The now 31 year old was on the tatami for as long as he could remember with his father, Kenji, participating in the 1992 Barcelona Olympics and later opening a dojo where he would train his two sons, Joshiro and Goki. Joshiro’s childhood was defined by his family expectation to take up judo, and in contrast to many other prolific judoka, he did not enjoy his early years of training. The expectation that came with an Olympian father was crushing for Maruyama, but despite the difficult relationship forged between him and judo, he still wanted to carry on the legacy set out by his predecessors and go to the Olympics.

We cannot talk about Maruyama in isolation. We would be missing much of his story without the mention of his greatest rival, none other than the now two-time Olympic champion, Hifumi Abe. For many of Maruyama’s greatest achievements, he would have to stand against his fellow countryman, knowing that only one of them could walk away the victor. They met a known total of eleven times, giving fans plenty of amazing fights to watch as neither of them conceded early, knowing that in all of their matchups, everything was there to win or lose. In all of their fights, neither Maruyama nor Abe would be able to finish the fight before the match’s regular period ran out, with many of their fights going deep into golden score. In many of those matches, we saw the will of Maruyama come out victorious, often being closer to hansoku-make due to his more patient style of judo compared to Abe, characterised by his unrelenting aggression, and this was best seen in Maruyama’s greatest contest: The Tokyo 2019 World Championship Semi-Final.

In a rare occasion for the two, Maruyama and Abe would be fighting in a contest that did not crown the gold medallist, instead deciding who would go on to fight for that chance. Maruyama faced adversity early on as Abe set the gruelling pace he is known for. It seemed that Maruyama was also suffering some type of cramp or injury, leaning the odds even further away from him. But as they settled, and time ticked away, Maruyama built momentum, giving us a classic clash of styles as Abe’s feet left the ground on a handful of occassions. Maruyama looked close to disqualification for a majority of the contest with two shidos down, but thankfully the contest continued until a score was registered, and it would be Maruyama who caught Abe with a yoko-otoshi as he was circling. For a moment, I’m sure all viewers forgot that the two had one more contest left after this, because it might as well have been the match to decide it all.

Maruyama went on to become 2019 world champion, beating Limhwan Kim in the final by ippon to cement the first elite accolade of his legacy. Abe would go on to fight another rival: Manuel Lombardo, who had beaten Abe earlier that year in Paris. He would avange the loss deep into golden score, and Lombardo had a legitimate claim to victory as one of his throw attempts was overruled.

Although the title of Olympic champion was Maruyama’s dream, one that looked to be inevitable after becoming world champion, he would never be able to achieve it. In both the 2020 and 2024 Olympic selections, Abe was chosen to go after getting victories over Maruyama in the 2020 Olympic selection match and the 2023 world championships final. As countries can only send one representative per weight class, Maruyama was not afforded a spot, being left out to dry. He would go on to win the 2021 world championships in Budapest against Lombardo in the final, and from there onwards , it always seemed like Abe was there to stop him from achieving the coveted gold medal.

Maruyama’s final appearance was at the 2024 Paris Grand Slam, where he reached the final, narrowly losing out to Takeshi Takeoka, Maruyama’s first loss to anyone not called Hifumi Abe in six years. Although he took home silver medals in many of these difficult defeats, it was never enough for Maruyama, knowing that a compatriot in his weight would be looked upon more favourably. This can be attributed to the more cut-throat culture of international sports performance in Japan as a whole, but it also felt as though Maruyama had placed this weight upon himself knowing that his father, Kenji Maruyama, had gone to the Olympics and his dream was to not only attend the world’s most celebrated sports showcase, but to win it outright.

Removing his encounters with other judoka, Maruyama did not shine because of his accolades. It was instead his refined arsenal of techniques which showed everyone how beautiful the sport of judo can be. It may be little surprise given that his senpai was none other than Shohei Ono, but Maruyama’s uchi-mata has captured the hearts of all judo fans for it’s blend of precise set-up and raw power, executed in a way we just don’t see all that often. If you’re going to show anyone what judo is truly capable of, there’s a good chance you show them Maruyama’s uchi-mata. Despite its importance in his systems and style, he also had other techniques such as tomoe-nage and sode tsurikomi-goshi which served him well throughout his career. These techniques were frequent in highlight reels and for good reason, as they required technical, tactical and physical mastery to pull them off the way Maruyama did. His wins against Baul An and Shinsei Hattori are great examples of his alternate avenues to victory over the years.

