Cousin of Shark Girl Reviews Scramble Bushido Athletics Shorts

When Shark Girl received the Scramble Bushido Athletic Shorts from BJJhq.com, they were cartoonishly large. “I can’t review these!” I thought. “If I can’t find someone else to review them, I’ll have to send them back.” I did some recon and found this description of the shorts at the Scramble website:

“Scramble shorts are here to pimp up the lower half of your body! Featuring side split seams and a spandex crotch panel for Muay Thai / guard players and the well endowed.”

Whom did Shark Girl know that was interested in pimping up the lower half of his body? It was obvious: Cousin of Shark Girl. You have read about Cousin of Shark Girl before here and here.

Actually, Cousin of Shark Girl is quite modest and I didn’t think he’d want to pimp up his body at all. Nor does he do Muay Thai. But he is a guard player and I’m pretty sure he is in favor of spandex crotch panels. As for well-endowed—chill out, he’s my cousin, already! This along with the fact that Cousin of Shark Girl is the only BJJer who knows Shark Girl’s real identity made him the perfect candidate. The only candidate.

            Cousin of Shark Girl accepted the challenge and has been wearing the Scramble shorts tirelessly. Dear readers, I introduce to you my very first Guest Blogger: Cousin of Shark Girl.

***

While visiting my cousin, Shark Girl, she let me try out a pair of grappling shorts, the Bushido by Scramble. These shorts came to my cousin via BJJhq.com, a great site that keeps me up late at night, refreshing my browser, looking for deals on grappling gear. BJJhq.com is very popular where I train so I’m happy to help them out with a review.

The shorts are purple with bright yellow lettering. I must admit that I was a little concerned when she first showed them to me. I’m the kind of guy who does not like to stand out in a crowd.  

My greatest fear

The yellow lettering includes some Japanese kanji symbols for the word “Bushido” which roughly translates to “the way of the Samurai.” Thanks, Wikipedia.

The shorts are a size Small and Shark Girl said they were way too big for her. I have a 32” waist and when I put them on, they were snug around the waist but not constricting due to the fact that they have an elastic waistband. Once I cinched the Velcro strap and drawstring, I actually thought they fit very nicely.

I’m about 5’9” and they do show a little more leg than my other grappling shorts, but I actually liked that.

Shark Girl says, "Ooh la la!"

I have a few other pairs of grappling shorts that are longer, baggier, and clumsier looking in my opinion. The Bushido shorts also have a small slit along the outside of the thigh that helps with leg mobility. In addition, they’re 100% polyester which makes them slick and light.

Sure, they felt great while I was prancing around my living room, but the true test would be how they held up going full speed at the gym. They are light and thin and my biggest concern was that they wouldn’t last too many tough grappling sessions. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I’ve worn them dozens of times and not a stitch is out of place. And they are so light that I feel like I’ve gained a step on my training partners—if I can only convince them that that’s the case. One last comment: I actually received a handful of compliments on how the shorts looked. I’m still not a fan of the colors, but they are currently my favorite grappling shorts as far as performance and feel are concerned.

Pros:

• Super light and thin
• Durable
• Snug but comfortable fit. I’m 5’9” and 175 lbs. and the Small fit me just fine. (If you’re concerned they might be too small, you should obviously go with a larger size.)

Con:

• The colors−purple shorts with yellow lettering. If you don’t mind standing out a bit at the gym, these colors are for you.

I hope you found this review helpful. That's all for now folks!

Respectfully Yours,
Cousin of Shark Girl

Escaping Side

Sometimes people write to me, “Shark Girl, you never talk about technique. Are you even ever actually on the mat?” It’s funny you should ask. Yes, I am on the mat, as much as possible. But every time I start to write about technique, it goes nowhere. I stop, start, I shift focus. I can’t sustain it. Tonight, just for you, I’m going to talk about technique. Here goes. [deep inhalation] I can do this, I know I can.

I titled this “Escaping Side” not because I am going to tell you how awesome I am at side escapes. I am not going to give you my foolproof method to get out of it. If you came to this page looking for answers, I apologize. I’m the one who needs answers.

I can’t escape side—or mount or scarf, for that matter— to save my life. Basically, I can’t escape. I spend most of my time trying not to be on the bottom. And when I am on the bottom, forget it. I might as well tap immediately.

