By Howard Kim, Co-Editor-in-Chief
Since I was a little boy watching the Olympics, fencing — with its intricate style, split-second parries and fancy gear — has always intrigued me. A few weeks ago, I finally got to try out sabre fencing in all of its glory with the help of my friend, junior Ritchie Zhang, at the Delaware Valley Fencers Club.
Before even putting on any gear or touching a sabre, we began with the fundamentals. Starting off with footwork, Zhang showed me the stance that I would hold while fencing — the en garde stance: feet shoulder-width apart in an L-shape, while knees remain bent. I learned that it is illegal to cross your legs while stepping forward, and we practiced various drills such as stepping forward and backward, lunging, and returning to en garde.
Next, we began putting on gear, and its complexity blew me away. By the end, I wore an underarm protector for my dominant arm, a fencing jacket to protect my body, a glove for my sabre hand and a mask to protect my head. Then, we put on the lamé, a jacket that conducts electricity and allows a sensor light to indicate which fencer’s blade hit the other. We finished by connecting wires to the back of the lamé, sabre and mask and checking the conductivity of our setup.
Upon saluting to each other and our referee, we finally began the real fun. At first, it was a bit overwhelming. Every half step came with a moment of hesitation as I remembered that I couldn’t step forward like normal. Zhang took advantage of this, scoring numerous hits and readily defeating me. Eventually though, I eased into the rhythm of fencing and realized that once I got past the basics, like most things in life, it was ultimately a mental battle of patience and discipline.
Due to the “right of way” rule in fencing, the advancing fencer will win the point over the retreating fencer if both hit each other simultaneously. On top of that, fencers also win a point if their opponent steps outside of the designated fencing strip. I quickly discovered that winning the initial game of chicken — when both fencers step toward each other at the beginning — was incredibly helpful for giving me a shot against my much more experienced adversary.
Once I had this advantage, I realized that sometimes the best form of attack is the possibility of one rather than the slash itself. In fact, the first point I managed to score on Zhang was when I forced him to retreat and continued to feint until he had no choice but to step out of bounds. After losing round after round, I was absolutely overjoyed, and it was such a rewarding feeling to have truly earned the point rather than having my friend just go easy on me.
After shattering the initial mental block of facing a far more experienced opponent, I kept improving and scored hits more frequently, although I never ended up winning any of our matches. I continued to get more comfortable, varying my footwork from small steps to even flying lunges and my bladework from overhead slashes to sudden jabs.
Overall, I truly enjoyed the unique experience of fighting a mental battle with physical sabres and gained valuable life lessons in patience and discipline all while staying calm under pressure. Although it’s uncertain whether I’ll be able to fence again, the insights I gained into thriving as a competitor will stay with me, no matter what my future holds.
Howard Kim can be reached at [email protected].
