Irish shillelagh fighting is bashing its way back onto the martial arts scene

PITTSBURGH — There’s probably an off-color joke about “Irish karate” on a shirt somewhere, but on a misty and gray Saturday morning in March, no one in the martial arts dojo was doubling over in laughter or wearing green.

Most of Bujinkan Dojo, a small studio in a former tile factory in the city’s East End, was awash in ancient Japanese culture. There were sharp throwing stars framed on the wall, along with tapestries of samurai and a large, hand-painted re-creation of the “crying dragon” members once saw when they visited a Buddhist temple about 65 miles west of Tokyo.

But out on the mat, a dozen or so people were wielding thin, knotted pieces of wood, the kind of stick a hobbling leprechaun might use.

Welcome to Combat Shillelagh.

“Do not just stand there, or you will get smashed in the head,” instructor Brian Fine told his students.

Shillelaghs date back over 1,000 years and, traditionally, hail from the village by the same name in County Wicklow. They’re typically made from the hard but flexible roots and root ball of the blackthorn shrub. Thinner shillelaghs were traditionally used as walking sticks and self-defense and thicker, heavier ones, often described as clubs or cudgels, were used to, well, club people. Think Walter “Monk” McGinn in Gangs of New York.

Today, the shillelagh often appears as another colorful symbol of Ireland — the Boston Celtic is leaning on one — but Brent Earlewine, the dojo’s owner and founder of Combat Shillelagh, said it also represents pride and defiance.

“Sure, it was a walking stick or something to chase off wild dogs but there was a time when Irish peasants were under English rule and all weapons were banned, it became a stand-in, an analog for weapons,” Earlewine, 55, said. “It became a way to hide in plain sight, to practice sword work, with a stick.”

Earlewine, a Pittsburgh resident who works in tech, said traditional, Eastern martial arts out of Japan, Korea, and China were well-preserved and documented throughout history. It’s a reason why there are thousands of martial arts dojos in the United States. Many Irish traditions, including the Gaelic language, were outlawed under British rule. The island’s deadly famine and the exodus it triggered left millions of Irish dead or fleeing to distant shores with little more than the clothes they wore.

But there were specific forms of martial arts in Ireland, Earlewine said, everything from boxing techniques, to collar-and-elbow wrestling. Stick fighting, known as bataireacht, had all but disappeared by the 19th century.

“That was mostly passed down from person to person and for a while, it was lost,” he said.

Daniel Kanagie, a Philadelphian who teaches traditional bare-knuckle fighting as Wolfhound Martial Arts, first grew interested in older, Western martial arts when he watched swordsmen at the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire in 2001.

“Every country, every culture has been attacked and needed to defend itself and some of them came up with unique ways to do it, including Ireland,” he said.

Kanagie said massive brawls between families or towns in Ireland, commonly known as “faction fights,” would have seen a shillelagh or two flying around, along with brass knuckles, stones, and other objects of violence. Some of that carried over to the United States as seen in Gangs of New York.

“They’re called the ‘fighting Irish’ for a reason,” Kanagie said.

In Pittsburgh, Earlewine began formally training with shillelaghs in 2016 and began offering courses in 2019. He’s taught in the dojo, online, and later this month, will be traveling to Ireland to teach shillelagh classes in County Wicklow. That trip will include a visit to a fifth-generation shillelagh maker.

“I’ve got students in 40 states and 25 countries, so it’s really taken off,” he said. “There’s starting to be a resurgence in Ireland, too.”

Most of Earlewine’s earliest students, like Fine, have become instructors. Fine came from a firearms background and was looking for self-defense alternatives.

“I was looking for something non-sports related,” he said.

For instructor Nick Carrington, who sported an Irish sweater and newsboy cap, the shillelagh’s become a passion.

“Once I got a shillelagh in my hands, it’s like the heavens opened up,” he said.

The stick fighting techniques appear to be a game of angles, stepping forward and backward to avoid blows and deliver them. The stick is used to block and strike, and the slightest misstep could mean the shillelagh’s club lands on a rib, inner thigh, or even your knuckles.

It’s all done in slower motions in the dojo because live fighting would require helmets and thick gloves. There would likely be blood.

“We’re doing it slow to train your brain,” Earlewine said. “If we go too fast, you’ll miss your angle, and get popped.”

Many of the shillelagh techniques would work with your average wooden cane, Earlewine said, or even a “tactical” umbrella. There’s tactical variations of plenty of other everyday items, including pens and pricey flashlights. Bujinkan Dojo teaches self-defense classes with all of them. Walking around with a shillelagh as a walking stick is generally accepted, but getting on a plane or going to a Steelers game with one could be a case-by-case basis. It helps to have a doctor’s note.

One of Earlewine’s students this Saturday morning was John Cheatwood III, 44, of Pittsburgh. He had trained in the traditional Japanese styles at the dojo for years and took the shillelagh class to add an extra niche to his skills. He’s a teacher and smaller than most of the men in his group of friends.

“I’ve wanted to be able to defend myself if I’m out and catch some trouble and I want to be able to help in case something happens at school,” he said.

Cheatwood, discovered he had some Scottish and English through DNA testing to accompany his Nigerian. That likely came from slavery, he said.

“That’s another part of me I’m finding out about,” he said, “and I guess this is, too.”