Tonight we drilled side escapes. I’ve practiced them many times. I still can’t figure them out. Sure, the drilling goes fine, but in practice, I can’t make ‘em happen. Here is a typical roll with Shark Girl:

• Shark Girl and Opponent do the Tap of Cordiality
• Shark Girl and Opponent shift around on knees until, usually, Opponent takes Shark Girl down
• Shark Girl gets guard; Opponent tries to pass guard
• Shark Girl opens guard; opponent is ensnared
• Opponent tries to pass guard; Shark Girl reguards
• Opponent tries to pass guard; Shark Girl reguards
• Shark Girl tries to sweep, fails, reguards
• Opponent tries to choke, Shark Girl scrunches chin down
• Opponent gives up on choke, tries to pass guard
• Shark girl reguards
• Opponent goes for something crazy, Shark Girl seizes opportunity to get on top
• Shark Girl floats around on top for a while, looking for something to attack
• Opponent sweeps Shark Girl, finally passes guard
• Shark Girl flails arms and legs like a dying cockroach
• Opponent grabs an Americana.
• Ouch. Shark Girl taps (which she hates to do)

If you close your eyes and picture yourself as Opponent, you’ve just had a virtual roll with Shark Girl. Hope it was good for you. It sucked for me.

 

I recognize that usually I am with a bigger, stronger, and mostly more experienced opponent. When I am matched with someone less skilled and my size or smaller I can usually jerry-rig some kind of escape. It may not look pretty, but as long as no one’s filming, I’m okay with that. 

Here’s where I need your help. Can you let me know at what point in your jiu jitsu career you started to master your side and mount escapes? Or is the point, as a weaker, smaller opponent, to avoid that position as best you can? I’m starting to get a complex about this.

Shark Girl’s Top Ten: What to Get Your Jiu Jitsu Girlfriend for Christmas, Hanukkah, or Any Other Gift-Giving Occasion Coming Up in the Next Few Weeks

It’s the most wonderful time of the year! But if you don’t get your Jiu Jitsu Girlfriend (Lover, Spouse, etc.) the right gift, you’ll pay for it in armbars. Here are some suggestions from Shark Girl’s list this year.

1.   A new gi.
Hers is getting stinky. (When in doubt, buy the smaller size. Trust me.)

 2.  Frilly Underwear.
For her and you. Do not get her “sexy lingerie” unless she is under 30. To a 20-something, sexy lingerie says, “He wants me!” To anyone older it says, “We don’t do it enough,” and is really a criticism. Besides, the work required to put on some of those contraptions and all the effort they demand post-donning will make her run to the nearest women’s-only relaxation room. (See #3 below.)

3.   Gift Certificate for a Massage.
Her muscles are tired from all that jiu jitsu! Usually there’s a relaxation room, so she can recover if you did not listen to Shark Girl’s advice in #2.

Please don't do the home version. You're not that good, and she knows what you expect afterward!

 4.  Jiu-Jitsu University by Saulo Ribeiro.
I can’t believe she doesn’t have this yet. But she doesn’t, and who doesn’t love Saulo?

 
5.  A Snarky Jiu Jitsu T-Shirt.
She’ll never buy it for herself, but secretly wants to wear one. Get her a Ladies’ size. Men’s (or “unisex”) makes her look frumpy. Shark Girl is extra small, by the way.

6.   A new sports bra.
You are probably thinking, “Nothing says I love you like a new sports bra? WTF, SG?” First of all, stop talking in texting, you are not 13. (Unless you are 13. But then you should find a different list for your girlfriend. This one is for mature audiences only.) Second of all, she needs one and will be glad that you are thinking of her breasts not in that way. Plus, a sports bra beats the potholders Husband got me a few Christmases ago. (Unfortunately, Shark Girl is also extra small here, but when in doubt, buy the bigger size.)

7.   A great nail clipper.
A jiu jitsu girl has to keep her nails trimmed constantly, and if she bought a cheap clipper like I did, she’s tired of putting it back together after every use. (Stocking Stuffer only.)

8. Gift Certificate to Her Favorite Hair Salon.
She needs a cute, short-do so she doesn’t have to tap for pulled hair. Shark Girl’s salon bill has tripled since she had to add “dye job” to the construction list. Looking this great takes cashola, baby.

She's got jiu jitsu arms!

9.   A babysitter.
Then take her out to a bitchin’ dinner. All that jiu jitsu makes her hungry. If you couple this with #2 and some wine, there’s no telling what could happen. Just bring the babysitter home first.

10.   A portable mat.
So she can practice on you at home without your complaints that she’s hurting you because there’s no mat. Man up, or pony up, bro!

