Global Training Report

Carlson Gracie Academia

By Roberto Pedreira

    No sign outside. No need. Everyone knows where this academy is. It’s been here since 1968. Even Helio’s academy in Botafogo hasn’t been in the same place as long.    

    Suite 302 at 414 Rua Figueiredo de Magalhães is where Carlson taught on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday and Rolls taught on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. This is where the bichos, cascudos, gasca grosas and duros come to train.  

    Carlson’s brand of jiu-jitsu emphasizes toughness. Technique without strength only works if your opponent doesn’t know anything, Carlson believes, and nowadays everyone knows something. Not much maybe, but something, and sometimes  merely something is enough. (Rolls of course was a technician par excellence, but Rolls has been gone since 1982, and the academy has taken on the personality of its namesake, despite the fact that he is no longer involved in its operations. His former partner, Amaury Bittetti’s father, now owns the school).  

  I went in and up to the third floor. It looked like a warehouse. The door to the academy was a heavy iron gate. I went in. Guys were lying around. They looked at me inquisitively. I do not look like the type who would be in Carlson Gracie’s original academy in Rio. I recited my introduction: "eu sou Americano e gostaria conhecer o jiu-jitsu do Carlson".  "It's ok man, we all speak English", someone said from across the room. It was Carlão Barreto. He was exaggerating about the "we all” and maybe the part about speaking too, but he himself had no difficulties with the language.  He lived in Beverly Hills but was in Rio to prepare for a fight the coming weekend in São Paulo with wrestler Gary Meyers. Did he expect a tough fight? Sure, everyone's tough. There are no easy fights anymore. Everyone knows everything now. Everyone in this business is tough”. After Meyers, anyone he'd like to fight?  “Yes, anyone, Kerr, Erickson, anyone. Win or lose, I like to fight”.  

    I watched the training for a while. Carlson's fighters train intensely. The guy next to me had his arm in a sling. Chave de braço, I asked? “Não. Motorcycle” he said.  A friendly guy. Later I recognized him in Warrior magazine, heaping pancadas and porradas on the bloody head of his hapless luta livre opponent. 

     Bebeo Duarte  was  supervising the training. "What do you think of the training?" he asked. “Agresivo”, I said. He disagreed. "Not aggressive--tough. They don't like to lose", he said, chuckling.  

     Purple belt Amilto asked me how I liked Rio. I told him I liked it pretty good, from what I had seen, which was mostly beaches and academies.  He disagreed: “Rio is shit. Pollution and crime everywhere. Be careful for your camera”, he warned me. The only one good thing about Rio is Brazilian girls, he said. He put on his motorcycle helmet and left.  

     Buffed Sergio looked like Sylvester Stallone with a slight case of acne. He had lived in Beverly Hills for six months, teaching with his faixa marrom (brown belt) at Carlson's academy. He liked it there, except the Southern California girls were too emaciated looking. Sergio excused himself to roll with a white belt. The white belt was about his size but not noticeably buffed, a little porky if anything. Sergio could not pass this guy's guard and finally got sweeped and mounted and couldn't escape. Six minutes later he came back. “Did that guy forget his faixa?” I asked. "Yes", he said. “Faixa preta, yes?” I asked, but I knew the answer.  

     Sergio was interested in foreign countries, especially where, I thought he thought, he might be able to benefit from the jiu-jitsu craze. He thought Europe and maybe the Middle East would be virgin territory. Sergio was Jewish, he said, and he was wondering what Tel Aviv was like. I couldn’t help him there, but why not, I thought. Nelson Monterio teaches jiu-jitsu in Abu Dhabi. Why not Israel? There are a lot of tough guys in Israel. They’d probably go for jiu-jitsu. I mentioned that Robin Gracie was in Spain. Robin was just a brown belt. I also mentioned that Rickson's representative in France was just a blue belt. "Blue belt"' he repeated, his eyebrows raised with surprise, “blue belt!”