Nigeria’s Wasi Adeshina to Headline Historic Nigeria Event against Ignacio Campos  Patrick Ocheme Faces Octave Ayinda in Lightweight First Round Co-Main Event The Professional Fighters League today announced the first pair of bouts as PFL Africa heads to Nigeria for the first time at the Eko Convention Center in Lagos on Saturday, June 13, 2026. The event will mark the largest MMA event in West African history, featuring the opening round of the PFL Africa bantamweight and lightweight tournaments, alongside showcase bouts highlighting top regional talent. Headlining the event will be a featherweight Showcase Bout featuring Nigeria’s Wasi “The Nigerian Jaguar” Adeshina (10-3), who will compete in front of a home crowd in the main event against Spanish star Ignacio “Nacho” Campos (7-2). Adeshina enters as one of the notable local athletes on the card and will look to deliver a strong performance as PFL Africa lands in Nigeria for the first time. Campos, on the other hand, is coming off a big win over Mathys Duragrin at PFL Madrid last month.The co-main event will feature a lightweight first round tournament bout between Nigeria’s Patrick “Star Boi” Ocheme (8-1) and Cameroon’s Octave “The Bantu Warrior” Ayinda (7-1). Ocheme will look to capitalize on the home advantage as he begins his tournament campaign, while Ayinda enters as a challenger aiming to secure a statement victory in the opening round. “ Making our West African debut in Lagos is a major milestone for PFL Africa, and one we’re incredibly excited about ,” said Elias Schulze, General Manager of PFL Africa . “ Nigeria brings incredible passion, culture, and talent, and Lagos is the perfect stage for this moment. The energy from the fans, the depth of local talent, and the opportunity to showcase it all on a global platform make this event truly special. We’re bringing elite competition to one of the most vibrant cities in the world, and highlighting the pride, colour, and intensity that define African MMA .” Additional bouts for the PFL Africa: Nigeria card will be announced in the coming weeks. PFL Africa: Nigeria  card: SuperSport (Africa - English) | Canal+ (Africa - French) Saturday, June 13 Featherweight Showcase Main Event: Wasi Adeshina (10-3) vs. Ignacio Campos (7-2) Lightweight Tournament First Round: Patrick Ocheme (7-1) vs. Octave Ayinda (8-1)

When I crave a few hours of escape from my own reality, I watch Kitchen Nightmares . I can’t recall why that show first caught my attention, but once I saw an episode, I was compelled to watch them all. If you aren’t familiar with the concept, let me give you some background. A renowned chef named Gordon Ramsay travels the country to help restaurants that are on the edge of failure. The owners of the establishments have requested his help because of his track record, and they’re often exuberant when they’re chosen. Once he shows up and begins the revival process, however, they tend to become resentful and angry. Why? Because he tells it like it is. Even though these businesses are about to collapse—some are hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt—the owners resist changing any of the things that have landed them in trouble. Example: Ramsay frequently suggests a menu overhaul to revive the enthusiasm of customers. Even though customers may not enjoy some of the current dishes, owners are often reluctant to comply. Some reference the old menu items as “tradition,” “a family recipe” or simply a dish that’s been offered for years. Ramsay doesn’t care. His response is the same: If it isn’t working, change it. Forget the emotional attachments and the tradition. That solution, along with other recurring comments such as update the décor, simplify the menu, change the staff and clean the place thoroughly, have prompted me to look at my martial arts center and ask myself some basic questions. Here are a few I’ve recently considered: Is the dojo clean?  Although most martial arts schools don’t have disgusting and potentially unhealthy conditions, we’re all guilty of the occasional cleaning faux pas. Are the mats sanitized regularly? Are there cobwebs in the corners? It’s easy to neglect the little things when you’re focused on teaching. Is the environment welcoming?  Ramsay often observes that restaurant owners don’t do enough to make passers-by even notice the building, let alone walk inside. It could be because the signage is lacking, the exterior of the building is run down or the lawn needs mowing. As he likes to remind people, excellence begins outside. This is one I need to focus on. Is the curriculum relevant?  Restaurant owners need to be concerned with ensuring their menu is current and relevant, and dojo owners need to think the same way about their curriculum. In essence, it’s our menu. When was the last time you took a hard look at what you’re teaching? Are you keeping up to date on teaching methods and martial arts trends? How many journals and magazines do you subscribe to? Is your staff composed of the right people?  To answer this question, list each area of responsibility in your school, then make another list of the skills required for the positions. Now evaluate the people doing those jobs. Do they have the necessary skills? Are you providing proper training? Are you paying them? Forget the days of volunteer teachers and unpaid front-of-office workers. If people work for you, get them trained, informed about your expectations and paid for services rendered. FINALLY, AND THIS IS THE BIG ONE, are you willing to hear feedback?  Many of the restaurateurs who appear on Kitchen Nightmares  become defensive when Ramsay provides constructive criticism. All business owners, however, should seek to improve their services, and that requires being open to observations from outsiders. If we want our industry and our businesses to continue evolving, we must constantly review our operations, listen to feedback from customers and take action when necessary. As Kitchen Nightmares  reminds us, it’s the business owner with an open mind who’s most likely to succeed in this ever-changing marketplace.