Ladies, please add your suggestions. Gift Buyers, if you choose something from the list, keep Shark Girl posted on how it goes!

Weight Problem

Like many women, weight is not my favorite topic. I don’t own a scale. I don’t need to know that number on a daily basis. If I had access to a scale in my home, I might eat a lot less, but I would obsess a lot more. I’m not a numbers freak; I’m just competitive. What? I weigh how much more than before breakfast? Maybe I should walk up and down the stairs a few times and then recheck. It’s the same reason I stopped keeping a training log for my running many years ago. It pained me to write lower mileage in than the previous training session. So, I did away with training logs and scales and I’m much happier for it. Heck, my body knows when I’m overtraining or undertraining, and it sure knows when I need to cut down on the snacks (that’s pretty much always). I check my weight at my occasional doctor’s appointment or when I visit The In-Laws. Everyone’s happy.

Since starting BJJ–which incidentally was one year ago last week!—I have been pleased with how it has changed my body. Mommy Belly? Gone. I even splurged for some bikinis this summer. (Yes, I was that Forty+-Year-Old trying to rock the bikini on the beach. I apologize to all those I visually offended. To the person who shouted, “Put on a cover-up, Old-Timer! We’re not in Europe!” shame on you for your rude American stereotyping.)

Where is this going? Well, I did this 20k in September after training all summer long. Immediately after the race, I was at The In-Laws. “Great!” I thought. “I bet I’m totally low on the scale!” It was a humid day and I sweat pounds of water out of my body. The mileage I put in over the summer coupled with my new jiu jitsu habit was surely going to give me a nice, happy number on the scale. I showered from my race and hopped on naked, not even a sock to muddy the calculation. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Now, I would have been happy if the scale said the same or slightly higher than it did last year. I’ve gained a lot of muscle! But . . . the scale said I was about 6 pounds heavier than last year. SIX Freaking Pounds! (This is where I remind all you tall people that 6# is almost 6% of my body weight.)

A six-pound chicken, for comparison.

            Something clearly was wrong. The scale was probably uncalibrated. I tried again. I moved it away from the wall. I turned it around. I stepped on one foot. I repositioned my feet. Nope. Same answer. Clearly the scale was broken. I left confident in my assessment, or at least too dehydrated to come to a better conclusion.

Over the Great Power Outage, I visited The In-Laws quite a bit. I was curious to meet up with The Scale again to see what it had to say this time. I braced myself and stepped on. The number was even higher. It was time to take this thing public.

            “Mom-In-Law, is your scale accurate?”

            “Yes, It’s accurate.”

            “It’s not broken or off by a few pounds?”

            “No. . . .Well, yes, it is off by a few pounds.”

            “That’s what I thought. How much?”

            “It’s a little low—I’m always a few pounds heavier at the doctor’s.”

I called Husband in for back up. He got on the scale. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “It’s where I’ve always been.”

You are freaking kidding me. I’ve busted my hump for the last year, and I’ve gained weight? Who does that? All I read are the stories of people losing weight to jiu jitsu. “Girl starts Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Girl loses weight. Girl feels healthy, strong, and confident.” (Rock on, ladies.) So, what the eff is up with me?

I’ve calmed down a bit since then, and I’ve come to terms with The Scale. I will no longer step on it, and it will no longer give me numbers I don’t want to see. Despite The Scale, I’ve had a few comments recently from people I haven’t seen in a while like, “How do you stay so in shape?” Hey, I do feel healthy, strong, and confident. What do numbers mean, anyway?

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Eat up!

Shark Girl AWOL

Or, AT&T-WOL. It has been 20 days since that wonderful October nor’easter wreaked its havoc and stripped my home of electriciy for ten days. Alas, although power was restored, my Internet has been down, or spotty at best, since then. I have been learning to live without the World Wide Web. It’s not pretty, folks. Did you miss me? I certainly missed you.

            What have I been doing in my Netflix-less nights, devoid of all instantly-streaming content? I have caught up on a little reading. I have spent hours on the phone with American Telephone & Telegraph saying, “yes, yes,” to technicians who tell me I must must have filters on every phone jack (although my DSL worked fine for 8 years without them, but suddenly after a winter storm rips the wires off my house, all of the phone jacks now demand a filter), then being transferred and hung up on. I have daydreamed of the purchases I would make and the Shipping I would Super Save on and the things I would add to Shark Girl’s Wish List, if only, if only, my modem had a third green light. And I have been missing my connection with my Brazilian Jiu Jitsu community. *Sigh*

It’s good to be back. Let’s hope I stay connected.

