The Man with a Briefcase
Share
90-second read
A while back, I listened to a podcast where the person being interviewed was judo legend, Neil Adams.
Back in the 80’s, as part of their training camp before the Olympics, Adams and the GB Team would go to Japan for training at the local dojos.
He tells the story of a session where a local office worker showed up during his lunch break, wearing a suit and tie and carrying a briefcase. He got changed into his judo gi, joined the British team for randori, and proceeded to throw them one after another.
These were world-class judoka preparing for the Olympics.
Then, after dismantling the entire team, the man got changed back into his suit, tightened his tie, picked up his briefcase, and went back to the office.
As if he’d just popped out for a sandwich.
A few weeks later, some of those GB team members won medals at the Olympic Games. And somewhere out there, was a regular guy, with his briefcase, just living his daily life.
It’s the idea that there are unsung local practitioners who will never reach the world stage, and on their day, can still shock elite national team members.
I guess this illustrates that great talent often exists quietly, without fame, recognition, or medals.
And this is not unique to judo.
You may have sat next to someone like that on a train, worked with them, or passed them in the street, with absolutely no idea what they were capable of.
But there’s a graveyard out there full of people who we will never know about, who were talented, and just carried on with their lives and never tried to chase fame or global titles.