I like coffee. In particular, I enjoy a half-sweet vanilla latte. Some days I enjoy a simple 12 oz. latte with two shots. Other days, maybe feeling a bit rundown, I’ll splurge on a 16 oz. latte with 3-4 shots. Yet through my travels, my coffee habit (see also: addiction) tends to wax and wane. In Alaska and Seattle, I grew addicted to morning lattes. Maybe it was the weather (anything to warm you up), but really it came down to the coffee cultures in both. Lots and lots of convenient and good options.
When we moved to Atlanta, I ceased drinking lattes except on rare occasions. Why? A lack of good and convenient options. And I’m not counting the Starbucks on every corner of every city in the US. As much as I love coffee, I won’t bother if my options are nothing more than a chain. In my travels, though, I’ve found great coffee options no matter where I’m at – California, Cincinnati, Canada, and even Connecticut. Sometimes, though, it takes a bit of digging. Other times…way too many options (like I should complain about that).
I learned that coffee shops tend to fall into three broad categories. Option 1: Starbucks and wannabe Starbucks or maybe even “proudly serving Starbucks.” Uniforms, aprons, and glass encased mass-produced pastries. A certain corporatized aesthetic that screams “franchise.” You know the coffee won’t be great, but it won’t be horrible. Maybe a midgrade experience. Option 2: The coffee snob’s coffee shop. Stark white or concrete interior. Not a lot of seating. Few decorations. Probably meant to mirror grabbing a cappuccino in Italy where you belly-up to the counter, toss down your drink, and talk about the weather with Giovanni before heading out for the day. No flavors except maybe simple syrup. Either the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had or (more likely) not great. Option 3: A hole in the wall place packed with second-hand sofas and local art. They roast their own beans or buy locally. Near the bathrooms a community board brims with advertisements for local bands, writing groups, lost pets, and every festival you can imagine. You’ll find your favorite barista and they’ll whip up your order as they ask about your dog (or cat). Almost always, the coffee will be great.
Of course there are exceptions. Of course we all have our personal preferences. Of course some coffee shops buck the trend. Yet I’ve found a correlation to how the coffee shop portrays itself to how the coffee will be. Maybe scratching a little deeper, it’s part of the overall business design. A Starbucks (or wannabe) wants to formalize their product. A coffee snob’s coffee shop probably expects you to pick up on the hints of juniper and lemon that any flavoring would hide. A hole in the wall wants you to hangout and feel at home. To each their own. I just know what tends to work for me and where I tend to find a latte that warms my soul.
The same for BJJ schools. I’ve discovered (for me) the 5 Cs of initially evaluating BJJ gyms.
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C #1: Cobrinha Statement
Ruben Charles Maciel or Cobrinha is considered one of the best BJJ featherweight competitors of all-time. He’s won IBJJF Worlds five times. He’s won ADCC three times. He’s won IBJJF No-Gi Worlds four times. He’s won IBJJF Pans four times. He’s won IBJJF Euros two times. Finally, he’s won IBJJF Brazilian Nationals one time. This is without mentioning any other amazing matches or his coaching accolades.
Yet if he introduced himself – besides being confused you didn’t know who he was already – he’d probably lead with winning the Super Grand Slam in 2017 (winning IBJJF Worlds, Pans, Euros, and Brazilian Nationals, but also ADCC). To his mind, this is probably his greatest individual BJJ achievement. The first to do it and only one of two athletes (as of writing this) to reach this accomplishment. Essentially a year of winning every major tournament in BJJ or submission grappling. Working through injuries. Eking out win after win. Not giving up on the dream. Staying dedicated and disciplined. Gold after gold after gold after gold after gold against some of the best in their division.
Despite all the accomplishments Cobrinha could lead with, this is probably what he’s most known for or at least what he values of all his accomplishments (for good reason). The same goes for just about every BJJ school and particularly coaches of that school.
Schools and coaches always lead with their “biggest” accomplishment (in reference to martial arts/BJJ). Sometimes it’s decades of experience. Other times, like Cobrinha, an impressive competition record. Maybe it’s their lineage. Or maybe they have a well-rounded knowledge of martial arts.
Whatever it may be, it’s pretty easy to ascertain what a school or coach emphasizes. Why? They lead with it. They put their best foot forward. If it’s a fairly competitive school, they’ll probably talk about competition results or frequent participation or team titles. If they are more self-defense oriented, they might discuss the roots of jiu-jitsu for that purpose. If they are big on the community aspect, that’s going to be front and center somewhere on their social media or webpage.