Posting from Exile

Shark Girl is in exile. No, I have not committed a heinous crime, nor has my past finally caught up with me. The recent winter storm has driven me out of my home and into the arms of the In-Laws. (Yes, Tree Frog, I live in the Northeast!)

            It all started on Saturday, when we were hosting a Halloween party. As the first guests arrived, the power went out. “Cool!” shouted one of my son’s friends. Shark Girl, however, was wondering how to keep fifteen 4 to 11 year olds entertained for three hours without going outside or using electronics. Just when Husband and SG were resorting to tricks like, “Honey, dress up like a fortune teller!” or “Give them a tour of our dark basement!” power mercifully returned and we put on Little Shop of Horrors.  When the power finally went off for good, around 7 PM, I was exhausted anyway and glad to retire early to the comforts of bed.

            I awoke to a disaster area—limbs down, and a whole city in the dark. It has been this way since Saturday night. No electricity for 5 days. Our utility company’s best estimate is that we will have power restored by Monday afternoon.

            I am not complaining. My family spent Sunday afternoon discussing how we are fortunate in this storm: our old gas furnace provides heat to our bedrooms and scalding hot water.  We also have a gas stove. Many people are without heat and water all together. Given our fortunate circumstances we can stay “unplugged” in our home. We have retreated to the comforts of the In-Laws several times, because, well, 9-Year Old and 5-Year Old have discovered that fighting is a great way to pass the time when there’s no E. Wait—they fought before. The difference is that now, since school is cancelled, I am home with them constantly, confined to the bedrooms, and have to deal with their assiduous brotherly aggression. It brings out the worst in my parenting style: screaming, bulging neck veins, bug eyes, unexecutable threats.

            So I write to you today from exile at the In-Laws. In a fit of optimism, I brought my gi down for this trip and tried to find a place to do some jiu jitsu. No luck. Maybe my gym will be open tonight? Not likely. My daily runs have taken me past downed trees and power lines. Yesterday, four days into the storm, even on foot I had to pick through debris on the roads, hop over cables and duck (yes, at 4’11”, duck) for low-hanging wires. I wanted to post some pics for you, but my camera has either been broken by 5-Year Old (most likely) or is out of juice (less likely). Last night I did a frantic search by flashlight for its charger. The shadow play on the office clutter made me motion sick, so I gave up. You’ll have to get your disaster pictures elsewhere. Sorry!

I will leave you with a recent jiu jitsu exchange between Husband and me. It was a tender moment, a warm embrace. Unfortunately it occurred just after I learned some judo foot sweeps, and I was trying to keep them fresh in my mind. Husband leaned down to kiss SG gently on the lips.

     SG:              (practicing foot-sweep motion) I could take you down right here.      

     Husband:     You have a one-track mind. (Another gentle kiss.)

     SG:              So do you.

     Husband:     Yeah, but mine’s normal.

Sigh. Husbands just don’t understand!

                                   

This is Shark Girl signing off from an undisclosed home somewhere in the Northeast. 

Review of Vulkan Jiu-Jitsu Gi Backpack, Or, Shark Girl Sells Out

The bag came via a third party intermediary. Shark Girl can’t receive swag directly. It compromises my anonymity. Yes, it was only a matter of time before Shark Girl sold out. The good folks over at bjjhq.com (aka BJJ Headquarters) sent free stuff my way, and all I have to do is write bjjhq.com as many times as I can in one blog post. I can handle that. I would like it to be known that I have also been talking up bjjhq.com to my fellow jitsers at the club. The conversation goes something like this:

            “Yeah, I hate this gi I’ve been wearing. I’m looking for a new one. But they’re so expensive.”

            “You should try bjjhq.com. They have a Deal a Day. When it’s sold out, that’s it. But the deals are pretty good.” Little do my classmates know that I have been underwritten by bjjhq.com, or that they are talking with the infamous Shark Girl. Sigh. Marketing is everywhere these days, and so insidious.

            Oh, back to the bag. The clandestine package arrives and I open it excitedly. Perhaps I can quit my day job and just work for jiu jitsu goods? I pull it out of the packaging.

            “That’s a nice bag!” Husband remarks.

            You ain’t kidding. It is a beautiful bag.

Form

It’s made of black gi material, the softest I’ve ever felt. The bottom is some sort of rubberized plastic so when you put it down on the ground it won’t soak up the ick of the floor. This same plastic lines the lid.

