“Breathe: A Life in Flow”

By Rickson Gracie

Rev. by Robert Drysdale

June 26, 2022

The story of Rickson’s life through jiu-jitsu in many ways parallels the story of a mythical hero. From an aggressive youth surrounded by other warriors who saw in warfare a means for status and turf dominance; to the trials of maintaining this dominance through war; to the political landscape as it develops alongside the hero’s victories; from the heights of popularity to the trials of the falls the hero must undergo; and finally, to the calm that follows the end of every storm.

His life is also symbolic of the spread of jiu-jitsu from a distinctive tough-guy cultural phenomenon of the carioca south-zone (a unique combination of Kodokan Judo, vale-tudo and the Gracie patrician-turned-warrior-ethos) to its current cultural and technical softening that allowed jiu-jitsu to grow beyond this uniquely Brazilian practice into the global fever we are currently witnessing. What is perhaps most surprising about Rickson’s autobiography, is that it wasn’t written sooner. 

Rickson Gracie was first described to me, when I was a white belt, as a mythical hero indeed. Invincible, confident, superior to all mortals and whose feats were the blueprint of immortality. He was the prodigy of a long-held family tradition whose culmination was the perfection and invincibility of jiu-jitsu manifested in its most prized son. “Breathe,” is the (surprisingly) open and revealing account of these life trials. Highs and lows are the marks of his life as well as of his autobiography.

The book opens with the story of the “Gracie Clan” from Scotland to Brazil. Where co-author Peter Maguire tells the story of a Gracie Brigadier General who fought alongside General Robert Lee in the American Civil War but didn’t make it to the end of the conflict. The episode has no apparent direct connection to the Gracie family in Brazil (pages 2 and 3). It continues with the oral tradition in the family of Carlos’ early introduction to jiu-jitsu in Belém do Pará in the Brazilian Amazon all the way to the establishment of the clan as a dominant martial-arts family in Rio de Janeiro (pages 4 till end of the chapter). Later, the most dominant family in the history of all sports, even beyond martial-arts.

On both these episodes, “Breathe” would have benefited from the inclusion of primary sources to give it substance and historical credibility. These sources are virtually unknown in the jiu-jitsu community, but are published and readily available here. Unfortunately, this section of "Breathe" repeats and perpetuates many already debunked myths regarding, for example, the (grossly exaggerated) role that Maeda played in the history of BJJ, and various episodes in the early days of Carlos and the Gracie family in Belém and later Rio. This history is incredible as it is and no exaggerations, omissions, or distortions are necessary. In the case of the history of jiu-jitsu, reality is far more interesting than its more artistic expressions.

The course of the book follows Rickson’s life in the family and their internal disputes, rivalries and competitiveness amongst themselves. His early disputes with his brother Rorion, his admiration for his brother-cousin Rolls (as well as the profound impact he had on Rickson’s jiu-jitsu); his early hustles as an aspiring Gracie Champion; his passion for surf, women and a Gracie like diet; his two fights with Zulu; his relationship to Royce and Rorion in the early days of the UFC; his aspirations to conquer the land of the rising-sun; the dynamics of events that would eventually elevate Rickson to mythical proportions and the loss of his son Rockson; and finally his search for internal peace after a turbulent life of accomplishments and heavy losses.

At times, “Breathe” rivals Reila’s biography of her father Carlos in terms of its sincerity and willingness to open the family’s internal history books. Such as Rickson’s admittance to early drug-use, gang adherence, womanizing and other behavior typical of a young male out to prove himself to the world. At others times, the lines between truth-telling and exaggeration for self-advancement aren’t always clear, such as when Rickson claimed to be defeating Rolls towards the end of his life, something both his cousins Robson and Crólin vehemently deny (the interview with Robson will be published subsequently and the one with Crólin on this issue can be found here). The comments are also atypical as they violate the unwritten code of conduct of not commenting what happens behind closed doors (something the biography does on multiple occasions, perhaps to grant Rickson further credibility, something he does not require). Although, in the name of history, exceptions can perhaps be made.

