Sadness” “…an attempt to provide a complete explanation of what actually occurred, why it happened, and what should have happened.”

I. 2012 NCAAs

Alen Hadzic’s final victory of his sophomore season at Columbia University highlighted one of the greatest comebacks in NCAA fencing history.

It was March 2012 at the NCAA championships in Columbus, Ohio. Hadzic had been selected as one of the four finalists after posting a dominant 17-6 record in preliminary matches. To get into the finals match, Hadzic had to clear Ohio State’s Kristian Boyadzhiev, an established Bulgarian fencer who had narrowly finished behind Hadzic with 16 victories. As the match began, Boyadzhiev had an immediate grasp on Hadzic’s tactics.

Hadzic, on seemingly every touch began to push Boyadzhiev aggressively. Whenever he launched an attack, Boyadzhiev was ready, awaiting him with well-timed defense to take a decisive 12-7 lead.

In epee fencing, fencers have the luxury of using a tactic known as a double-touch, which means if both fencers hit each other within one twenty-fifth of a second, the touch counts for both. In a scenario like Boyadzhiev’s in which he was three touches away from victory, it’s often the most commonly used tactic to safely close out a bout when leading.

As the ref ordered Hadzic and Boyadzhiev, to get en garde, Hadzic walked away with his mask off, quietly contemplating his approach to regain his deficit.

And that was the moment the tables began to turn. Hadzic began to press his point around Boyadzhiev’s hand. Boyadzhiev lunged to be hit by Hadzic before he could fully extend into his attack. 12-8.

Small pushing and Hadzic let out an explosive running attack direct into Boyadzhiev’s body. 12-9. Alen removed his mask to plot his next move, emotionless in his face, but clearly on the war path believing his defeat was not imminent.

If Fencing was a main stream sport, Hadzic’s next touch would have been worthy of an ESPN highlight reel. Boyadzhiev responded with a fleche of his own, only to be met by Hadzic’s blade who scooped up Boyadzhiev’s attack and flicked him over the back. 12-10.

Boyadzhiev, who had remained in control, looked over to his coach’s corner searching for answers as Alen returned to his en garde line poised and ready to continue his rally. Hadzic put pressure around Boyadzhiev’s hand and Boyadzhiev responded with a desperately rushed lunge as a Hail Mary to turn the tide, only to be met with Hadzic’s point. 12-11.

Hadzic walked away from the line once again, this time screaming at the top of his lungs to get fired up to continue his rally. With great precision, he caught Boyadzhiev moving forward and stopped him dead in his tracks with a running attack to tie the score at 12-12. Five unanswered touches.

By this point, the score indicated the bout wasn’t over, but both Hadzic and Boyadzhiev’s body language indicated otherwise. Two more unanswered touches to take a 14-12 lead, and Alen let out a smirk, pleased with his unprecedented comeback. One final touch, and Hadzic dropped to his knees, capping off an 8-1 rally to make his first NCAA gold medal match.

Hadzic would go on to lose firmly to three-time first team all-American Jonathan Yergler, but with his victory over Boyadzhiev, he planted the seeds for high expectations for the remainder of his NCAA career and ascended to the forefront of NCAA fencing.

II. 2013 Season

Alen’s conquest for his first NCAA individual title fell short, but with his 2^nd place finish, he was still crowned an NCAA first team All-American. Determined to get to the next level and win an individual title, Alen upped his training to five days a week, practicing three and a half hours each day and spending needed time in the gym to build strength and agility.

The fruits of Alen’s labor paid off, and his results in his junior season began to show noticeable difference. Yergler, Kelley, and Badger, who had beaten Alen at the 2012 Ivy League Championships all suffered defeats to Alen this time around. Alen, had gone 22-10 in dual meets before Ivy League championships this year and would go on to win the 2013 championships (tying Princeton’s Ed Kelley) in one of the toughest epee fields the Ivy League had ever seen, finishing with a 12-3 record. “He was fencing the best I have ever seen him fencing. An individual title was definitely a feasible goal for him” said Columbia head coach Michael Aufrichtig. The story of Alen Hadzic is a question of “what if?” As Alen came off a strong win at Ivy League Championships and had a wealth of momentum heading into the northeast regional qualifier for nationals. Unfortunately, his season would come to an untimely end the next weekend.

III. The Card

Sunday, March 10 was Alen’s final hurdle to qualify for NCAA nationals—the Northeast regional. Alen seeded 3^rd, only behind teammate Brian Ro and St. John’s Adam Watson, making his path to the national championship a fairly easy one. In his first round of pools, months of training, dual meets, and time spent in the gym was erased by a confrontational utterance in the heat of emotion.

