Fifty percent of the game is 90% Mental.
        I’m not sure but I think that’s a quote from Yogi Berra, one of baseball’s most quoted figures.  At first glance, it seems like the
math is desperately off.  However, if you look closer you’ll see the
statement divides “The Game” and then subdivides it.  Assuming that my math is correct (and feel free to check it)  90% of 50 is 45.  Since we’re working in blocks of 100, 90% of 50% (or half) is 45%.  Stating that 45% of the game is mental is mathematically correct but nowhere near as entertaining.  That sort of figure just doesn’t stick in your mind as well either.
        So what’s the point?  Clearly, 45% is a significant percentage.  Certainly, it’s less than half but who wants to play only 65% as well as you know you can?  Who wants to watch the first 65% of a movie?  I don’t, and I’ll bet you don’t either.  Ergo, the point is to develop your fencer’s mind to the best of your ability and capitalize on that bonus 45%.
        Why “bonus?”  Because the fencer’s mind is the great equalizer; the ultimate athletic wildcard that the wise cultivate and use to complement their physical abilities rather than merely fence by the  numbers.
        I know, that sounds all well and good, but how does one develop this ‘fencer’s mind’ exactly?  I’m certain you’ve heard some variant of “ask ten artists what’s art and get 12 opinions?”  It’s pretty much the same thing here in fencing.  Everyone adds their own specific flair, but in general you learn to look at your opponent and see how they do things:

• What does their footwork look like?  Do they appear coordinated or clumsy?
  

• Are there flaws in their lunge (technical or tempo-based)?  Are they too close, too far away, do they put too much weight onto the front leg?
  

• Is their blade work crisp or sloppy?  Fast or slow?
  

• How’s their sense of timing and distance?  Do they launch attacks that are not appropriate for the distance you’re at?  Are you able to control the distance by forcing them to retreat when you want?
  

• How do they react when attacked?  Flail their blade, counterattack or parry-riposte?
  

• Do THEY attack?
  

• What do they tend to do when they attack?
  

What can YOU do to exploit this information?