Which gets us to what I first look for. I go to schools’ webpages (if they have one) or their social media (Instagram, Facebook, etc.) and notice what they portray. Are there lots and lots of pictures of smiling kiddos? This probably means they have a strong kids’ program and are family-oriented. Are there a bunch of pictures of folks with medals or standing on podiums? That probably means they emphasize competition. Do they post a lot of sweaty dudes with no shirts on flexing for the camera? Well…that’s probably the vibe.
If I’m still not sure or maybe their school doesn’t have a robust social media presence (when traveling through the middle of nowhere, this happens), I dig a little deeper. I read through coach or instructor bios and notice their Cobrinha statement(s). What do they lead with? Experience? Lineage? Competition accolades? Philosophy? What exactly seems to be the reason for this coach or instructor to continue to be part of the martial art? I’m not necessarily judging anyone, but I am searching for what to expect before setting foot on their mats.
Which leads me to the four main categories I tend to notice.
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C #2: Community
Vibes are everything. If you’re going to spend hours and hours at some place, it’s pretty tough it simply isn’t your cup of tea. The good thing about the growth of jiu-jitsu is that, in all likelihood, there’s a gym that fits your vibe and there’re folks that enjoy the tea you’d never order. To each their own.
What do I mean by vibes? Essentially the community – the people, the leaders, the overall feel of a gym. Are they welcoming? Does it seem like folks are friendly with each other? Is this a place you want to frequent and not feel like you’re crashing a party? Do you feel safe training there? Are people supporting each other’s training goals and needs? Do you feel you can be yourself and “vibe” with the gym as a whole? Fundamentally, is this a place you could spend a bunch of time sweating, training, and socializing (even in passing…pun intended)?
How does one even assess vibes, though? It goes back to the Cobrinha statement – it’s how a gym portrays itself on their website or social media. Does a school show smiling folks of all sizes, ages, genders, and abilities? Does the school emphasize off-mat events like holiday festivities, competition watch parties, and the like? Are they involved with the wider local community? Do they celebrate off-mat wins – a marriage, a new business, a birth, a graduation, competing in non-BJJ events? These are all signs that a school has a strong sense of community.
Inversely, does their website feel like you’ve stumbled into some shadowy part of the dark web? Is their social media full of growling dudes talking about warriors in a garden or sharks in the ocean? Do they highlight only one or two competitors (likely the head instructor and their immediate family)? Or does the gym lack any sort of personality at all – just a basic website and a mostly abandoned social media page?
Fundamentally, what exactly is the gym trying to portray to the world or potential customers? Who are they trying to attract and are you that demographic (or want to be)? And that’s without even stepping in the door.
Community erases a lot of “faults.” It can attract the right people, someone that can fill some of the gaps. If your community is great (and you show it)…you’re going to attract talent and it’s going to be known as a gym that people want to train at. Which is a lot better than the alternative.
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C #3: Cults
No gyms have a perfect community. Some get close or close for you (or me or your buddy Jimmy). Different strokes for different folks.
At a gym with no sense of community (or a toxic one), you can have all the talent in the world, but it’s going to be hard to retain them. Often that talent leaves when it’s convenient for them. It will be a transactional gym devoid of consistency. Some days the mats will be full. Other days it’s a ghost town. People won’t be there to see their buddies. They’re there for the rolls (at best) before heading to the next gym. Everyone feels like they’re just passing through or it’s all clueless white belts that pick up the hints that there are better gyms out there.
There are a ton of ways to flag a cultish gym – absolute authority, discouragement of cross-training and criticism, becoming involved in students’ personal affairs, us vs. them mentality, pressure to buy products or services beyond basic membership fees, isolation of members from non or former members, along with a bevy of others. The thing that no one admits, though, is that all gyms have some of these features. Maybe it’s something like a dress code or the head instructor is naturally charismatic. One flag doesn’t mean the gym is toxic or a cult. Yet once the flags pile up, you might need to start thinking about turning in your robes before being asked to drink the Kool-Aid.