In his third bout of pools, Alen squared off against Vassar College senior Tavish Pegram. Alen plugged in, only to realize his light wasn’t going off when he tested his body chord. To make sure it was his own equipment failing and not a strip or reel malfunction, Alen took some extra time to test his gear. The presiding referee (I will reference the official as the referee to respect their privacy and because they declined to partake in an interview) lost patience and told Alen he would “be much happier if Alen took the yellow card and stopped delaying the bout.”

The bout began slowly, as neither athlete had fenced this season and both wanted to feel each other’s tempo.

At 2-2, Alen initiated a running attack on Pegram, a fencer known for his strong blade work and defense, and was met by a parry-riposte to go down 3-2.

Once again, Alen sensing an opening in Pegram attempted a running attack and was met with the same action to go down 4-2. What happened in the next few minutes would change the 2013 Men’s Epee NCAA championship.

“God damn it!” yelled Alen as he was running by. The referee pulled out a red card, giving Pegram the final touch of the bout to win 5-2.

“I wouldn’t have made that call, because yelling ‘God damn it’ is much milder than other things people have said. I’ve heard fencers shout directly at their opponents and get no card. Alen was not yelling at me or the ref,” Pegram would later say. “Alen was obviously frustrated, as anyone would be. He lost on a red card that very few people would have given. When he was unhooking he dropped his mask a little harder than I would have liked so I went up to the ref and asked him not to black card him. He told me not to worry.”

Alen, frustrated with the outcome of the bout proceeded to walk over to the referee “…while not being overly aggressive” Pegram said, though he noted that Alen “was definitely being a bit difficult.” Pegram’s mild explanation of the card greatly contrasted Charles Greene’s account, who was refereeing on the adjacent strip: “Alen was no more than five, six inches from [the referee's] face,” Greene said. “I stopped my bout because I felt Alen could have put his hands on [the referee] and I wanted to be ready to intervene in case that were to happen.”

Alen pleaded with the referee to provide an explanation for why he wasn’t given a warning for his language before given a card. The referee’s response was simple: “You shouldn’t have said that,” he said. The referee, who Greene said was “cool as a cucumber throughout the confrontation” would hear no more and provide no further explanation, increasing Alen’s frustration.

“How could you end the bout on a card like that, man?” Alen asked the referee.

“I didn’t say ‘god damn it’ to anyone. You’re fucking up the whole pool.” Charles Greene noted that he also heard Alen proclaim “Don’t you know I’m trying to win a championship,” which Greene said was the equivalent of the classic “Don’t you know who I am?” move.  Alen stormed off angrily, walking to his end of the strip to unplug.

“Alen,” the referee said.

Alen turned to face the referee and was shocked to see what was held in his outstretched hand: a black card.

In fencing, a black card is the most severe form of punishment an official can levy on an athlete, reserved only for the gravest offenses. When received, a fencer is marked on the results as “fencer excluded,” expunging any record or trace of his involvement in a tournament. Unless a fencer demonstrates an unruly physical outburst, such as the spiking of his mask, referees will offer stern warnings to fencers to cease their bawdiness if the fencer berates the official. According to multiple sources present at Hadzic’s carding, no such warnings were issued.

Greene’s assessment of Alen’s behavior in the wake of the black card was in short, damning. “What I witnessed, what I saw, if they had rescinded the black card, I was prepared to give him one myself. Alen walked in the middle of a bout I was refereeing on the adjacent strip. In between me and the two active fencers. I feel sorry for his season ending this way, but he was out of control. The black card to me was cut and dry. He was blinded with rage and in his own little world,” Greene said.

After seeing the black card, Alen approached the referee and apologized for his transgressions and asked the referee to reconsider. Pegram approached Alen, offering to speak on his behalf too. The decision had been made and the referee was unwilling to change his mind.

Alen and Michael Aufrichtig made an appeal to the bout committee, comprised of Tom Vrabel (Head Coach of Sacred Heart), Syd Fadner (Head Coach of Boston College), Sharron Everson (Head Referee), Barb Bolich (MIT Assistant Athletic Director). The committee convened and quickly upheld the referee’s decision.

Sacred Heart had two competitors on the fringe of capturing one of the qualifying spots, a point which raises questions regarding the membership and objectivity of the appeals committee. “Although I do not believe any coach would do anything wrong,” Columbia coach Michael Aufrichtig said, “I would have hoped that the bout committee was made of no college coaches to be fair. The National Committee serves in that capacity with the Chief Referee at the final round of the NCAA Championships and is also made up of coaches and administrators from other NCAA schools, just as the regional committee is. It is a little strange to me too, but that’s the way it is.”

