-
Title
-
XVIII. Directing : Control of Fencing (3)
-
Date
-
August 27, 1937
-
volume
-
2
-
issue
-
12
-
page start
-
6
-
page end
-
7
-
content
-
en
XVIII. DIRECTING
Control of Fencing (3)
Let us agree, in accordance with the discussion developed in my last article, that the director should not interfere with "colorful" competition. Let the fencers yell, stamp their feet, tear off their masks, and glare at the judge—it is all in fun, and the spectators love it. But let us also, as judges and directors, keep in mind that this is all showmanship—it has nothing to do with the merits of the respective contestants, or with the touches scored by each.
Most fencers regard their sport as a fine art. Artists have long successfully established their right to be temperamental, if they want to be—and I believe it is poor policy for the director to "step on" temperamental fencers. But, as in everything else, we must draw the line between temperament and bad manners.
In international competitions, the fencers are permitted to do all they can to influence the judges to call touches, or not to call them, by gestures or shouts. Everyone expects it, and no one—not even the opponent—resents the practice. Often the opponent responds to such tactics by similar ones, and this serves to keep up interest and nervous tension among the spectators as well as the fencers. For instance, take the tactics of the famous French veteran, Philippe Cattiau, who drove his 1932 foil and epee teams to the Olympic Championship. Cattiau, better than anyone I have ever seen, knew all the psychological tricks of fencing, and it was a joy to see him turn the tables on an opponent who tried too frequently, and without justification, to influence the judges in his favor. The opponent would yell "au bras" as he lunged with the epee. Cattiau, as he parried, would yell "non!" and by words and gesture proceed to get his opponent's goat by burlesquing his enthusiasm.
In regard to the judges, Cattiau was experienced enough never to attempt to claim a touch which had clearly missed, or to influence the judges against calling a clear hit which he had received. But let a doubtful touch be given against Cattiau, or not given in his favor, or let the judges make a mistake, and the veteran's attitude reflected his disappointment. A sorrowful look, as if he pitied the judges for their incompetence; a shrug of the shoulders and a shake of the head; or even a despairing gesture, raising his hand to his forehead—all left no doubt as to Cattiau's opinion. But not every fencer can successfully put on such an act. Cattiau knew fencing thoroughly, not only as a contestant, but as an official; he had the prestige that comes with complete mastery of the game. Judges and directors are frankly put on their mettle when they officiate at Cattiau's bouts, for he would expose their every mistake. But that was Cattiau. A lesser light would have been laughed out of his efforts.
And this is precisely what the leading European directors do with obstreperous fencers—they do not hesitate to make them appear publicly ridiculous. It is a most effective system of maintaining the good order of the competition. The line between permissible efforts to influence the judges and bad sportsmanship is usually clearly drawn. Up to the time that the director calls for a vote of the judges on each touch, almost anything goes. But once the judge has rendered his decision, the matter is closed.
Thereafter, the fencer who wants to "gripe" or protest is treading on dangerous ground. He must be absolutely sure that there has been a misapplication of the rules, or else any good director will make him the laughing stock of the competition.
Of course, the director must be thoroughly competent and sure of his ground, or else the whole thing turns out to be a farce. But when the situation is adequately handled, it is something worth-while seeing. Take for instance, Carlo Anselmi, the greatest showman among the European officials. He handles the bout rapidly, with marvelous efficiency, and in a manner that holds the interest of the spectators every minute. A fencer once made violent protest of a touch called against him. Anselmi looked painfully surprised. He ceremoniously turned to the two judges, and again asked each whether the touch had been good. They both answered affirmatively. Anselmi then turned both hands out, as if he were unable to see what the fencer was kicking about; when the fencer continued to "gripe," Anselmi turned to the audience with such a despairing attitude, as if to say "what can you do with an idiot like this?", that everyone burst out laughing, the bout was quickly resumed, and there was not another peep out of the fencer in question.
On matters of fact (such as the existence of the touch, and the conventional right of way), the jury is by the rules the sole judge. Consequently, it does not do the fencer any good to argue once the decision has been established by the director, if the rules have been properly applied according to the facts. Any good international fencer knows this; and after the decision has been rendered, there is no use squawking. Therefore, he simply puts on his mask, goes on guard, and resumes the bout. To do otherwise would not only antagonize the officials and the audience, but would also affect his own reputation as a fencer.
On the other hand, let a rule be misapplied, either by a judge or by a director, and then the fencer is clearly entitled to do all the protesting he wants, without being subject to any risks or penalties. The Europeans reasonably expect that their officials will be thoroughly competent, and it is an uncomfortable position for a judge or director to be caught ignoring or violating an established rule. The leader of the team of the aggrieved fencer, all his teammates, and a good many of his partisans in the audience, will raise a howl and come to the strip gesticulating. The rules, of course, provide for appeal to the Bout Committee in such instances.
In this country, our main trouble is that most of our temperamental fencers squawk every time a hit is called against them, whether they have any grounds for protest or not, and will go on "griping" after the decision of the judges has been rendered. Frankly, I believe that much of this squawking is fully justified because of the incompetence of our officials, and therefore I feel that, within reasonable bounds, the director should not penalize the fencer who feels aggrieved.
On the other hand, the fencer should exercise discretion. It is very much like the boy who cried "wolf" all the time. If you always kick against unfavorable decisions, you will be branded as an ignorant sorehead, and when your protests are justified they will be completely disregarded.
When a fencer oversteps the bounds of permissible behavior on the strip, if he becomes abusive and objectionable to the officials, the director has broad discretionary powers of discipline. He may call the contestants to go "on guard," and failure of the recalcitrant fencer to do so, after due warning, may be such an act of "unsportsmanlike conduct" as would warrant the director in expelling him from the tournament. It is unfortunate that such extreme action may be necessary in the interest of preserving order. Because the cases where this becomes imperative are very few, it does not hurt the cause of fencing if the director possesses a sense of humor, permits both fencers and spectators to enjoy themselves, and still handles the bout efficiently without appeal to a show of force.
M. A. de C.