Maruyama’s legacy, independent of his family and rivalry with Abe, is quite a unique one. Despite falling short of his ultimate goal, Maruyama is revered by a vast majority of judo’s international viewerbase for what many deem to be his portrayal of true judo on the mat. He builds his game not around diminishing his opponents’ efforts but executing tecniques in a way that many desire but few can replicate, and some would argue he did this too well at times, as some opponents would be thrown so hard that they would land on their front, leaving no score to be awarded. This is the judo that entices laypeople to join, that mesmerises those with eager yet early ambitions in the sport. Joshiro Maruyama is judo, and I believe the sport will clamour to find someone that can fill even half of the hole that has been left by his departure from competition.

Before I continue, I must preface that this conversation will look primarily at striking arts. While your long and luscious hair coming out of its tie during a grappling match isn’t a pleasant experience, it isn’t as potentially detrimental as in boxing, kickboxing or MMA contexts. One might even say it’s an advantage in grappling, particularly when you’re in mount and your hair just so happens to block your opponent’s field of vision. I joke, but every small difference is tangible and, for reasons I’ll explain now, that applies doubly to striking arts.

Let’s first break down the main scoring criteria of boxing and MMA. In the case of boxing, judges look for four criteria that an athlete can display in a round, these are:

• Effective Aggression — pressing forward in a way that allows the fighter to land strikes while avoiding ones from his opponent, i.e. hit and don’t get hit.
• Ring Generalship — the ability to manoeuvre around the ring in a way that compliments the fighter’s style. For example, an aggressive fighter will look to take and keep the centre of the ring.
• Defence — keeping the head and body safe from significant damage by blocking, slipping, parrying and rolling with attacks.

And, most importantly for our discussion today…

• Hard and Clean Shots — landing the more effective/damaging shots in a contest.

Variations of these criteria have been used for other striking sports such as kickboxing and MMA, but boxing arguably has the most well-known scoring criteria of all, so we’ll use this version for now.

Firstly, there is no hierarchy in place to say which of these criteria is more important than the other. You can win a round with very little defensive awareness, and you can lose a round looking defensively sound, but generally, a bias tends to appear when a clean punch lands which seems to stun a boxer, and those who watch regularly can feel a shift in momentum. For this reason, landing hard and clean shots is the best thing you can do in terms of taking a round in boxing.

Now, why is this relevant? Well, how can we tell what a hard and clean shot to the head is? It’s a very subjective topic and will differ on a case by case basis, but some common themes emerge when you ask fans. When a good punch to the head lands, the head snaps back or to the side depending on if it’s a straight or looping punch and the eyes tend to roll back. Some fighters’ legs may also not look as stable, or they may change strategies to minimise further damage. Those first two tells relating to the head and eyes are key to the idea of long hair in striking being a negative as when you quickly rock your head back or to the side, your hair follows in a whip-like motion. This will happen whether that rocking motion is the result of a good strike or swift head movement. As a consequence of this, close calls in terms of strikes landing or not can be made unclear when someone with long hair moves their head to avoid the punch, meaning that missed or light strikes can be interpreted as a scoring shot for the opponent.

This is doubly bad news for MMA. The comparatively younger sport adopts the same scoring system as boxing (the infamous 10-point must system), but the criteria for winning a round is much different. Instead of four non-hierarchal concepts, we have an ordered list of criteria to look out for:

• Effective Striking/Grappling (Plan A)
• Effective Aggressiveness (Plan B)
• Control of The Fighting Area (Plan C)

With MMA’s criteria, it is very important to highlight that plans B and C have NO effect on scoring unless plan A is even for both competitors. That means whoever can more effectively grapple by taking opponents down and advancing positions/attacking submissions or, more importantly for today, effectively strike by landing shots that have a visible impact on a fighter, will win the round. As mentioned prior, untied long hair can blur the line for effective strikes, potentially swinging close rounds in favour of the other competitor.