For me, being a traveling black belt that has been around the block a little, I pick up on different cues of a toxic or cultish gym. It all starts with the website or social media. Do they emphasize “loyalty” or “family” (like Dom Toretto from The Fast and Furious) a little too much? Is there a sense of “us” vs “them”? Do they belittle other gyms, especially gyms in the same city or area? Do they denigrate techniques and styles they don’t teach? Do they try to come across as the “best” even though there’s no demonstrable proof that they’re indeed better than the average gym? Do they lean into lineage more than tangible results from their students or instructors? Do they talk about the “sanctity” and “purity” of the art? It’s like the used car salesman trying too hard to sell you the Ford Pinto. If a gym leans too much on intangibles and not reviews or results, something starts to smell fishy.
What really gets my alarm bells ringing is what I refer to as the “local legend.” Essentially it’s a black belt/gym owner that has grown into some sort of regional folk hero. The students practically worship the ground the instructor(s) walk on. Don’t get me wrong, there are some coaches out there worth the hype (ahem, Gui Mendes, ahem). Some places have built a wonderful community that reflects the nature of the head coach/owner. Yet too many gyms benefit from their students’ naivety. The students are in awe of the black belt that’s been smashing them all for years. They treat him (usually a him) like some sort of god. Untouchable and unquestionable. As a traveling black belt, I can feel this vibe immediately. I’ve been around world champions. I’ve trained at elite schools. I know the difference between a Ferrari and a Ford Pinto.
Whether it’s through social media, the gym’s website, or in-person, it’s clear everything is about the black belt and maybe one or two of their folks (usually family members – their wife, their kid, etc.). There’s no room for anyone else or their goals. As a traveling black belt, these gyms always get my hackles up because I know every roll against the instructor (and their inner circle) will be to the death. God forbid I (or anyone) gets the better of them. Ideas and techniques will be withheld (unless you want to pay for an overpriced and half-assed private lesson). Ego runs rampant throughout the gym, although many times their level of success flounders at the local level (if that). Quite simply, you either kiss the ring or you’re left out in the cold. No thanks.
I understand there’s a delicate balance between a gym owner and their students. A gym owner wants folks to train at their gym. Part of that attraction is demonstrating you know what it takes to be successful in some capacity and continue to keep up with an ever-evolving sport. As a student, you want to train under someone that knows what they’re talking about and has accomplished what you’re seeking. Yet there needs to be room for the students and their goals. Not an easy balance.
For too many gym owners, though, it’s all about what they want or need. Most of the year “training up for a competition”? Who is running the classes? When do the students benefit from your experience? Traveling all over the world teaching seminars or recording instructionals? When do the students get to learn that content?
As a customer or client of a gym, I want my jiu-jitsu to benefit from attending classes there. I’m not there to stoke the ego of some random black belt. I’m there for my goals and my own progression. I would hope that every other student or member is in the same boat. We aren’t there to worship some random upper/black belt. We’re there to benefit from the teaching, coaching, and guidance of the instructors. Sometimes that’s tied to the instructor/owner’s success – knowing what it takes to be a world champion, etc. – yet at some point it should be about what the students are getting out of the relationship. It should be about the students’ success. Why else are we spending our money on gym dues? To be a grappling dummy for the head coach? No thanks.
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C #4: Competition
Maybe we have different filters for evaluating gyms, but I still fashion myself as a competitor. Or at least was a frequent competitor throughout the colored belts. I still enjoy training with the idea that what I’m working on should hold up to competition standards. That means being able to pass and sweep and maintain pins until securing a submission. I also believe in continuously evolving and keeping abreast with the latest BJJ innovations that manifest at the highest stages of the sport. In other words, I think competing is an important part of BJJ.
When evaluating gyms, I tend to gravitate towards places that value competing. They can list their competition successes. Even better, they can show their students’ successes. Are a multitude of folks placing or winning a variety of competitions? Is the school sending quite a few students to local tournaments? Are a few of the more driven students or instructors training up for major competitions? How do they generally do? It’s okay if they aren’t winning gold, but is it competitive? Are they moving up the podium year after year? Are they taking the losses in stride and working to improve for next time and the time after that and not just individually, but as a group?
Not that I expect gyms to be full of gold medalists, but I appreciate a healthy competition mindset. Pushing each other to get better and hit our goals. A group of us hopping in a car and driving to the local IBJJF Open. Cheering each other on, no matter the final outcome. Willing to put in the extra credit work to get better outside of normal class times. Gym owners or instructors that give the freedom for the more driven athletes to thrive.
