I lost all my faith in the superpowers of martial arts at Butlins on Barry Island in 1981
a bunch of 10 or 11 year olds were being shown the rudiments of how to fall down safely by a burly bloke tripping us up one by one. A friend of mine took exception to the procedure, stepped over the trip and punched the hong kong fooey master right in the kidney. He laughed it off and pretended it hadn't hurt but spoke with an obviously strained voice for the rest of the lesson.

Bony eleven-year-old knuckles: 1 Chop sockey: nil
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 20 Jan 2012, 8:49, 2 replies)

I earned my karate sensei's grudging respect
by heading his advice and running away from a fight.
Two of us from the class were to be attacked, in turn, by the rest of the class (to practice blocking). One rather large gentleman took a flying leap at me, whilst screaming; I wisely decided that a block was out of the question, and stepped aside, allowing my assailant to plow into a pile of chairs.
Bruce Lee had nothing on me.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 20 Jan 2012, 9:32, closed)

Ah yes.
The hopping bird stack-o-chairs technique. Advanced stuff for a child.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 20 Jan 2012, 9:54, closed)