Coach Epps

Take a good look at who’s sitting at your table.

Those people have a way of shaping who you become.

When I look around mine, I see some of the most capable people I’ve ever known—and, more importantly, some of the best human beings I’ve ever known.

Damn grateful for this Tribe.

I’ve spent more than 20 years in Sayoc Kali.

And after all that time, I’m still finding layers in things I thought I understood years ago.

Sayoc changed the way I look at martial arts. It taught me to question what I’m training, why I’m training it, whether it actually solves the problem—and whether it deserves to be passed on to the people who trust me to teach them.

But more than anything, it was the people.

I’ve been fortunate to have some exceptional people invest their time in me, challenge me, push me well outside my comfort zone, and eventually trust me to carry a piece of what they built forward.

That’s not something I take lightly.

I finally sat down and wrote about some of it.

Our Roots Part 9: Sayoc Kali

Twenty-plus years is hard to fit into one article, but this is a piece of the story.

Know where you came from. Remember who helped get you there. Carry it well. And when it’s your turn, pass it forward.

10K Hands.

Our Roots: Sayoc Kali Discover how Sayoc Kali, its lineage, Feeder mindset, and training methodology have shaped G**o Jason Epps and the curriculum at Pride MMA

Day of training. The original custom Sayoc-Winkler RnD hawk trainer with the micro woodburn markings and one of the OG Headhunter Blades “Rat” trainer and live by Sayoc Tuhon Harley Elmore, which was featured in the books. #sayoctuhonraf #jackcarr #jamesreecetheterminallist #originaltuhon #theartoftheblade

Anybody else give likes to stuff they disagree with?

I do it all the time.

Especially on YouTube.

Sometimes I’ll read a comment and think:

“I disagree with almost every damn word of this…”

…and still hit like.

Because agreement isn’t the only thing I value.

Maybe you made a point I hadn’t considered.

Maybe you presented your argument well.

Maybe you forced me to look at something from an angle I hadn’t thought about.

Maybe you made me laugh.

Or maybe you were so impressively wrong that I had to respect the craftsmanship. 😂

To me, a like can mean:

“You’re right.”

But it can also mean:

“Well played.”

“That made me think.”

“I’m going to have to chew on that one.”

Or…

“Well, s**t. Now I have to rethink something I was perfectly comfortable believing five minutes ago.”

That deserves a like.

Not a membership application to your cult.

Just a like.

Anybody else?

There are moments as a coach when you get to stand back and see exactly what years of hard work have built.

Congratulations to G**o Jessi on earning Associate Instructor Level 2 in Sayoc Kali.

I’ve watched Jessi put in a tremendous amount of work over the years. I’ve watched her train through the hard days, take the corrections, chase the details, step up as an instructor, and continue giving back to the people around her.

And anyone who knows Sayoc understands that these ranks are not casually handed out.

There are no freebies.

There is no “you’ve been here long enough.”

There is no participation trophy hiding at the end of the road.

You earn it.

The standards are high because they’re supposed to be high. You’re being trusted with knowledge, with responsibility, and eventually with the job of passing those things on to someone else.

G**o Jessi has proven herself worthy of that trust.

She is also a Full Instructor under Tuhon Harley Elmore, and I can’t really put into words how good it feels to watch one of my students continue to grow and then be recognized by instructors I respect.

That’s one of the great rewards of coaching.

You spend years pushing people, correcting them, challenging them, expecting more from them, and occasionally being the pain in the ass they probably didn’t ask for...

Then one day you get to stand back and watch other people recognize exactly what you’ve seen developing in them all along.

That part never gets old.

Jessi deserves this.

Not because someone gave her a rank.

Because she earned the right to wear it.

Proud of you, G**o Jessi.

Very proud.

Now keep going.

This one hits me a little harder than most.

Congratulations to Koal Manis on earning his promotion to Apprentice Instructor in Sayoc Kali.

Koal has been training with me since he was old enough to crawl.

I’ve watched this young man grow up on the mats.

I’ve watched him struggle.

