By Chuck Scarborough
Fencers have three from which to choose: the foil, the epee and the saber. The foil descends from a light court sword used by nobility; the epee from the dueling sword. In competitive fencing, both score points only with a thrust that strikes the opponent smartly with the weapon’s tip. The saber is a modern version of the cavalry sword. It is a slash and stab weapon. Saberists can score points with the tip or the edge of their blade by striking any part of an opponent’s body above the waist, which harkens back to combat between cavalry riders on horseback who didn’t regard the legs as a worthwhile target.
So, the saber it is for yours truly – and I learned a bit about it today at what may be the best venue in the country: Manhattan Fencing on west 39th Street. Founder Yury Gelman and his team of coaches are sending five saber fencers to the Olympics in Beijing – one third of the entire United States fencing team. If New Yorkers have a rooting interest in any sport in these games, it should be fencing!
I popped in to Manhattan Fencing this afternoon to learn some of the basics of the sport. My coach is Olympic team member Tim Morehouse, a 30-year-old New Yorker with a twinkle in his eye and steel in his hand. Fencers, it turns out, develop asymmetric muscles. The lead leg grows thick and strong from resisting the force after a lunge; the trailing leg is sinewy and quick to propel the fencer rapidly forward. The arm that holds the saber is much more heavily muscled than the other arm, which is used only for balance. But it’s the hand that holds the weapon that’s most unusual. After years of fencing, the muscle between the thumb and forefinger grows large and powerful, bulging upward like a golf ball beneath the skin. Now you know how to identify a fencer with a quick handshake.
Tim ran through the rules, which always favor the aggressor in a bout, and showed me the basic stance, grip and footwork. I watched his fellow Olympians as they got in some last minute training bouts before departing for China this week, coach Gelman firing off encouragement and criticism as the sabers clanged and crashed, and the combatants lunged and parried – all in their element, all sensing the glory and gold twelve thousand miles and a saber thrust away. A combination of excitement and tension hung in the air. It was infectious. I can’t wait to suit up and give it a go.
