Remembering John Dearden Judo 1974-2024

24/01/2026

In the dojo, where the mats smell faintly of sweat and ambition, one brave judoka sat like a philosophical potato in a white gi, black belt cinched like a superhero’s cape. He had just been thrown—again. Not gently. Not gracefully. More like a sack of rice hurled by an angry chef.

But did he cry? No. Did he curse? Only internally, in three languages. He sat there, staring at the ceiling, contemplating the mysteries of gravity and why his face had become so familiar with the floor.

Behind him, a gi hung like a ghost of training past, and a trophy gleamed like it was mocking through the dojo:
"No matter how many times you fall,
Rise up stronger. Preferably with your dignity intact."him: “Bet you wish you were me.”
Then, with the dramatic flair of a movie montage, he rose. Slowly. Dramatically. Like a phoenix with sore knees. He bowed to the mat—not in defeat, but in mutual respect. Because in judo, the mat is your best friend and worst enemy. It never lies. It just slaps.
And as he stood tall, the motto of our club echoed
That’s the spirit of our club: fall hard, rise harder, and laugh in between.

31/12/2025

2025 is bowing off the mat like a sweaty judoka who gave it everything and now just wants a sit down and a drink. What a year. Bruises collected, belts tightened, egos adjusted, and at least one throw that worked once and has been talked about ever since.

We’ve had triumphs, near-misses, glorious ippons, and moments where the referee definitely saw something the rest of us didn’t. A proper judo year. The kind that leaves you stronger, slightly limping, and weirdly grateful.

Now here comes 2026, strutting onto the tatami like it owns the place. To everyone competing this year: the opportunity is right there, staring back at you between rounds. Train hard. Fall over. Get back up. Repeat. Keep the respect, keep the humility, and remember that progress isn’t loud, it’s consistent.

If 2025 taught us anything, it’s that effort shows up eventually and excuses get thrown faster than bad drop seoi. Stay disciplined, stay kind, and keep bowing on and off the mat like it actually matters. Because it does.

Here’s to another year of graft, growth, and pretending the warm-up wasn’t that bad. Happy New Year. Oss.

18/11/2025

Judo Coaches: A Simple Guide to Getting the Basics Right
1. Bring the Right Kit
Judoka must have both a white gi and a blue gi.
They must bring their own blue and white competition belts.
Make sure everything actually fits them.
2. Keep Record Books Updated
Every judoka must have a record book with their name written clearly.
All grades must be accurately recorded.
Grading stickers must be in place as proof of grade.
Check that the grades in the book match what’s registered on official systems.
3. Respect the Etiquette
Teach consistent bowing principles for entering and leaving the mat.
Ensure judoka know to wear footwear off the mat to keep the tatami clean.
Reinforce good manners, behaviour and respect at all times.
4. Prepare Judoka Before Competition
Go through competition requirements with them in advance.
Check uniform, belts, record book and proof of grade before leaving the club.
Explain event expectations so nothing is a surprise on the day.
5. Take Responsibility for Gradings
When you conduct a grading, complete the record book properly and clearly.
Apply stickers and grade updates immediately.
Double-check accuracy to maintain the integrity of the grading structure.
6. Remember What Judo Is About
Competition is important, but not more important than judo’s values.
Promote discipline, respect, honesty and self-control in everything you teach.
Model the behaviour you expect your judoka to follow.

28/08/2025

Barry Blunt once wandered into a Judo dojo because he thought it was a sushi bar. Instead of chopsticks, he was handed a gi, and instead of miso soup, he got thrown on the mat by an 8-year-old with pigtails.
Confused but oddly inspired, Barry decided to stick around. That’s when the Sensei introduced him to the Three Cultures of Judo.
First was Rentai-ho – Physical Education.
Barry realised this was basically P.E. class without the sadistic parachute games. Here, he learned that Judo wasn’t just about learning how to fall (though he was now a world champion at that), but about understanding why he kept getting folded like a deckchair at the seaside. He discovered muscles he didn’t know existed—mainly because they were all screaming at once.
Next came Shushin-ho – Ethical and Character Development.
Barry figured this was about being a decent human while people threw him around. So, he started bowing respectfully, even when leaving Tesco, and saying “Osu!” when his neighbor asked him to put his bins out. He learned that real strength wasn’t in flattening your opponent, but in being humble enough to admit you’d been demolished by a teenager who still needed parental consent to compete.
Finally, Shobu-ho – Self-Defense and Competition.
This was Barry’s favourite. Not because he won anything—he didn’t. But because now, when life tried to throw him, he could at least roll out of it without smashing his nose on the pavement. He didn’t just learn how to defend himself against muggers—he learned how to defend himself against Monday mornings, flat tyres, and his mother-in-law’s cooking.
In the end, Barry realised Judo wasn’t about fighting other people. It was about learning to fight yourself—the lazy part, the selfish part, the “I’ll just sit here and eat crisps instead” part.
As Jigoro Kano said, Judo is “a method for personal cultural attainment.” Or as Barry translated it:
“Get fit, be nice, don’t get mugged.”
And so, through bruises, laughter, and the occasional ibuprofen, Barry discovered that the three cultures of Judo weren’t just for the mat—they were for life.

22/07/2025

🥋💍 HAPPY 2ND ANNIVERSARY TO NEIL & SHARNI LAKE 💍🥋

Two years married — and STILL no promotion for Neil.