Yes, I know.  I just threw a lot of questions at you that look damn
hard to answer.  Which do you think is the hardest to answer?  At first glance, I’ll bet it’s the “what can I do to exploit this information” question.  However, before you give it up as lost stop and think a moment.  If someone has a wide parry that’s slow, shouldn’t you attack quickly?  Or, from another perspective, what’s stopping you from attacking quickly?
        Now, granted, everyone comes into this sport with certain
expectations.  I’m not saying that any particular set of expectations
are “better” or “worse.”  They just are.  Being that everyone has
expectations don’t you think it wise to know what yours are?  After all, your opponent is going to do their damnedest to figure yours out and use them against you.
        Oh, another thing – Don’t fool yourself into thinking that you
establish some kind of moral high ground by choosing to ignore the opportunity to gain knowledge of yourself and your opponent.  That, though, is a rant for another time.
        Anyway, I am not going to beat y’all over the head with a list of famous (mostly dead) military strategists and martial artists who’ve espoused some variant on ‘know thy enemy.’  Should you wish that list, though, just ask me sometime.
        Getting back on topic, once you understand your personal expectations – by which I also mean how you expect yourself to act as well as your desired outcomes – you will have a significantly better ability to improve as a fencer and defeat your opponent.
        How does understanding yourself – which does sound all touchy-feely – have anything to do with beating someone on the fencing strip?  Put simply, it gives you the ability to analyze and adapt.  Not only to adapt, but to adapt quickly.  If you notice that your opponent has scored three touches by taking advantage of your faulty guard, sloppy parry, or some other thing and you stop whatever you’re doing you’ve taken away their ability to use that against you.  Furthermore, you could use the appearance of doing that thing to set them up for a second intention attack (like deliberately opening a line, then hitting them on a parry-riposte), thus forcing them to figure out what you’ve done on the fly.
        There’s a damn good reason fencing is called Physical Chess (and no, I am not endorsing the company of the same name).  It is!  If you can’t out-think your opponent you’re in big trouble.
        “Okay, fine,” you say.  “But I just went to a tournament and got my ass kicked.  What good is thinking going to do me against someone who just charges like a mad bull?”
        Glad you asked.  Saber fencing, for example, has gotten pretty damn brutal the past few years and the style’s gone out the window.  It’s little more than people flailing at each other with steel whips (sound kinda familiar?) The parry is all but impossible to use without suffering whipover, people are cutting from the elbow and everyone’s gone insane.  What’s a fencer to do?
        Learn the “new” way of doing things.  Study it.  Pick it apart to its constituent pieces, then exploit the hell out of it.  For example, modern saber is a one-hit wonder.  If that first attack is slow (your foot lands before your blade) or misses, you are utterly SOL.  Stop hits and distance parries into tempo and countertime become the keys to success because the Devil of saber fencing is the whipover.  That is also a rant for another time.
        One of the most common mental fencing hang-ups goes by the name of “preconceived notion.”  Another word for it is “expectation,” which should sound familiar.  Not to worry, though.  A delusion is just an expectation that couldn’t adapt to fit reality, reality in this case being the feedback garnered from direct experience.
        The trouble with preconceived notions, quite simply, is that they take that 45% mental bonus and flay it into a penalty.  In particular, words like “should,” “could,” and “would” conjure forth all the demons that plague us; most notably self-doubt, anger, and the fear of failure.
        Certainly the argument that these things can be used to drive (AKA motivate) oneself towards success, skill improvement, or whatever can be made.  Hell, it may even have merit for some people.  However, ponder this:  Why use them at all?  Why emotionally flay yourself when you can instead enjoy the experience for what it is:  learning something new, improving your skill, and deriving nuance from the situation?
        For example, at practice on 10/31/2004 I learned something totally new.  One of the fencers had expressed a problem with fencing lefties, and I’d been thinking about it, as well as analyzing what I’d seen lefties to against me.  I put myself in the frame of mind of a lefty – scary, I know, as anyone who’s ever seen me fencing left handed will attest – and started converting my usual actions over to the ‘other side.’  It was then, like the proverbial lightning bolt from the sky, that it occurred to me.  I tested this theory on several other fencers and had it confirmed:  The most common beat a lefty uses, in any weapon, goes from outside to inside, or (relative to the fencer executing the action) left to right.  It’s of adequate usefulness against another lefty, but when you fence a righty, there’s an important physiological difference:  A righty’s right arm is in a perfect position to follow that lefty beat with a startling lack of resistance.  Why?  Hold your right arm the way you would if you were on guard.  Without moving your upper arm (IE nothing above the elbow), touch your stomach.  Easy, huh?  Now, bring your forearm back to the original starting position.  Move your forearm the other way, as far away from your stomach as possible without moving your upper arm.  That’s a bit harder, I’d imagine.
        Don’t worry, you righties can do the same thing to the lefties out there.  However, here I am with some 16 years of experience and blah blah, and I just learned something totally new that had I known sooner, could have had a huge effect on my competitive fencing.  It would be a simple matter for me to kick myself and call me all kinds of stupid, but where would the point be in that?  Would that self-flagellation change anything that’s already past?  Hell no – so why waste my time with it?
        Instead, as those of you who were there saw, I was (and still am) rather excited about this new development.  As well as learning
something new about me (and something to watch out for with lefties), I have a new use for a beat I never really took seriously – and now, so do you.  That’s pretty cool, if you ask me.
        A complete exploration of the concept of preconceived notions and expectations goes beyond the scope of this particular edition of Coachly Thoughts.  That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t think it over and apply it to your own fencing.  In fencing, your mind can be your best friend or your worst enemy.  As with your body, you need to train your mental reflexes to help you, not get in your way.  With time and diligence, you will be able to coordinate your mind and body to be quite successful in fencing.  And who knows, maybe you’ll be able to apply that diligence and confidence elsewhere!