Personal anecdote on exploiting weight‑cutting and platform‑fall rules in Chinese Sanshou competition

Everything popular is wrong. —OSCAR WILDE, The Importance of Being Earnest Beating the Game, Not Playing the Game L, 1999, sometime after quitting my second unfulfilling job and eating peanut-butter sandwiches for comfort, I won the gold medal at the Chinese Kickboxing (Sanshou) National Championships. It wasn’t because I was good at punching and kicking. God forbid. That seemed a bit dangerous, considering I did it on a dare and had four weeks of preparation. Besides, I have a watermelon head—it’s a big target. I won by reading the rules and looking for unexploited opportunities, of which there were two: 1. Weigh-ins were the day prior to competition: Using dehydration techniques commonly practiced by elite powerlifters and Olympic wrestlers, I lost 28 pounds in 18 hours, weighed in at 165 pounds, and then hyperhydrated back to 193 pounds.? It’s hard to fight someone from three weight classes above you. Poor little guys. 2. There was a technicality in the fine print: If one combatant fell off the elevated platform three times in a single round, his opponent won by default. I decided to use this technicality as my principal technique and push people off. As you might imagine, this did not make the judges the happiest Chinese I’ve ever seen. The result? I won all of my matches by technical knock-out (TKO) and went home national champion, something 99% of those with 5-10 years of experience had been unable to do. But, isn’t pushing people out of the ring pushing the boundaries of ethics’ Not at all—it’s no more than doing the uncommon within the rules. The important distinction is that between official rules and self-imposed rules. Consider the following example, from the official website of the Olympic movement (www.olympic.org). The 1968 Mexico City Olympics marked the international debut of Dick Fosbury and his celebrated “Fosbury flop,’ which would soon revolutionize high-jumping. At the time, jumpers... swung their outside foot up and over the bar [called the “straddle,” much like a hurdle jump, it allowed you to land on your feet]. Fosbury’s technique began by racing up to the bar at great speed and taking off from his right (or outside) foot. Then he twisted his body so that he went over the bar head-first with his back to the bar. While the coaches of the world shook their heads in disbelief, the Mexico City audience was absolutely captivated by Fosbury and shouted, “Olé!” as he cleared the bar. Fosbury cleared every height through 2.22 metres without a miss and then achieved a personal record of 2.24 metres to win the gold medal. By 1980, 13 of the 16 Olympic finalists were using the Fosbury flop. The weight-cutting techniques and off-platform throwing I used are now standard features of Sanshou competition. I didn’t cause it, I just foresaw it as inevitable, as did others who tested this superior approach. Now it’s par for the course. Sports evolve when sacred cows are killed, when basic assumptions are tested. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_013818