During my senior year of college, I helped a friend, an Aegean shipping attorney, pass the TOEFL…read moreEnglish proficiency exam. That made me extremely popular with the ESOL crowd, many of whom had a financial incentive to earn their English-language credentials. My little side hustle eventually turned into a job with a corporate training company, where I taught executives not only English but also the finer points of American business acumen.
One of my first clients was a Brazilian attorney and investor in the Rilion Gracie Academy. Gregarious, passionate, and apparently very persuasive, he convinced another client and me to try a few training sessions with Rilion Gracie himself, one of Brazilian jiu-jitsu's most accomplished instructors.
My training partner, a German mechanical engineer, and I were a little concerned at first. There were plenty of neck tattoos, police patches, and corrections-officer badges. These weren't guys practicing elaborate ways to hug strangers on the floor. Some of them trained because knowing how to fight could literally save their lives.
The staff, however, were remarkably patient, which made the academy especially welcoming to women and children. Many instructors even trained alongside their own kids. Nothing keeps your ego properly calibrated like watching a child understand leverage better than you do.
Eventually, I graduated, found a real job, and acquired a persistent rash that I remain convinced followed me home from an off-site tournament. My professional career survived. My skin eventually did, too.
Still, I miss the discipline, camaraderie, humility, and controlled violence of training at Rilion Gracie Jiu-Jitsu. I may have left the mats behind, but I never forgot the lessons: stay calm, respect the tap, check your ego, and shower immediately after practice.