It has two adjustable straps that go over the shoulders. One of the straps has a little Velcroed pocket that I’m guessing is for an iPod or some such other electronic device that I have no need for. Being a classics professional, sometimes I eschew the new and wildly popular, like social media sites and Real Housewives; other times I embrace it wholeheartedly, like Glee and ending sentences with prepositions. Anyway, I do own an iPod shuffle that I run with. I just don’t need a special pouch on my jiu jitsu backpack that I carry to and from the gym in my car. I suppose if I lived in New York City and walked to my gym, I might appreciate this feature. Mother of Suburbia finds it unnecessary.

            On the front of the backpack, the side facing out when one straps it on, are some pouches. Husband would insist that this is actually the back of the backpack, and this has ended us up in some interesting arguments in our 15 years of marriage. They sound something like this:

            Shark Girl:        “Did you find it?

            Husband:          “No, it’s not there.

            Shark Girl:        “Did you look in the pouch?

            Husband:          “Which pouch?”

            Shark Girl:        “The front pouch.”

            Husband:          “Nope. Nothing in the front pouch.”

            Shark Girl:        “Okay, let me check.”

Shark Girl stomps upstairs, exasperated that Husband can’t find it.

            Shark Girl:        “Here it is.”

            Husband:          “Where was it?”

            Shark Girl:        “In the front pouch.”

            Husband:          “But I looked in the front pouch.”

            Shark Girl:        “It was right there.”

            Husband:          “Show me.”

            Shark Girl:        “Right here.” (Pointing to front pouch.)

            Husband:          “Oh, that’s not the front pouch; that’s the back pouch.”

           

Okay, back to the pouches. The front pouches. There are two and they are spacious enough to hold my mouth guard and hair ties, and a hand brace. If I had a wish for these pouches, it would be that there were sections inside of them, so that when I forget to close them, stuff would not fall out all over my car seat.

            The top pouch is open and can be secured with an attractive drawstring that says “Vulkan.” This is the main section of the bag and it is quite large. For the most part, it is larger than my needs. I wear my gi to class, so the only thing I put in there is an extra shirt and a towel, sometimes my purse. This give the bag sloppy form and it slouches sadly, as if its purpose in life is unfulfilled. On a few particularly hot nights, I put my gi top in the bag and it was much happier, perky even. It stood upright and proud, as if to say, “Hey, I’m holding a gi!”

            On the sides of the bag are two mesh thingies, presumably for holding water bottles. When the bag is un(ful)filled, there is not enough tension to hold the bottles in, and these, too, fall out. When the main pouch of the bag is filled, the water bottle stays nicely in its place.

Sad Bag, Tumbling Water Bottle

Perky Bag, Snug Water Bottle

Size

The dimensions a little hard to measure because of the bag’s free-formness, but I will do my best.Please note that the tiles in the picture are 16"x16", and, yes, I did help my dad lay them.

General Bag Dimensions

Height: 16.5”, with a little flap that could extend this some; Width: approx. 19”; Depth: About 12”

(Front) Pocket Dimensions

Height: 7.5”; Width: 9”. Both of the front pockets are approximately this size. The main pocket has a zipper that goes around the perimeter of the pouch. The secondary pocket is inside the flap that unzipping the main pouch creates, and zips horizontally at the middle.

In Conlcusion

iPod holder and the flames of Vulkan

This is one capacious bag. When I walk around with it, well, I feel like a mother. Not like, “Hi, I’m a mom of two,” but more like, “My bag is from Brazil. It’s large. And it means I can motherf--- people up.” That’s about all I really want to say about a backpack. That’s the most I’ve ever said about any backpack. I am obliged as a Latin teacher to give a shout out to the brand name “Vulkan,” since he is the god of the forge, and there are little flames on one of the patches. He is also a lame god, since he fell from Mt. Olympus as a baby. Recently I’ve felt a lot like Vulkan—spitting out a lot of fire, but a bit creaky in the joints. Sigh.

           

If this wasn’t enough to get you to go to bjjhq.com, I leave you with one final reason, my favorite one. Aaron, who runs the site keeps all the comments up and they are a hoot to read. This is one of my recent favorites.

UPDATE May 2013: While this served me well, at this point the zipper on the larger pouch has broken and I can no longer use it to store stuff. I am limited to the small pouch which can hold a small bottle of aspirin, some adhesive tape, a couple of hair ties, and my mouth guard. This is kind of a bummer. So, a year-and-a-half of good service. It was a sweet ride while it lasted!