Face to face with his Canadian adversary, his entire athletic career has led him to this fight, and fatigue overwhelms him. In his opponent, he sees another judoka overcome with exhaustion. On the line: the glimmering bronze medal. Throwing his opponent for a minor point, something overcomes him. He feels angry. He feels hungry. In front of him is an enemy a robber trying to steal something that was his. Something he deserves. Channeling his adrenaline, he approaches quickly and executes a sankaku turnover (choke roll) — he takes what’s his.                           

Freshman Max Antoniou — who recently aged-out as at the highest ranking judoka, or judo practitioner, in the United States ages 13-14 — recently fought in a Wisconsin state judo competition on his path to the Olympic Games. His earlier bronze in Fort Lauderdale against the Canadian had already cemented him as a serious competitor for 2018 World Championships—including the Olympic Games––the highest level of international judo competition

While Antoniou often contemplates the Olympics he also recognizes the impact of judo on his performance in other aspects of his life. In judo, failure and hard work are omnipresent, and Antoniou has learned to use his familiarity with these experiences to improve other aspects of his life. “Academically, if I do poorly on a quiz, I’ll work harder,” he said. “I feel like failure is one of my best motivators.”

Antoniou has improved significantly in the sport. “I fought last year in November in the Presidents Cup, an international tournament in Texas, and I fought horribly,” he said. “The second day I just lost three matches straight, and the next week, I probably ran three hours a day on top of my regular judo schedule.”

At this stage of Antoniou’s athletic career, his relationships with his competition are central—he has befriended judokas far outside of Illinois.

Antoniou met Isabel Garriga, an internationally ranked judoka from Houston, Texas, at the 2015 Pan American Games in Cordoba, Argentina. “When I first met Max, he was just so nice, so funny,” Garriga said. “He’s an amazing judoka.”

Because of Antoniou’s style and drive, Garriga took notice.“He has amazing technique and you can really see his passion,” Garriga said. “When he does judo, you can just see how he really wants it.”

Antoniou’s technique derives from his training at Brett Wolf Judo, and the passion comes in part from the history of the sport.

Judo originated in Japan in 1882. Derived from jujutsu, it focuses on the concept of maximum efficiency using minimal effort. Introduced to the Summer Olympic Games in 1964, judo saw a steady increase in popularity in the 20th century and into the 21st despite its seemingly violent goal. To win a match, a judoka must throw her opponent to the ground and hold her on their back for several seconds or until she “taps out.”

Despite this violent nature, judo is primarily practiced as a clean sport, as well as a means of improving self-defense. Because the sport encourages benevolence and acceptance, it encourages its competitors to befriend others in the judo community.

“Now I have friends from New York, L.A., Nevada, Texas, Rhode Island,” Antoniou said. “The relationship with most of them is almost like what you have with a brother or a sister.”

Many of Garriga’s friends are judokas from around the United States. “All these judokas are just great people,” Garriga said. “All my best friends are people that I have fought.”

The strain of national and international travel strengthens the already intense long-distance camaraderie judokas share. “It kind of sucks because they’re not from my area,” Garriga said. “I have friends from Oklahoma, I have friends from New York, I have friends from Chicago.”

Among her Chicago friends is Parker 8th Grader Gabe Wrubel. Uncoincidentally, Wrubel and Antoniou have trained together for several years and developed a significant friendship while engaging in their mutual interest.

“He’s kind of like my best friend right now,” Antoniou said. “I’ve known him a while—probably like five, six years, and every now and again, we fight in tournaments.”

As with other athletic relationships, Antoniou and Wrubel often debate their record against each other. “Our official record is: he’s beat me twice, I’ve beaten him once,” Antoniou said. “One of the times he beat me, we were like three years old. The other time he beat me, I had become sick, and I threw up seven times the night before, and I had lost fifteen pounds.”

On January 29, Antoniou and Wrubel squared off in the Wisconsin State Championship.

“We said that we wouldn’t fight each other too hard ‘cause we don’t want to hurt each other,” Wrubel said. “It’s just a fight. I mean, it wasn’t anything personal.”

Facing Wrubel, Antoniou thought something quite similar. “I think to myself, ‘This is just another opponent’ because I love this person, I care for this person, this person is a friend, but I have goals,” Antoniou said. “I earned this. It’s just going to come back to who works harder.”

Still, Antoniou adjusted somewhat. “There are certain people who I fight with a certain ferocity,” Antoniou said. “And if I fight someone from my club, I might play a little cleaner.” Antoniou aimed to pin Wrubel rather than choke him––and ended up with the Wisconsin State Championship, cementing his reputation as a fierce competitor—even against a friend.