Not every school can be an AOJ. I get that. Yet they can emulate that success by putting themselves out there on the competition mats, taking what they learned, and constantly striving for perfection. Studying and implementing what the “best” are doing – training modalities, techniques, etc. (not including PEDs). The work ethic is beyond the norm. Beyond mindlessly showing up to class, getting a few rolls in, and then disappearing until next time.
In other words, I look for gyms full of people working to be The Man in the Arena.
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C #5: “Competition”
Just like cult gyms are community gyms gone wrong, “competition” gyms are competition gyms gone wrong.
A lot of gyms fashion themselves as competitive. Really, though, what’s the alternative? For some gyms, this works in their favor (see: community). For many, admitting they aren’t a competitively successful gym leaves a bitter taste in their mouths. Instead, these gyms tend to overcompensate. This is what I term “competition” gyms. In other words, I’m really leaning into those quotation marks.
These gyms seem like a fairly standard competition gym. They have a bunch of classes and folks roll hard or intensely. They probably have a few so-called competitors and likely offer a competition-style class (however defined). There are a bunch of scary looking folks on the mats, usually eyeballing drop-ins like a scene in a spaghetti western. They refer to each other as “killers” or “monsters” or similar terms. “Jimmy is an absolute killer.” “Sarah is a total monster.” They hold an open mat a couple of times a week and it’s invite only or known for being tough and rough. Not so bad, right?
Here’s the kicker – no one does all that well at competitions (to include MMA). In the words of Seinfeld, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” The problem, though, is they have a million excuses. They don’t like this or that ruleset. They’re always getting screwed over by refs. They’re always injured. Although none of these excuses keep them from self-proclaiming how good they are. “I would’ve…” “I could’ve…” Nor does it stop these guys from cranking submissions or rolling like it’s the finals of an ADCC on anyone that walks in that door, including their own teammates.
For me, after training at one of the premier competition schools (AOJ), I know what a good competition school should be doing (or emulating). I know what a well ran competition class looks like. I know what healthy passion feels like. I know how to tiptoe that line between intensity and keeping each other healthy and safe. I know what it means to prioritize competition wins over class “wins.” I’ve seen what it takes to be on top of the podium over and over again.
When a gym is more about appearances, talk, and shirtless pictures after class with almost no results, that’s a “competition” school. When a gym is more worried about winning on social media and in the gym – their bodies and partners’ bodies be damned – they’re a “competition” school. If a gym’s solution for competitive disappointment is excuses and “more hard rounds,” they’re a “competition” school. If your claim to fame is “trust me bro, we’re killers” and you either don’t compete or are always going home after the first round because (reasons), you’re a “competition” school.
I don’t want to come across as elitist. I know not every place can be an AOJ. Yet I also see a lot of gyms that fashion themselves as total badasses and yet they possess no tangible results to back these claims. Instead, it’s the sort of gym that feels more like a Fight Club than a gym helping you hit those (lofty) competition goals. For me, being 140 lbs and 40+ years old, I say “no thanks” to those sorts of gyms. I have nothing to prove. I’m fully aware I’m small and old and beat up from life and this sport. Yet somehow I keep going and somehow I’m able to train 2+ times a day and compete fairly often (with good results). One trick…avoiding these “competition” schools.
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Not everyone has the same filters for a jiu-jitsu school. Considerations like distance, class times, Gi vs No Gi ratios, and…can all play a factor for you. Whenever I move, though, I don’t like to waste time (or risk my body) trying out every possible gym in the area. Instead, I look to see how they portray their business. Who are the clientele they’re trying to attract and (frankly) am I in that demographic (or want to be)? To understand that, I dig through their website and social media to find their Cobrinha statements. In other words, how do they present themselves to the world.
Of course I visit schools and lean into the free classes to evaluate whether I’m a good fit for them and vice versa. Of course I see whether a gym corresponds to how they portray themselves online. Many times it’s fairly accurate. Other times maybe the mats are empty and the only pictures you see online are when it’s a special occasion. Or maybe the instructors/owners say all the right things on their website, but the reality is quite different. That happens, but at the least I can narrow down from the initial red flags.
Nonetheless, I recommend sitting down and thinking about how you initially evaluate a gym. What goals you have and what sort of gyms tend to align with those objectives. Inversely, think about how you portray your gym online and what sort of folks that might attract. Is that who you want? Are they aligned with your gym’s goals? Many times goals change over time. One thing, though, that tends to stay constant is finding a place with a solid community that you can (or want to) fit into. That much I can’t emphasize enough.