All the Small Things

Jiu-jitsu doesn’t change much on the surface. The positions are familiar. The techniques are the same ones everyone knows. What changes is attention. A match is decided by details so small they’re easy to miss, but once you feel them, you can’t unfeel them.

Head position is one such detail. Most people think of the head as something you defend or avoid, but it should always be working. In a rear-naked choke, for example. 

By using your head to create a slight lateral flexion in your opponent’s neck, you begin to subtly break alignment. It’s not forceful, nor is it obvious. On the opposite side, your elbow closes the space, giving you encircling control of the neck. Nothing looks dramatic, but posture is compromised, balance is softened, and reactions are slowed. These micro-asymmetries don’t win by themselves, but when they stack up, motion becomes predictable.

The same idea applies to the Granby roll. On paper, it’s a fast escape. In reality, it only works when conditions are right (the missing detail is usually space). Say someone has locked their hands around your waist, the Granby doesn’t fail you; you fail the Granby. You stack your own spine, giving them gravity and control. The mistake isn’t the roll; it’s ignoring the detail that there was never enough space to make rotation possible.

For larger athletes, these details matter even more. Bigger frames need more internal space to rotate, and that space doesn’t appear automatically. A subtle adjustment of throwing one hand behind your own back can be the difference. That single movement clears the shoulder line, removes your own arm as a barrier, and allows the hips to turn freely. Without it, the body blocks itself, and the roll dies before it begins.

None of these details stand out on tape. No one hails head pressure that only changes an angle by a few degrees, or a hand that moves an inch behind the back. But these are the moments that decide whether a technique works or fails.

This is the real separation in jiu-jitsu. Not strength. Not speed. Not complexity. It’s the ability to recognize and apply the small details that aren’t obvious, and quietly control everything that follows.