Las Vegas, Nevada
Sunday - The hustle and bustle about the Westgate Convention Center creates a steady hum. The energy is infectious, even after a rushed flight to McCarran International Airport. Late into the night athletes, coaches, and parents are practicing in the common area while the finishing touches are put into place in the competition area.
Monday - The opening of the 2018 US Open is much like other large events, there are speakers, there are words of encouragement and pride, but the vibe, the anticipation is unlike any other. Today is primarily poomsae competition. Senior II is called to holding around 9am, we are to compete at 945am, then 10am. We stretch and prepare, laughing as we watch other competitors warm up for the freestyle competition ("Can you believe this? Those guys are doing backflips! There is not enough coffee. *haha*"), kids bounce about unable to focus despite their best efforts, and we watch as these groups filter through holding, out into the rings, Team and Pairs, Freestyle, and so on. 10am comes and goes, we are informed we will compete at 11am. We continue practicing, helping each other, getting input from other coaches, and then we find out that our competition format will be different than expected. We all joke about it and seek out the magical, informative paper. Different poomsae is no problems except none of had prepared for that. We have learned to go with the flow in Taekwondo competition because it never goes quite as planned. Over the speaker we hear our division called and we hop to our feet, but no, he meant to say males, not females, so back to practice we go. Finally, it is after 11am and we are called to the raised, center stage ("We are competing on THAT!?"). We watch as the pairs competition finishes. Their precision and synchronization is inspiring. The winners are declared and now it is our turn. All of us start jogging in place, seeking out unused space to stretch and cram in everything. We glance over and notice all of the judges are gone.....like, gone. What is this about? It is nearly noon. Ah, they are off to lunch. I am receiving only slightly delayed updates which now informs us that Senior II (us) has been called to the center ring and Senior I must wait until after 1pm to compete, we all wonder aloud what that means for our group. My phone is passed among the huddle and to some coaches. We accept our fate with minimal grumbling. 1pm comes and goes. We are taking turns running to the bathroom and getting snacks, as a group we are keeping each other pumped up, joking "This is all part of the competition. Whoever manages to stay warmed up, awake, and doesn't miss the whole thing running to pee will go to semi-finals. It is a much more efficient way to widdle down the competition." I look at Charolette from Denmark. She has been practicing and focusing all day with 100% dedication, she is here to win. The difference between her and most of us is apparent to me.
Finally, the judges return. We are lined up for a visual inspection of our hair and nails. *Remember, we are not to be flashy. Nails are trimmed and free of color or are French manicured.* The judges announce they have changed the format. There is now a buzz from the grumbling. One coach raises his disapproval. The scene is laughable. Another coach learns of the change and goes to raise his objection. About 20 minutes later another meeting commences to discuss revering. More changes, more time bouncing about, shaking off the building nerves. A young man who has already competed comes to check in with his teammate. They are from a university on the east coast. He gets her pumped up and overhears Allison's and my conversation about what on earth is going on and steps in to explain some of the more confusing aspects of this competition and what to expect and some pro, insider tips. His help is so appreciated. Somewhere in this time I learn our ring is being live streamed. How exiting for friends, family, and fans to watch this!? I alert my family. They are thrilled. The nervousness becomes palpable.
Now, we compete. I watch with awe as these amazing women from across the country and globe step up with grace and focus and perform with such impressive strength. The change from progressing the top scorers to it being bracketed is so disappointing to me. I see such amazing women lose the change to progress despite their high scores because of this single elimination system. A friend, Allison, steps up to compete and is so strong. Her husband and her whole team comes and cheers loudly for her and welcome with such fervor even though she was eliminated. We discuss what happened and watch the video I took of her and try to find obvious fault. We continue to ponder. Then our attention is brought back to full focus as Charolette from Denmark steps up. Her poise is perfection. Her performance is phenomenal. She or Kathy will win this, they are clearly the best here. And then, my soul wrenches as she loses. Her competitor was good, she has always been good, but the difference between her performance and Charolette's to all of us watching (those well versed in poomsae and new spectators) is clear, cut and dry. Charolette accepts with grace and steps down. Family and friends text about their shock and sympathize with me as all day I have mused on Denmark's superior preparation. My mind is still reeling from this turn of events when I go up. I am competing against Aruba. She is good but I believe I am better. Yet, as many times before, the most subtle of moves must have been picked out, and I lose. We all are confused. I am baffled but not upset. The superior competitor had fallen, how could I be upset about my own loss when that injustice had so recently occurred? I continue to reflect on the turn of events.
Through most of the afternoon my friend Jon has been watching, getting us snacks, discussing and learning about this sport. He offers his outsider view and I appreciate his input through the whole competition. It feels more objective coming from someone who is not closely tied to sport. He represents a group I want to reach. I want the public to be intrigued. People who have known me since childhood have only recently learned of this sport and my place in it, which is mind blowing to me because I have spent so much of my life entrenched in it. This group should know and have respect for these athletes. I am so happy to have a friend here to watch. I am so happy to have someone to support me and to discuss and decompress with now.
As the round finishes a wheelchair catches my eye. A young woman wheels the man out to the center of an adjacent ring. He pulls himself down to the mat. He bows and begins his pattern. This is like nothing I have ever seen. I have watched para-taekwondo, but it occurs to me I have only seen the board breaking and the fighting. I have never witnessed the poomsae. I watch and reflect with a woman preparing to compete, she is in her 70s. This pushes all disappoint and frustration from me. I love that sports, that my sport, provides an avenue for everyone, all ages, all levels, all abilities. I love that this young man gets to perform and compete. Despite the inefficiencies, the injustices, the annoying pervasive sexism, because of these opportunities I love this sport.
Allison and I were here for the experience. Like with the ice cream sundae example I share with my students. We love Taekwondo. Getting to do Taekwondo is the ice cream base, delicious. To compete with like minded individuals is a topping, perhaps some nuts or sprinkles. Doing well, perhaps a top 5 finish, is comparable to adding some caramel or hot fudge. Medaling is the whip cream. Winning the cherry. If one walks back each level, the sundae is still delicious, despite losing an added topping. When we get back to the base, the ice cream, our daily dessert, that is what all the training and practice is about. That is really what is worth while. Competition and winning is a luxury.
Perhaps next year my focus will be different. I went to the US Open, alone, I learned about it, I had the experience, and I made friends. I had the honor to watch amazing athletes of all ages and abilities compete with their hearts on their sleeves. I hugged people I didn't know, sharing their disappointment. I high-fived top finishers. I was reminded what an amazing family I belong to, because Taekwondo is a family.
Now, onward and upward.
~Master Staup