Alen spent a minimum of 18 hours per week training, and had fenced 41 bouts this season to reach this point. In a matter of seconds, in bellowing the words “damn” and “fuck,” his season ended, erasing any hope he had of winning an individual title.

IV. Alen’s Impact on the 2013 Championships

It’s difficult to measure what Alen’s impact would have been had he competed in the NCAA championships, as fencing (particularly epee) is a sport in which results are wildly unpredictable, and one victory on a hot day could result in a defeat the next.

Alen fenced 16 out of 21 of the opponents he would have been eligible to fence at NCAAs this season. Five of his opponents came from west coast schools; thus, Alen did not square off against them this season. Of the remaining 16, Alen went an impressive 13-5, leaving the question of “what if?” Alen had gone 1-1 against NCAA champion Marco Canevari, a decisive 5-1 victory over NCAA runner-up Jonathan Yergler, and achieved victories over the third place winners as well.

Well, what if? The same question rests on Alen’s mind. When I asked him how he felt sitting on the sidelines knowing how he could be out there, Alen became introspective: “Fencing is a huge part of my life, so this is not an easy question for me…I trained relentlessly for NCAA championships the entire year. There are huge sacrifices in time and social life. It’s also extremely challenging to balance fencing with the demands from school. It is like training for a marathon for an entire year to be told that you have been disqualified for disagreeing on something.”

Alen has one final season of eligibility. He will be a senior at Columbia next year. His goals are simple and direct: “academics, and to prepare for the next NCAA championship.”

V. Conclusion

Photo credit: Columbia University Athletics/Gene Boyars

Alen Hadzic holds no ill will towards the referee, who he described as “…fair to me in previous bouts. I always had a great degree of respect for him as a referee.” Alen’s disdain, he says, is in the system that failed to open its ears to his appeals case that was decided in haste:

“It is often said that an athlete’s education is the primary focus of college fencing – to balance fencing and academics and to provide an environment which helps foster development and life skills that a student-athlete can use throughout their life.

If this is indeed the case, then what went on at the regional qualifiers at St. John’s this year was not in the spirit of the NCAA’s goal of enhancing athletes not only on the piste, but in building their character as well. I was not offered advice or guidance on the strip that day, but the harshest punishment without a consideration, warning or opportunity to amend my behavior.

I feel that I, my teammates, my coaches and Columbia University athletics program have all been robbed of an opportunity to bring back an NCAA medal. In hindsight, I feel like I was judged very unfairly. The pressure of the competition was immense, and my protest may have been emotionally charged as a result of that pressure. As such, I could have benefited so much more from an experienced referee’s or committee’s advice, than by being outright ousted for something that by all spectators was deemed to be a disproportionately harsh punishment.

What I also learned that day is that a fencer is not fencing the opponent only, but also the referee, as they can be emotionally charged as well. I firmly believe that what went on that day can and should be used as a case study to help make refereeing and the committee’s decision making at collegiate fencing more in the spirit of collegiate athletics through focused seminars on refereeing.”

I spoke to one US Fencing referee about the incident that chose to remain anonymous: “As referees, we are subject to the same emotional ebbs and flows as fencers. Even the best referees like (the referee) can have off days where tolerance for unruliness is shorter and cards might fly a little more freely. Fencers have off days. We can too.” When I asked the referee to provide a statement, he simply replied “I have not and do not plan on discussing any call that I have made in a public forum.”

The appeal to the bout committee raises questions too: would the outcome of the appeal been any different had the committee comprised of members who didn’t have a stake in the outcome of Alen’s black card? It’s hard to say, but Aufrichtig questions just how much the committee listened: “I feel if it was listened to fairly, the committee would have taken into consideration the severity of his actions. If Alen had done something physical or detrimental to the referee, then 100% he should have been kicked out of the competition, but he used a bad word when telling the referee he was messing up his call. This should not in my opinion be a black card but more of a Group III red card warning, giving Alen a chance to cool down and then decide his own fate either by his fencing or the way he used his words for the rest of the competition.”

This past weekend, I fenced a pool bout in which my opponent told me to “shut the hell up, it’s a fucking pool bout, man” after I let out a yell for celebrating a touch. The referee pulled out a group 3 red card, told the fencer that if such behavior was repeated that day, he would receive a black card. The man took the warning to heart and remained non-confrontational with his opponents for the rest of the day. His behavior was rude, uncouth, and against the chivalrous nature of fencing, but he learned his lesson, and life went on.