Also worthy of note, is Rickson’s rivalry with the luta-livre crowd in Rio. Of particular interest, the section where Rickson went to the luta-livre headquarters in Rio to challenge Marco Ruas. According to Rickson, Marco refused because he wanted time to prepare. Both their versions of this story differ significantly. The testimony of Marco Ruas and Eugênio Tadeu can be seen here). The reader can decide for themselves. That same episode eventually led to Rickson fighting luta-livre representative Hugo Duarte on the Pepê beach in a new famed and viral internet video.

“Breathe” is also remarkable in that it makes clear Rickson’s views on the IBJJF in general and his disagreements with his cousin and former training partner Carlinhos, the godfather of contemporary jiu-jitsu. His criticisms on this have been voiced elsewhere as well and have become a constant talking point for Rickson. Truth be told, he has a fair point, much of competitive jiu-jitsu has drifted too far from the reality of combat. On the other hand, unmentioned in the book is the fact that Rickson’s father Helio (another vocal critique of the current jiu-jitsu ruleset) was the one who created the ruleset through the Guanabara Federation founded in 1967 because he was the one presiding over it. Despite the “advantages” having been invented by CBJJ/IBJJF [circa 1998 according to IBJJF representative André Fernandes], the overall framework of the ruleset is the same one in which Rickson made a name for himself in the 80’s and early 90’s in Rio.

The lows in the book in general are: its lack of sources, the insistent attempts at associating Rickson with Samurais and Bushido codes and the occasional drift into making a connection between Rickson and supernatural forces of nature that would be assisting him in his quest towards greatness. But perhaps the biggest bummer in the book, is how it skips rapidly from topic to topic, sometimes from paragraph to paragraph. Overall, the book reads as rushed as if it intended to tell all aspects of a very rich and dense history in as few pages as possible. Understandably perhaps, this is a struggle all contemporary writers have to deal with in the age of attention deficit disorder.

Rickson’s story shines when he vividly depicts his challenge against Hawaiian surfer Byron Amona who broke Rickson's friend Foca’s surf-board and needed to learn a lesson in respect when visiting new turf (ironically, a lesson Hawaiians are notorious for teaching to outsiders) as well as his eagerness to fight Zulu twice, first at the young age of 19 in 1980 and then again in 1983, and the difficulty of facing such a specimen in his first vale-tudo fight. Also of interest are his acquaintance with Orlando Cani (the true father of “Ginástica Natural”) and how he impacted Rickson’s views on physiology and overall health, particularly as they related to the connection between body and mind in the life of a fighter.

In general, the openness of “Breathe” does not meet the level of Reila’s biography of her father, but it comes close. On occasion it makes minor historical errors such as: the weight of Waldemar Santana and Kimura or the year in which Carlson Gracie defeated Waldemar to avenge his uncle Helio; and the claim that Rickson is a jiu-jitsu world-champion.  (Although certainly the most dominant competitor of his era, historical accuracy must point to the fact that he never competed in the world-championships.) As a whole, Rickson’s autobiography would have benefited tremendously by becoming acquainted with the scholarship on the topic of jiu-jitsu that has become available in recent years.

In terms of Rickson’s fighting career, the books does a remarkable job at aggrandizing his opponents, even the ones that had little to no fighting experience whatsoever such as Japanese Pro-Wrestlers Yoji Anjo and Nobuhiko Takada. When, if we are to be pragmatic and objective, the highlights of Rickson’s fighting career were his first and last vale-tudo fights: Zulu and Funaki. Zulu, because despite being an unskilled fighter by today’s standards, he was aggressive and physically powerful while Rickson was still a very young and inexperienced adult male who displayed on that day the kind of courage and commitment that only exceptional humans have. As for Funaki, despite never being an elite MMA/vale-tudo fighter, he was an experienced Pancrase practitioner who posed a serious threat to Rickson, who in turn, was no longer a pup.

It is rather ironic that Rickson’s greatest moments in his fighting career (the toughest ones at least) were his first and last. In the first, in 1980, he was not a fully developed fighter and had no previous vale-tudo experience. And then again in 1997, 1998, and 2000 when he was no longer in his physical prime. The great irony is perhaps best described by the jiu-jitsu historian Roberto Pedreira when in 1984, Rickson put his student Marcelo Behring to fight Muay-Thai practitioner and jiu-jitsu nemesis Flávio Molina, instead of fighting himself: “[in this event] Marcelo Behring took his first step in the direction of immortality and Rickson Gracie lost another opportunity to establish himself as Brazil’s greatest vale-tudo fighter of all time” (Choque 3, page 233).