They met at the legendary John Dearden Judo Club — where some go to train, some go to compete… and Neil just went to fall over in style. Sharni, meanwhile, was busy rising through the ranks like a dojo ninja, throwing opponents (and Neil’s ego) to the mat with her orange belt fury.

Neil claims he “let her throw him” that first night. Sharni says, “he tripped over his own belt.” Either way, it was love at first thud.

Their romance blossomed over bruised shins, shared water bottles, and long passionate talks about mat burns. When Neil finally plucked up the courage to ask Sharni out, he bowed, tried to kiss her, and headbutted her in the chin. Classic white belt move.

Now, two years in, they’re still going strong. Neil's still a white belt — mostly because he keeps forgetting to turn up or insists “grading is a capitalist construct.” Sharni, meanwhile, is probably three belts ahead but politely downplays it… until she wants the TV remote.

So here’s to Neil and Sharni — proof that love doesn’t care what colour your belt is, as long as you’re both willing to fall (and fall again) for each other.

May your throws be gentle, your tea always hot, and your future full of laughter, love, and slightly cleaner gis.

OSS and all that jazz – Happy Anniversary, you pair of tatami-waltzing legends! 🎉❤️👊

26/06/2025

Big shout out to my newest/longest Top fan! Robin Gell

🎉👏 Hats off to Robin 👏🎉
We're thrilled to celebrate absolute legend– Robin who have officially earned their place a Top Fan of the Remembering John Dearden club
Your unwavering support, brilliant banter, and thoughtful contributions help keep John's memory alive in the best way possible. Whether it's sharing stories, photos, or just keeping the spirit warm, you truly part of the heart and soul of this community.
Here’s to you, Robin – top fan, top person and an unforgettable massive part of the journey. ❤️🙌

25/06/2025

The Boy Who Walked Two Paths
Once upon a time in a quiet town nestled between mountains and meadows, there lived a boy named Arjun. From the moment he could walk, he had two passions: the thrill of learning and the discipline of judo. While other children might have chosen one path, Arjun’s heart beat for both.
Each morning, he wore a school uniform and carried a satchel filled with books. By afternoon, he changed into a crisp white gi, tied his belt with care, and bowed onto the tatami mats of the local dojo. The classroom sharpened his mind; the dojo molded his spirit.
Some didn’t understand. “Why not just focus on studies?” his uncle asked. “Or become a champion and forget the books!” others said. But Arjun smiled gently, never swayed. He believed the two paths were not separate—they were one.
At school, he learned of great thinkers, history’s lessons, and the wonders of science. These gave him perspective, reason, and a thirst to understand the world. In judo, he learned respect, resilience, and how to rise after every fall—not just on the mat, but in life.
One day, during a school competition, Arjun used the calm focus he had gained in judo to stay composed during a tough debate, winning top honors. Later that month, at a regional judo tournament, his mental agility—sharpened through education—helped him anticipate his opponent’s moves and secure victory.
As the years passed, Arjun grew into a young man of wisdom and strength. At his graduation, he wore a cap and gown on one side and his judo gi on the other—a symbol of the journey he had taken. In one hand, he carried a briefcase; in the other, the calluses of discipline.
Trophies lined his shelves—not just for academic achievement or judo victories, but for kindness, leadership, and mentorship. He became a teacher by day and a judo coach by evening, guiding the next generation to walk the same balanced path.
For Arjun had discovered a secret few ever do: true growth doesn’t come from choosing one path over another, but from walking both—hand in hand.
And so, the boy who once wore two uniforms became the man who wore two legacies—an inspiration to all who believe that mind and body, education and judo, together make the strongest force of all: character.

10/03/2025

Simon heard us loud and clear and sends the following!

Dear Judo Family,
Apologies for the fb silence this season. I assure you, the sun still shines, the barbies still sizzle, and the beaches remain as golden as ever. I've just been so busy perfecting my tan that I forgot to share the evidence.
To make amends, here's a few recent snaps, where the only thing cooler than the ocean breeze is the ice in my drink.
Sending you warm rays and sunny days from down under!
Cheers,
Simon

10/03/2025

Simon! , our mate in Australia, has failed in his annual duty of bombarding us with smug beach photos this winter. No golden sands, no BBQs by the ocean, not even a single ‘just another day in paradise’ selfie. NOTHING.

Meanwhile, here in England, we’re knee-deep in relentless grey skies, drizzle that soaks your soul, and daylight that lasts about 12 minutes.

Simon, if you can hear us—where are the photos of you basking in the sun while we shiver in our oversized jumpers? Where are the shots of crystal-clear waters while we stare at puddles that look like a scene from The Walking Dead?

If you don’t post at least ONE obnoxiously sunny picture soon, we’ll assume you’ve turned British and started complaining about the weather instead.

Do the right thing, mate. Our seasonal envy depends on it!

09/03/2025

https://gb-judo-community.com/british-schools-judo-championships-2025/?fbclid=IwY2xjawI6RERleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHUQGInEsyPEP9sz1N5DKJbR5YjdRIrKHr9kLgQmlmSSEmjj4yDm7qrkFTg_aem_NU1cirpNn6PHp7SrKyVeCw

09/02/2025

"Survived years of judo, earned a black belt, took hits that would make a rhino wince… but man flu? Man flu has me tapping out like a rookie in a chokehold. Send tissues and sympathy."

24/01/2025

https://www.britishjudo.org.uk/2025-contest-rules-to-be-implemented-from-22nd-february/

Following approval by the BJA, the International Judo Federation’s 2025 contest rules will be adopted, with limited adaptations for younger judoka, at all British events effective from 22nd February 2025,...