Kicks, throws, and legacy: Nepal's judo veterans pass it on
In a modest dojo tucked into the lanes of Kathmandu, the slap of palm against palm and the thud of bodies hitting tatami mark the rhythm of an old tradition finding fresh voices. Men and women in their fifties and sixties, with gi creased from years of washing, teach throws they learned in the 1980s to teenagers whose eyes reflect a different Nepal.
Judo arrived in Nepal through enthusiasts who studied the discipline abroad and returned home with a vision. Over time, the art found a footing in sports colleges and community halls, even as cricket and football captured most of the headlines. Veterans from that pioneering cohort now find themselves pushed to a quieter corner of public attention, but their commitment has never wavered.
Their reach extends well beyond Kathmandu. Nepali communities in Melbourne and Sydney follow the home dojos online, and some former students return during off-seasons to volunteer at training camps, bringing back tactical ideas from Australian judo clubs. That two-way current between the Himalayan foothills and the southern hemisphere gives the veterans' efforts a wider meaning.
The story matters now because the current crop of teenage judoka is the largest Nepal has ever seen at the grassroots level. With international funding programmes thinning, the older mentors are stepping in to fill the gap.
The faces behind the gi
A handful of names define the older guard of Nepali judo. Coaches like Prakash Tamang, who first wore a judogi in the late 1970s, and Mira Joshi, who learned her groundwork in Pune before bringing it back to Patan, remain active on the mat. Their stories share a common thread: a journey that began with borrowed textbooks, second-hand belts, and a stubborn love for a sport few in Kathmandu could explain to their families.
These mentors did not train in modern facilities. Many recall polishing wooden floors by hand to mimic the smooth feel of a Japanese dojo, or improvising resistance bands from inner tubes. That resourcefulness shapes their teaching style. They emphasise creativity under pressure, an instinct born from making do with very little.
Inside the Kathmandu dojos
Walk into one of the larger training halls in Bag Bazaar or Baluwatar around five in the evening and the air thickens with rolling drills. The space is rarely larger than a classroom, with perhaps a dozen mats laid side by side. Students range from primary schoolers in oversized uniforms to working adults who slip in after office hours.
The culture leans heavily on repetition and humility. Bowing rituals mark every entrance and exit. Students are taught to fall correctly before they are taught to throw, a tradition the older coaches insist protects the long-term health of the sport in a country where advanced sports medicine is scarce.
Techniques passed from hand to hand
The technical curriculum these mentors transmit is anchored in classical judo. Osoto gari, seoi nage, and groundwork transitions form the spine of every class. Veterans like to point out that the same techniques they practised forty years ago still win world championships, which they offer as evidence that older methods need not be discarded in favour of trendier modern systems.
Beyond physical skill, the older sensei work to instil a code of conduct. They talk openly about losing gracefully, respecting an opponent's family, and the role of a martial artist outside the dojo. For a generation surrounded by flashy online personalities, these conversations feel almost radical.
Hurdles on the tatami
Funding remains a stubborn problem. Most senior coaches fund their own transport to regional meets and sometimes pay for mats out of pocket. The Nepali Judo Association receives a fraction of the budget given to cricket and football federations, which means trips abroad depend heavily on private sponsors or solidarity grants. Equipment shortages are routine, with clubs sharing a small pool of judogi.
There is also a recognition gap. Cricket heroes fill newspaper back pages, while judo achievements tend to appear in short broadcast segments. Meanwhile, the country's wider sports landscape is slowly diversifying. Ventures such as Gokarna Forest Golf, Nepal's hidden gem for international tourists have shown how niche disciplines can attract international visitors and sponsorship.
Young champions emerging
Results from the past three years suggest the recruitment strategy is working. Nepali juniors have brought home medals from South Asian championships, and a handful of teenagers now hold national rankings that once belonged to athletes twice their age. Coaches credit the veterans' patient groundwork for this surge.
The success has begun to attract attention from neighbours, with India and Bangladesh scheduling more friendly exchanges with Nepali clubs. Within the broader region, the senior coaches are quietly lobbying for a regional training centre that could serve as a permanent hub.
A wider sports tapestry
Nepal's sporting identity is broader than any single discipline, and the judo community sits within that wider frame alongside cricket, football, and emerging pursuits such as golf tourism. Bootballer has documented how that diversity plays out across the country, including a photographic journey through Nepal's most remote cricket grounds. The veterans see this plurality as healthy.
For Australian readers, the parallels are clear. Melbourne's inner-north judo clubs have absorbed Nepali migrants for years, and the city's coffee culture has produced post-training cafés where fighters swap technique notes over flat whites. Sydney's western suburbs host weekly randori sessions drawn from the same heritage.
| Aspect | Veteran era (1970s–1990s) | New generation (2010s–today) |
|---|---|---|
| Training facilities | Improvised halls, hand-polished floors | Shared mats in rented community spaces |
| Equipment | Borrowed gi, homemade resistance tools | Rotating pool of donated uniforms |
| International exposure | Limited regional meets | South Asian medals, diaspora exchanges |
| Funding sources | Self-financed, association grants | Sponsorships, solidarity funding |
| Media attention | Newspaper briefs, late-night radio | Short online clips, podcast features |
The transmission is well underway, and the veterans ask for little beyond continued space and quiet support. If you want to follow their journey and the wider world of Nepali sport, subscribe to the Bootballer podcast, watch the weekly video breakdowns on YouTube, and join the community threads at bootballer.net where readers in Adelaide, Brisbane and beyond swap training tips with coaches in Kathmandu. Your support keeps independent sports journalism alive.