According to all accounts, Rickson was a "phenom" on the mats. Despite that, his overall record of challenges does not do his reputation justice.  Rickson’s best years weren’t maximized to the fullest and given his status and reputation, he could have fought more and better opponents. On the other hand, what if he had lost? Which, against men such as Marco Ruas, Mark Coleman, Mark Kerr and Kazushi Sakuraba, he may well have. What then?

The question of Rickson’s invincibility is a common topic in jiu-jitsu circles. How good is (or was) he after all? Once, while in friendly conversation with Sergio Penha (whom I have tried to interview multiple times and to no avail), the man who almost defeated Rickson until the Gracie prodigy turned the tide with seconds left and finished Sergio with a choke. (A victory made seemingly even more impressive by the fact Rickson’s son had just been born and he, Rickson, was barely sleeping, according to himself.) Sergio is refreshingly humble and sincere about what was probably the highlight of his own career: “It was overall good for jiu-jitsu that I lost. Jiu-jitsu needs an undefeated hero.”

Regardless of what one thinks of Rickson’s overall career and challenges, no one can deny that he was an immensely useful marketing tool for jiu-jitsu and remains so. Something we all benefit from. I know I do. Unfortunately, the best version of Rickson was only seen behind closed doors and names such as Carlson, Roger, Royler, Kyra, Kron (Rickson’s younger son) and Royce will go down as the most accomplished members of the Gracie clan. Even if some of them claim that Rickson was better than themselves, the factual record tells a different story. As Brazilians often say “treino é treino” (training is training).

Rickson is most sincere when he lovingly talks about his role as a son, husband, father and brother. The trials his family faced in the upbringing Rockson, who so desperately wanted to fill into his father’s shoes and the tragic death that followed it, are perhaps the highlight of the book. It is in this most difficult period that Rickson’s pain and sincere struggles to overcome it are not only vivid and emotional, but became (speaking for myself at least) the true mark of Rickson’s strength as a fighter and human. In these moments, a true hero shines its brightest.

After all, it is one thing to fight a monster like Zulu; defeat a Hawaiian surfer; punch a pro-wrestler to near death because he had the audacity to challenge you inside your own academy. But these trials pale in comparison to the more mature Rickson who condemns drug-use, gang adherence, street-fighting and who sees jiu-jitsu’s greatest benefit not as a tool for the bully (or even against it), but rather a vehicle for life and overcoming its most dreadful challenges.

Heroes are crafted by the trials they face. As an idealistic old man taught me once, “a man is as great as the trials he chooses to face in life.” Some trials we can run at and face bravely, as when Rickson fought Zulu or when defended his family honor when he saw fit. At others we can ponder the consequences and the overall benefits of such challenges. No one is obligated to be fierce and valiant every day of their lives, not even Rickson. 

Ultimately, Rickson much like Achilles, chose a life of war, but unlike Achilles, he was granted eternity without having to die in battle. Whether he had a weak heel or not, we will never know and the debate will survive his death. Maybe Sergio was right: "Jiu-jitsu needs an undefeated hero."

　(c) 2022, Robert Drysdale. All rights reserved.

More by Robert Drysdale:

ADCC's Blind Spot

How to Win at Jiu-Jitsu while Keeping BJJ Real

Creonte: Loyalty versus Self-Perfection

The Rectification of BJJ's Rules: To Gi or Not to Gi

Americanization of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu

BJ Penn for President

Remembering George Mehdi

^{Reflections on the Evolution of BJJ}

^{Who Taught Oscar Gracie?}

^{I was Skeptical}

^{Selling Self-Defense}

^{Rickson Gracie is Wrong}

^{Rev. of book by João Alberto Barreto}

^{Maeda Promotes Five Brazilians}

^{Science and Sanity in BJJ}

^{Jiu-Jitsu in Cuba}

Is Oswaldo Fada Jiu-Jitsu a Non-Gracie Lineage?

Buy Breathe from Amazon.