It is with great sadness that I share the news of Richard Bresler’s passing.
As many of you know, Richard was Rorion Gracie's first regular student in Los Angeles, and is widely recognized as the first American student of Gracie Jiu-Jitsu. This distinction, however, doesn’t begin to capture who Richard was, or the crucial role he played in Jiu-Jitsu's American history.
Richard didn’t just study Jiu-Jitsu—he lived it. He believed in its transformative power long before the rest of the world caught on, and he committed himself to supporting and spreading that message: not with fanfare or bravado, but with dedication, consistency, and humility. For over 40 years, until his recent illness, Richard was on the mat, sharing the art that he loved.
In 2020, I had the privilege of working with Richard to tell his story in his memoir, Worth Defending. What began as a simple collaboration soon grew into one of the most meaningful projects of my life. Going in, I knew we would be writing about the challenge matches and the early days of the UFC; I didn't know that we would be writing about profound personal transformation: about someone who found in Jiu-Jitsu not just a system of techniques, but a path out of darkness.
In the countless hours we spent in conversation—about Richard's journey, about his struggles and triumphs—it became clear how much and how deeply he cared about the art, and how much he wanted it to reach the people who needed it most: the ones who didn’t yet believe they were worth defending.
Earlier this year, Richard was promoted to coral belt by Ryron and Rener Gracie—a rank awarded to only four other Americans before him. It was a long-overdue recognition for someone who has done so much for the art and its community, and asked for so little in return.
Those of you who have read Worth Defending know that Richard narrowly missed being counted among the "Dirty Dozen," the first twelve non-Brazilian black belts, despite his training longer than any other American. His promotion to coral belt effectively set that right, placing him among an even more exclusive group: the coral belt Dirty Dozen. It was an honor that was not only fitting, but necessary—an acknowledgment of a lifetime of contribution, and a legacy that helped shape the very foundation of Jiu-Jitsu in this country.
I will miss Richard deeply—as a collaborator, a mentor, and a friend.
Thank you, Richard. For everything.
—Scott Burr
"My friend," the man said to me, "have you ever done any martial arts?"
"I boxed a little," I told him. "Why?"
"Because," he said, "my family has been doing Jiu-Jitsu for sixty-five years. We're champions. We're very well known in Brazil. Why don't you come by for a free class?"
It was 1979, and my life was on the fast track to nowhere. I was stuck in a rut, stuck in a job I didn't like in an industry I couldn't stand, numbing my frustrations with a steady diet of drugs and distractions. I desperately wanted a change: I wanted to do something meaningful with my life, something I felt excited and passionate about, but I had no idea what that "something" would be. And, at almost thirty years old, I was nursing a growing sense that things were never going to get any better: that my life was going to be this way forever, and that was just the way things went.
I didn't know anything about Jiu-Jitsu—all I knew about martial arts was what I'd seen in Kung Fu with David Carradine and in Bruce Lee's movies—but what did I have to lose? I figured I'd throw a few punches and kicks, maybe jump around while shouting, "Hi-ya!" What I found instead was a martial art unlike anything I'd seen on the big screen: a martial art that was methodical, subtle, and undeniably effective. I was deeply impressed, instantly hooked, and immediately convinced that this Brazilian style of Jiu-Jitsu was going to take the world by storm.
As it would turn out, though, it would take over a decade's worth of dedicated trying and the creation of a whole new sport for the martial arts world to open its eyes to what was staring it in the face. By then, though, they wouldn't be the only ones to see the light: by then the whole world had learned the named Gracie.
Standing there with the man and considering his invitation, I couldn't have imagined any of this. I couldn't have imagined that this moment would mark the beginning of the change I was looking for: that it would mark the beginning of my becoming a part of something incredible, something so much bigger than myself, something that would fundamentally alter the world of martial arts and combat sports forever.
I couldn't have imagined it then, but that moment would mark the beginning of the rest of my life.
This is the story of how the Gracie family and their style of Jiu-Jitsu first found their footing on American soil, and how they transformed not only the world of martial arts and combat sports but my life as well...
Richard Bresler was Rorion Gracie's first regular student in LA, and is widely recognized as the first student of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu in the US. Worth Defending: How Gracie Jiu-Jitsu Saved My Life is his memoir of his over 40 years' involvement with the Gracie family and Gracie Jiu-Jitsu.
Question? Comment? Media request? Contact us at WorthDefendingBook@gmail.com.
Gym owners and club runners: are you interested in carrying Worth Defending in your pro shop? Contact us at WorthDefendingBook@gmail.com for information about wholesale terms and pricing.
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