The Street-Fighting Martial Art

Competitors in Brazilian jiu-jitsu tournaments wear a heavy, judo-style martial arts uniform. The goal of the sport is to force an opponent to submit, which he signals by tapping his opponent, the mat or himself three times because he is choked, or feels close to having an arm or leg broken. There is a scoring system similar to wrestling if there is no tap-out at the end of a single-round match, which lasts from five to 10 minutes, depending on the level of the competitors.

Kristen Allan, 22, of Springfield, a judo competitor who hopes to reach the Olympics, said she also practices Brazilian jiu-jitsu as "great cross-training for judo. Even if I'm not going to use the exact techniques, it's going to help me improve."

Law enforcement agencies, including the FBI and the Drug Enforcement Administration, have sought training from the Yamasakis, and Brazilian jiu-jitsu academies have assisted police and sheriff's offices around the country.

Tod Arechiga, 42, a D.C. police officer who lives in Aspen Hill, said that the sport "gave me the confidence that the police department doesn't give you, to not have to go to a weapon" when facing dangerous situations. He said a lack of training in hand-to-hand fighting left D.C. officers feeling that they had to resort to their gun, causing crime suspects to respond in kind. "The result was a whole decade of police shootings."

Joe Cunningham, 32, of Alexandria said he has been training for seven years. He said he was a longtime recovering addict and often brought in youths who needed a more healthful outlet.

"It usually has a good impact on young kids," Cunningham said. "You don't want to teach thugs how to fight. But thugs don't last here."

Casey, a public relations consultant, took up the sport two years ago out of curiosity and as a way to stay in shape. Soon he was hooked, training up to five times a week in addition to his cardio workouts.

But Casey said he had no intention of competing, until Fernando Yamasaki practically goaded him into it when other students were preparing for an international tournament. In a hot, noisy gym at the world championships in Rio in August, he lost his first fight in his weight class in a controversial scoring decision. He wound up winning a bronze medal.

Discouraged, he wanted to stop, but his father and Yamasaki urged him to continue. He then competed in a tournament of all weight classes, not just his own, and won the gold.

"They call it the pit bull of martial arts," Casey said, "and that's not for nothing. A lot of the game is hanging in there longer than you think you can, which of course has a lot of application to difficult situations in your life. I've found that Brazilian jiu-jitsu has now become a way of life."

As have many devotees, brothers Mark Jones, 35, and Brian Jones, 29, of Centreville became intrigued with the sport after watching Brazilian jiu-jitsu fighters in the "Ultimate Fighting Championship." Both have worked as guards in the Fairfax juvenile detention center and said the self-defense skills gave them a confidence and ability to handle tough kids that they hadn't acquired in their standard guard training.

The Yamasakis have about 330 students in the Washington area. Jeremy Lafreniere, who operates the Capital Jiu-Jitsu Academy in Alexandria, said he has 160 students, and "we are growing."

Lafreniere said a lot of the students "come from military backgrounds, especially the Army, which has adopted Brazilian jiu-jitsu in the area of its combative training program."

FightWorks in Sterling has about 40 students, double the number since the start of the year, owner Dan Wallen said. "People are in tune with the idea that the great kicks you see in most martial arts are not the reality on the streets," Wallen said. "Brazilian jiu-jitsu is also phenomenal exercise, and you use a lot of muscles."

Beyond the physicality is an undeniable bonding that takes place among students of the sport. Wallen attributed that to the Gracie clan, who have been generous with their time and expertise and who he said have a natural friendliness that he often found on his trips to Brazil.

Fernando Yamasaki, a third-degree black belt who Casey said could be as tough as a drill sergeant in training, was relaxed and easy-going off the mat.

"I try to always be smiling, try to make life simple, the way jiu-jitsu is," Yamasaki said. "That's the way I try to teach. I try to make life simple."