I’ve watched him improve.

I’ve watched him put in the hours when nobody was clapping for him.

And somewhere along the way, the little kid I was teaching became a man I am genuinely proud to stand beside.

Koal is a dedicated student, a relentless worker, and a phenomenal instructor.

But more than any of that, he’s one of the best humans you’ll ever meet.

He gives back.

He takes care of people.

He respects where he came from.

And he understands that earning knowledge comes with a responsibility to help carry it forward.

The Manis family has been part of my martial arts family for a long time. Every member of that family has earned a Black Belt under me, and there is a lot of sweat, history, loyalty, and shared miles behind that sentence.

Koal has carried that legacy forward while building something of his own.

He recently became a full instructor under Tuhon Harley Elmore of Warrior’s Way, and now this promotion marks another important step in his journey.

Ranks matter.

Accomplishments matter.

But after doing this as long as I have, I’ve learned that the real reward of coaching isn’t hanging another belt around somebody’s waist or adding another title before their name.

It’s watching a kid you’ve poured into become the kind of man you’d trust to pour into somebody else.

That’s Koal.

And damn, I’m proud of him.

Congratulations, Koal.

You earned this one.

Now keep going.

I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this one 😅

The Fire Never Belongs to One Person

Every year at Sayoc Sama Sama, after a full day of training, we gather around a bonfire.

I’ve stood around that fire for more than 22 years.

And every year, it teaches me something new.

Not because the fire changes.

Because I do.

Twenty-two years ago, I thought I was looking at a fire.

I was really looking at a lineage.

Then the fire is lit.

The drumming begins.

The tribe gathers.

The Sayaw begins.

For thousands of years, fire has been more than warmth. It’s where people gathered to remember, to teach, to honor those who came before them, and to prepare those who would come after. Around the fire, stories become history, history becomes culture, and culture becomes responsibility.

Standing there each year, it’s hard not to feel the weight of that.

Within Sayoc, one of the principles we hold closest is 10,000 Hands.

“When I draw my blade, 10,000 hands draw it with me.”

Those aren’t just words.

They’re a reminder.

Every technique we practice…

Every lesson we receive…

Every principle we pass on…

Exists because someone before us chose to preserve it.

Someone dedicated years of their life to it.

Someone accepted the responsibility to carry it until it was their turn to pass it on.

Knowledge like this survives because generation after generation refused to let it die.

That’s why lineage matters.

Not because it’s old.

Because it was earned.

In Sayoc, we often talk about a blade pass.

Most people think of it as the safe and respectful way we physically pass a blade from one person to another.

It is.

But it’s also much more.

Every blade pass says the same thing without a single word.

I trust you with what was entrusted to me.

Not just the blade.

The knowledge.

The standards.

The responsibility.

That’s a heavy thing to place in another person’s hands.

It should be.

As I stood around the fire this year, I realized I wasn’t just watching a tradition.

I was watching a blade pass.

Knowledge.

Responsibility.

Trust.

Being passed from one generation to the next.

That’s what keeps the fire burning.

One thing I’ve always appreciated is that the fire doesn’t happen on its own.

Long before the tribe gathers, a small Fire Team quietly goes to work. They gather the wood, prepare the site, and make sure everything is ready.

Most people will never see that part.

Somehow, that feels fitting.

Some of the most important work in a tribe is done long before anyone notices.

I’ve been fortunate to attend Sayoc Sama Sama for more than 22 years.

The training has sharpened me.

The people have shaped me.

But every year, it’s the fire that reminds me why I keep coming back.

I used to think I came here to collect knowledge.

Now I realize I’m here to help carry it.

The fire never belongs to one person.

Neither does the knowledge.

Neither does the responsibility.

We’re simply one set of hands in a much longer chain.

Our responsibility is to honor what we’ve been given, add to it through our own experience, and make sure that when it’s our turn to make the next blade pass, we leave the person receiving it stronger than we found them.

Because one day…

When someone else draws their blade…

10,000 hands will draw it with them.

And if we’ve done our job well…

Ours will be among them.