Beyond the Mats: Why Some People Don’t Understand the Loyalty to Professor Presas

This all started after I listened to a podcast where people were flat-out ridiculing the relationship many of us had with Professor Remy Presas. Not questioning it – ridiculing it. The tone wasn’t curiosity, it was dismissal. As if these family-style relationships were somehow fake, unhealthy, or just people engaging in idol worship.

And honestly, that’s where I take issue.

First, let’s get something straight: yes, I think extremely highly of Professor Presas as a martial artist. He was one of the best in the world, and most people will never have the opportunity to train with someone of that level. But I can separate his martial ability from who he was as a human being. In fact, I care far more about the man I knew than the techniques he taught.

What a lot of people miss – and this is huge – is culture.

In many Japanese and Korean martial arts systems, there are strict cultural protocols. Hierarchy is emphasized. Distance is maintained. Respect is shown through formality and structure. That doesn’t make those systems wrong – it just makes them different. But those same protocols naturally limit how close students and teachers become on a personal level.

Filipino culture doesn’t work that way.

Filipinos are warm. They’re open. They make you feel like family whether you planned on it or not. That cultural mindset absolutely carried over into how Professor taught and how he lived. He treated people like people, not subordinates. And when you do that, real relationships form.

I saw Professor close to 200 times throughout my martial arts career. Let that sink in. Seminars averaged five hours. Training camps ran 25 to 30 hours. That’s over 1,500 hours of face-to-face training – not online, not virtual, not occasional drop-ins. When he came to Buffalo, he stayed at my house. We talked. We shared meals. We lived real life around training.

And here’s the part that really gets ignored when people casually throw out the “idol worship” label.

I watched Professor bend over backwards to help his students. I saw him reach into his own pocket to help people who were struggling. He offered help to me more than once. The first time I went to Germany, he handed me a fistful of money and said, “Buy your ticket.” I paid him back, but I never forgot that gesture. On another trip, after buying emergency plane tickets home wiped me out financially, he offered again. I didn’t need it that time – but the fact that he cared mattered.

That’s not idol worship. That’s a relationship.

What I don’t understand – especially in today’s society – is how quickly people judge without asking questions. If you don’t understand something, ask. If something surprises you, ask. It wouldn’t take much to say, “Why did you feel that way about Professor?” or “What did he do that created that kind of loyalty?” If people actually listened to the answers, the evolution of those family relationships would make perfect sense.

Instead, some people would rather dismiss it as BS – while conveniently ignoring the fact that they weren’t around nearly as much as they like to believe, or as much as they want others to think they were. Time matters. Face-to-face time matters. You don’t get the same relationships from distance, formality, or occasional contact.

This is also the model I’ve followed in my own organization, the World Modern Arnis Alliance. We take care of each other. Our people feel like family – not a cult. I’m not idolized. People stick around because of how we treat one another: with respect, care, and support. When someone needs help, we try to help. And because of that, relationships naturally grow deeper. Some feel like father and son. Others like brothers and sisters. That’s what happens when people actually spend time together and look out for one another.

So no – this wasn’t about deifying Professor Presas. It was about respect that was earned through actions, culture, and time. And maybe, just maybe, if people asked questions instead of passing judgment, they’d understand that too.

Datu Tim Hartman, Modern Arnis Tribal Chief.