Tough love from a Karate master/Sushi Chef

The best way to describe my chef in one word is passionate. Everything he does is on purpose and perceived by some as over the top. He worked hard, partied harder, and gave me quite a hard time during my training. In hindsight, it was the perfect method to drive me to success. In the moment, however, I could not have hated his methods more.
Nothing I did, not one skill learned in culinary school was proper or sufficient to him. I was taught to never lift my knife from the cutting board when chopping things. The chefs would say that if they heard "tapping", rather than "rocking", the offending students would have to work on his or her day off to make up for it. I was also taught to move the food towards the knife, not move my knife and body. Though conversant with these simple, classical, French techniques, the sushi chef wanted me to "drop" the knife down with every cut to hear the tapping of my work and to judge my speed. He wanted me to move with the knife as it slammed down on the board one trillionth of a millimeter from my knuckles to ensure perfect cuts when dicing and making julienne. He told me to slice the fish towards and under my hand which held the fish in place, rather than the safe method I was taught whereby the knife was to move away from the other hand and body. Even when I peeled shrimp I was told that I would never get it done in time. He made it clear, though, that there was truly a method to this madness. In time I came to fully understand this.
Every day and night for three weeks I was told that I was the worst chef he had ever had the displeasure of working with. After a few beers with him in the evenings, he would tell me that Asian chefs prepped food both extremely fast and accurate as if their lives depended on it. He would tell me that Americans lack the drive and discipline necessary to be good sushi chefs. Of course most of what he said while "under the influence" wasn't truly his beliefs, he just wanted to "negatively inspire" me. I'm also aware that everything people say, whether embellished or not, contains some elemental truth. As the nights came to a close, he would begin to tell me of the days when he was a champion fighter on the karate circuit. I heard tales of unlicensed street fights with no rules except that the fighter who could no longer stand up lost. He never lost. I learned that his master invented weapons I have only seen in old-school games like Shinobe. All of these tales and nostalgic accounts were entertaining, yet revealed to me that which makes up this tough yet feeling, bull-headed yet brilliant, warrior/wise man I worked so hard to please.
Another benefit of his anecdotes was that the customers at the bar couldn't get enough. He was both a chef and an entertainer. I was beginning to fully understand what it meant to be in the hospitality business. Some cooks are brilliant craftsmen but cannot talk to people to save their lives. Others are fantastic conversationalists, but lack any classical or innovative skills when it comes to cooking. Sushi chefs, and subsequently the chefs at Benny Hana's, had to couple the best of both types of personalities to be successful at their complex jobs of both craftsmen and hosts.
The man had a wealth of knowledge and could write a novel from his life's experiences. He never gave up on me and for that I could not be more grateful. He is a trained lethal weapon and by far the best sushi chef in this state. The sole reason for this bar's success is my sushi chef. However, when things got bad for us and the rest of the staff, he was an intricate part of the downturn for the life of the sushi bar as we were determined to punish the owner for her despicable actions. Namely her complete disregard for both common decency and the U.S.'s fair employment laws.