Crazy Jon Bluming stories (posted here bfore I think):
These are great:
Later that same summer (1960) something happened that was not so funny. One day I fought a very young 1-dan, a big fat kid weighing about 130 kilo (286 pounds). When I tried to throw him with a left osotogari, big outer leg throw, my foot went faster than the rest of my body and hooked after his left leg. My toe went under my foot and the fat kid just sat on it like he had a comfortable small chair instead of my calf. The toe gave a sound like somebody broke a big dried stick and I nearly fainted from pain and despair.
For every foreigner studying budo in Japan, the biggest worry, besides money, was injuries, as these could put an end to his dreams or to the study altogether.
Especially knees, ankles, backs, and wrist injuries were feared, and before I even hopped out of the dojo the foot was already swollen twice its size and becoming dark-colored. I could scream with chagrin thinking about the weeks ahead of pain and not been able to train.
Next day Donn Draeger looked at the foot and said that he had a kind of old-fashioned horse medicine that would cure the toe a hell of a lot faster than what I had in mind. By then the colors were darkgreen with yellow and dark blue, and Karel Appel , the Dutch painter, would have loved it. Me, I just said like a movie Indian, "HOW?"
"Well," said Donn, "instead of behaving like a old lady we will now see if you are a man."
A bit annoyed I said, "Let's have it then."
We were downstairs at the Kodokan at the time, so Donn told me to go upstairs to the smaller dojo where there were fewer people around.
Bill tagged along, as did a bunch of Japanese. Then Donn said I must take my toe firmly between my fingers and swing it around until it loosened up. Then he said that I had to do that a couple times a day until I fell over from the pain. Then I could stop for awhile. He was grinning, so I think that was US Marine humor from the Iwo Jima days.
The Japanese university judoka were showing their sympathy with the toe by shaking their heads and hissing through their teeth. You could hear them thinking, what a terrible toe but it sure looks good on him. But they didn't understand what Donn was saying, for their English was still poor in those days. Bill translated for them and that aroused their interest.
I asked Donn if he was kidding me. To my horror he said, "No Jon, it works, but you will not have much fun doing it."
When I saw all those grinning faces I wanted to hit them, but instead I gripped my toe firmly and started to turn the damn thing as if my life depended on it. A red-hot flame shot from my toe through my whole body and a nauseating pain took over and I nearly passed out. Bill told me later that my face was nearly as blue as my toe and I know I almost wet my pants and didn't care who saw the tears running down my face. And a couple of the Japanese almost threw up as they heard the sickening crackle of the brittle bone coming loose. The rest just stared in amazement, as if at a horror show.
Then a strange thing happened. The pain went away and I honestly felt almost nothing anymore and thought, "Now I will make a real show for my Kenshusei brothers."
I stood up, shook my head, and asked the biggest Japanese in sight to attack. "Onegaishimasu," I said, then bowed and screamed "Tsugoi!" I hit him like a mad ape and boy, did I get whacked on my ass.
After that I decided maybe I needed a few more days of rest. I got their respect anyway that day and from then on they nicknamed me (behind my back) Oranda no Dobutsu, which means that animal from Holland.
It sure made my day.