I’ll admit, this is perhaps the most nit-picky thing I’ve ever talked about on this page. I may struggle to convince you that long, untied hair makes a tangible difference in a fight, but thankfully, I’m not the only one who sees significance in this seemingly cosmetic decision. Below are some examples of UFC fighters who run into the long hair dilemma:

Paddy Pimblett

One of the scouser’s most recognised traits is his uniquely styled blond hair, which is often left out for show in his fights. However, for his appearances against Tony Ferguson and King Green, Paddy Pimblett opted to keep the hair in cornrows for reasons he explains in the UFC 296 post-fight presser:

“The reason I thought of it was because I’m sick of getting hit with little punches and like left hooks and stuff like that and people being like ‘Oh, he’s rocked! He’s rocked!’ Like, nah, my hair just moved. I’m not rocked at all. So, I think it was a little bit of a tactical one as well because also my hair goes in my eyes lad, and I’ve got to lift my chin up and I think I’ve done a little bit of a better job keeping my chin down tonight with the cornrows.”

This is what initially exposed me to the idea that details like hair can influence how effective striking is perceived in a fight. Of all the anecdotes listed in this article, it’s also the most explicit example of a fighter changing their hair to avoid misinterpretations from the judges. It seems that Paddy’s words have begun a trend as Alexander Volkov, who also seems to enjoy growing out his conservative combover, made the switch to cornrows recently. It’s a small world in MMA.

Chito Vera

While Pimblett is known for one signature look, Chito Vera has gained attention through doing complete one-eighties on his appearance between fights. Depending on how he feels, he can come in bald and clean shaven, having short hair that’s bleached, or he sports long-flowing locks with an unkept beard. None of this is to mention the wild tattoo journey he’s had across the years, but the key detail for today is Vera’s hair length.

Vera is blessed with one of the sport’s hardest chins, withstanding egregious punishment and only recently suffering his first knockdown against Deiveson Figueiredo. Perhaps the hardest strike he’s been unlucky to receive was in his rematch against Sean O’Malley, where he ate a knee that looked and sounded career-ending. It also happens to be that Vera sported particularly long hair for that fight, which whipped back as the knee shot his chin upwards.

Building upon what Pimblett said in the first section, one has to wonder if the perceived impact of the blow was effected by Vera’s hair. Although no damaging shot fits an exact list of requirements, Vera’s knockdown at the hands of Figueiredo was so surprising because there wasn’t much of a snap from the shoulders, but the same could be said for the O’Malley knee when watching the slower replay. In this instance, hair could be the factor that takes a strike from a flash knockdown to a thunderous shot.

The Takeaway

If there’s one thing to take away from this post, it’s optics. In sports that put heavy emphasis on criteria that can’t be truly objective, how we perceive things is of underestimated importance. This isn’t limited to visual elements, but this is the area that we can control the most in combat sports. Perhaps it’s worth giving your hair the extra time to be styled in a way where it doesn’t move, or even taking a trip to the barber or salon, because you never know what difference it could make.

To the readers, I hope you’ve all been settling into the Autumn season well. I feel it’s only right that I address the sudden drop in activity from my page, going from 3 articles a week quite reliably to radio silence since late October.

Tackling why this has happened is rather simple: I’m in a very different position to where I was a few months ago. These details are not real points of discussion on my page, but openness in these situations is important so to outline the basics, I am now:

• Further prioritising personal goals like sports performance
• Consistently entering tough episodes from a mental perspective
• Working towards full-time work
• (Perhaps most importantly) allowing myself more time to rest

Despite the change in priorities and circumstances, I’m not done with this page. I intend to keep posting articles, although much more sporadically and less frequently with a higher emphasis on quality, as opposed to clamouring for ideas on small snippets which could be fleshed out much better in due time. I also want to address a related detail while I’m here.

I’ve adapted to these new circumstances, and I’d like my content to reflect that. This is to say that I want to cover other topics. The focus will always be on my observations and experiences of judo and MMA, but I also see myself making room for important lessons I encounter in new situations. This will all make sense as things progress, but the change will be noticeable.

I hope you stick around for the ride (or if you’re new, hop on now!), there might be something of use or interest in my cumbersome catalogue now or in the future.

Thanks for reading.