I was nineteen then, a recognized young karate champion, and had brought with me a traditional gift of respect for Wang: a substantial amount of high-quality ginseng. At our initial meeting, Wang did not hesitate to express his low regard for karate, telling me in no uncertain terms that, "karate is only fit for fighting old women and children." As karate had been a large part of my life and my passion at the time, this off-hand remark insulted me to the core. I was forced to swallow my indignation, though. In our ensuing sparring, Wang defeated me thoroughly on every occasion, tapping me lightly at will all over my body to demonstrate his easy circumvention of my defenses. Despite my best efforts and despite Wang’s enormous girth, his ba gua chang enabled him to effortlessly evade all my blows and end up behind me at will.
To graphically show me there was much to learn, he allowed me, after several days of study with him, to strike him with full power anywhere on his body. I put all the force at my command into these strikes, but they might as well have been the blows of a three-year-old. I kicked him in the knees and groin without effect, hit him in the neck and elbowed his ribs. Like many ba gua masters, he had the ability to absorb blows without injury. When I kicked him in the shin, my foot hurt long afterward. When I drove my fist into his belly, it felt as if the blow had broken my wrist. Wang would often tap me on the head during sparring just to demonstrate how easy it would have been for him to demolish me.
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