A shortened version of this will appear in next week’s Washington Times.

Anonymous: Dear Damien, alright, so I have a very solid foilist very solid, and he wants to be Captain for his squad. Normally this would be no problem, but as it stands, he’s too emotionally immature and vindictive to make an effective Captain. Today he lashed out at one of our future prospects because he feels like he’s not being respected. But in all honesty, he hasn’t earned any respect, he rarely practices, never does drills, and bails on conditioning. The real reason we need him is because we have no one else with enough experience to run an efficient squad but at the same time his personality is just not conducive to keeping a squad together or attracting new members. In short he’s a terrible leader, good fencer. Do you have any suggestions? Getting past his ego is probably the number 1 problem but I have no idea how I’d go about doing that. I’m the armorer for the club, I make the equipment and fencers work, and this is one of those things that I don’t necessarily know how to fix.

Damien: Here’s a fix: boot his ass from the team and don’t think twice about it. I was once on a team where one of our starting foilists was kicked off for going AWOL from practice for a month and missing the bus for a critical meet. I understand that you have a need for him given that you say he’s “very solid,” but take a step back and realize that even with his talent you mentioned, he is more of a detriment to the team.

That’s a wrap! Our women’s champions are crowned. Here are my annotated thoughts, with more of a full writeup for the Washington Times this week:

Women’s Epee

• It’s the small things, but you have to love how Margherita Guzzi Vincenti smiles before she begins fencing. She looks very happy to be out there. But when the mask comes on, stone cold killer.
• Best bout of the entire NCAA tournament goes to Guzzi Vincenti against Courtney Hurley in the semi-final. Vincenti, down 13-10 brought it back to 14-14, and Courtney Hurley got the final touch to advance to the finals. Hurley is no stranger to being clutch in the final touch (hey, that rhymes). You might remember her overtime touch against Russia to earn the U.S.A. an Olympic bronze.
• So Hurley and Nelip graduate, but Ashley Severson is on deck. Expect her in the finals next year. Lots of depth at Notre Dame.
• Courtney Hurley makes funny noises when she misses.
• Vivian Kong. Freshman. Something tells me she’s going to be a beast for years to come. One more year out of Francesca Bassa as well. Stanford has some darn good epee. Kong kept it tight in her semi-final match with Scanlan, but Scanlan pulled away in the final five touches to win decisively at 15-10.
• The Scanlan-Hurley final…I was expecting a close bout. Seemed that Hurley had a simple plan to hold her ground, wait for Scanlan’s attack and do a simple disengage to hit her in preparation. It worked. 15-6.

Women’s Foil

• Lee Kiefer won. Duh. What’s scary is she’s a freshman. Four NCAA championships are very possible for her. The only people who will stand in her way are Nzingha Prescod and Margaret Lu.
• Kiefer vs. Dubrovich final. Referee calls non-combativity with 19 seconds remaining in the period. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What’s worse is he gave the COMPLETELY incorrect explanation saying “There was no blade contact for 30 seconds.” The rule says 15 seconds. First of all, if you’re going to enforce the rule, know what it says. Secondly, don’t enforce it with 19 frickin’ seconds left. I’ve said time and time again the USFA/FIE needs to issue a clear directive on non-combativity. It is subjectively enforced, and if you ask 10 referees how they interpret it, each will give you a different answer.
• Notre Dame’s Madison Zeiss also came away with a bronze. Only a sophomore. Can you imagine women’s foil dual meets next year between Notre Dame and Columbia? That’s pay-per-view stuff right there.
• Dubrovich took home a silver. First time I’ve watched her. Loved fluidity of her footwork, the length of her attacks, and the pure strength she shows with her blade. Damn good athlete.
• So, Mona Shaito’s an Olympian from Lebanon, but she uses a permanent marker to draw her name on her lamé? Got it.

Women’s Sabre

• Eliza Stone. Man! Down 9-4 against St. John’s Anna Limbach, and comes back to win 15-10. Between that and the Massialas-Meinhardt bout, there were some impressive comebacks at NCAA’s. Coaches now have two specific videos to point to to show that any score deficit is possible to come back from.
• Eliza Stone’s post-victory interview. Take a deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep breath.
• Eliza’s sister Gracie lost to Limbach in the semi’s. Super impressive that both the sisters made the top 4. Like I said yesterday though, I’m onto them. Ra’s Al Ghul. League of Shadows. Think about it.

More in the Washington Times this week.