Tyler Driskell

Tyler "T" Driskell is a 2nd degree blackbelt and one of the lead jiu-jitsu instructors at Creighton MMA, a Renzo Gracie Academy in Suwanee, Georgia.  T is a 2-time brown belt gold medalist at IBJJF No-Gi Worlds along with many other podium finishes on the IBJJF circuit.  T is known for his gentle jiu-jitsu throughout the Southeast United States.

Back when I was a white belt, I was suffering from three main issues.  The first was injuries.  I was getting hurt in class too often.  That required enduring physical pain, going to doctors or physical therapists, paying for those services, and then dealing with the mental trauma of wondering each time I went to class if that was the day I would either get hurt again, or perhaps it would even be my last class ever for jiu-jitsu.

On a few occasions, I would sit in my car in the parking lot of the jiu-jitsu school before class and wonder if it was even worth going inside to take the class. I would think about just turning around and going home.

The second issue was technically learning skills and techniques.  Sure, we were learning moves in class, but once rolling started, it seemed that all those techniques were just thrown out the window, and it was just two guys gripping and ripping and trying to pin each other down for the round.  I still call this a “white on white” crime because when you get two white belts who have no clue what they are doing, that’s pretty much what happens during those roles.  There is no jiu-jitsu being done because neither knows any jiu-jitsu.

The third issue was just finding upper belts that were nice to the lower belts.  The culture at the school was hierarchical.  The black and brown belts reigned supreme and walked around like their crap didn’t stink.  They would choose what they showed you based on how much they liked or didn’t like you.  As an older guy who was a numbers nerd, I didn’t fit in very well in that culture.  I stuck out like a sore thumb and was often the odd man in the cool kid’s club.

There was one brown belt, though, who taught a single class on Friday evenings at 6:00 p.m. His name was Tyler, but everyone called him “T.”  T's classes had an entirely different vibe, probably aided by the fact that it was Friday, the workweek was done, and there wasn’t a class following the 6:00 p.m. class, which meant that people could hang out on the mats and chit-chat or roll extra after class. It seemed a lot more social and casual.

T didn’t fit into the typical mold of jiu-jitsu guys, either. He was tall, 6’4”, lean but muscular, flexible, and capable of playing an inverted game. He looked more like a Division 1 men's 100-meter freestyle swimmer than a jiu-jitsu guy.  He looked like a model, always wore odd haircuts and big glasses, and was into art, science, culture, and camping, among other things.  It was hard to put a label on T.

But on the mats, he could roll with anyone.  It didn’t matter if you were a 14-year-old girl, a 165-pound old guy like me, or the toughest guy in the room.  T rolled with graceful technique.  Smooth, precise, and what I would call gentle.

He would tap me out repeatedly, but it was done so gently that it made it playful and fun. He would laugh during the rolls when you tried a technique and failed spectacularly, encouraging you to keep trying but acknowledging that jiu-jitsu could be fun and playful.

When we start jiu-jitsu, we don’t know much about anything.  The culture, the techniques, the process, or anything.  I didn’t even know private lessons were a thing.  How would I know something like that when starting?

But somehow, I learned that you could pay people, work with upper belts one-on-one, and take private lessons from them.

T was the very first private lesson I ever took, and once I had that first taste of learning jiu-jitsu one-on-one with someone I liked and who was nice to me, I was hooked.

T and I became friends over the years, and my wife and I sort of adopted him to become what we call “our jiu-jitsu nephew.”  At a stage in T’s life, he didn’t have access to a washer and dryer other than a laundromat.  That’s a crisis for anyone who does jiu-jitsu multiple times a day.  Jiu-Jitsu is just non-stop, perpetual dirty laundry.

Our house was only two and a half miles down the road from the academy where he worked, and we would tell T to swing by around lunchtime. We would put in a load of laundry for him, go downstairs, and spend time in the Bunker together. We’d throw the laundry in the dryer, head out to lunch, and when we got back from lunch, I’d have a great jiu-jitsu session under my belt, we’d be full from lunch, and T’s laundry would be done.

We would travel together from time to time to IBJJF events when he was an active competitor. T eventually won double gold at IBJJF No-Gi Worlds as a brown belt before getting promoted to black belt. He has amazing jiu-jitsu.

Once ADCC started to become a better spectator event and CJI came along, T and I would travel together to the big grappling events. We both loved watching jiu-jitsu all day and nerding out for days on end.

Meeting T has been a tremendous asset on my journey.  I’ve learned so much from him.  But more importantly, I’ve seen highly cool people who can be very nice in the jiu-jitsu industry but could also kill you softly on the jiu-jitsu mats.

Sometimes, you must put yourself out there to attract people who align more with your personality, preferences, and priorities.  Hopefully, you are lucky to find yourself a T Driskell in your jiu-jitsu journey.