In the dojo, the most common cause of broken wrists is a fall in which the martial artist attempts to lessen the impact by extending an arm to make first contact with the floor. A less-common cause is a direct blow that hits the wrist. When you consider how important the wrist is in the delivery of power—as well as in locking, grabbing and escaping from grabs—it pays to know the physiological limits of the joint. And for times when the worst-case scenario happens, it’s beneficial to know what to expect when a wrist is broken. First, the anatomy. The wrist joint is designed to allow many degrees of movement: flexion, extension, radial and ulnar deviation, and supination (turning the palm up) and pronation (turning the palm down). The distal radius and ulna form the wrist bone and connect to the hand (carpal) bones through ligaments. The distal radius and ulna are also connected to each other by ligaments. When we talk about wrist fractures, we’re referring to a break in the distal radius and/or ulna at the level of the metaphysis, which is the flared region of a bone. In children, an injury to the wrist bone can consist of damage to the growth plate because they’re not skeletally mature yet. Children also can suffer an incomplete fracture, wherein only one side of the bone is broken. Yet another common injury in young martial artists is a buckle fracture, which follows a compressive load through the distal radius. And, of course, kids can sustain a complete fracture just like adults. For a mature martial artist, a wrist fracture is either displaced or undisplaced, and it involves the distal radius and/or the ulna. “Displaced” means there’s been a shift in position between the two broken parts. “Undisplaced” means there has been no movement or shift. An undisplaced fracture is treated nonoperatively. The wrist is immobilized with a secure splint or a cast. The injury generally takes four to six weeks to heal. When the wrist fracture is displaced, it usually warrants a reduction to properly align the bone(s). Getting the wrist into adequate alignment is important because if it heals in a crooked position, it will pose problems in the future. Those problems may include pain, stiffness and decreased grip strength. When you sustain a wrist injury, the medical assessment will involve X-rays. If a reduction is required for a displaced fracture, another X-ray will be obtained after the reduction to judge the quality of the procedure. If the alignment is acceptable, the injury may be treated in a cast and closely monitored. If, at the next follow-up appointment, the wrist bones have shifted again despite being in a cast, surgery will be needed. For unstable wrist fractures—those whose alignment cannot be maintained in a cast—surgery will probably be recommended. The decision to undergo surgery should take into account factors such as the patient’s age, activity level and overall health. The postoperative course also should be individualized. If the bone quality is good and the fixation is strong, early range-of-motion therapy can be initiated. If the bone is soft and the fixation questionable, therapy may be started later to minimize the risk of further fracture displacement. It takes effort to undergo the therapy needed to recover from a wrist fracture. Even when that happens, the joint can feel stiff and it can take months to regain motion, strength and baseline functionality. If the fracture is severe and/or the treatment is not optimal, there’s a possibility you won’t regain all the motion, strength and functionality you had. That’s why it’s imperative that you seek medical attention anytime you suffer a wrist injury that might involve a fracture.

Some fighters are built in elite gyms surrounded by champions, pushed by coaches who specialize in creating competitors, training alongside teammates all chasing the same dream. Hyu Iwata, however, wasn't that fighter. The 23-year-old Japanese phenom, who now carries an unblemished 13-0 kickboxing record and rides a four-knockout winning streak in ONE Championship, was built in a small dojo in Osaka where his teammates weren't particularly interested in competition. What he became – Japan's full-contact karate champion, winner of the brutal JFKO Championship, and now an undefeated kickboxing sensation – he created largely on his own through sheer will and an understanding that results require pushing yourself when no one else is pushing you.  On April 29 at ONE SAMURAI 1 in Tokyo's Ariake Arena, Hyu faces compatriot Taiki Naito in a flyweight kickboxing clash that represents the latest chapter in a journey that began with a mother's fear of sliding tackles and evolved into mastery built from within. "I was deciding between soccer and karate. I said I'd go with soccer, but my mom was scared of sliding tackles, so it ended up being karate," Hyu recalled with characteristic humor. What if young Hyu had pursued soccer instead? But fate, filtered through a mother's protective instincts, pointed him toward the dojo, where he would discover not just a sport but the foundation for everything that followed. The small dojo in Osaka where he trained wasn't designed to produce champions. It was a community space, a place where people came to learn basics, to get exercise, and to participate in a traditional martial art without necessarily dreaming of competitive glory. "My gym was actually a really small dojo. It wasn't the kind of place heavily focused on competition. My teammates weren't really fight-focused either. But I just kind of broke through on my own from there," Hyu explained. This detail matters because it speaks to something essential about Hyu's character. Many fighters credit world-class training environments, famous coaches, or competitive teammates for pushing them to greatness. Hyu had none of those advantages. What he had was internal drive: the ability to set his own standards and hold himself accountable when no one around him was doing the same. The pinnacle of his karate career came with the JFKO Championship, considered by many to be the toughest karate tournament in the world. The format alone is brutal: a test not just of technique but of physical endurance and mental fortitude that few competitions can match. "It's a two-day event. You fight about four bouts a day and win through a field of about 100 competitors to take the championship," Hyu described. Winning the JFKO Championship didn't just prove Hyu's technical ability. It revealed his mental toughness, his capacity to recover between bouts, his ability to strategize against multiple opponents with different styles, and most importantly, his preparation throughout the year leading up to those two grueling days. "I think what I learned was the importance of producing results. You have to push yourself every single day throughout the year for that one moment. You have to beat your own mind and get yourself prepared," Hyu reflected, articulating the lesson that would carry him from karate champion to undefeated kickboxing star. The transition to kickboxing has been seamless. His 5-0 ONE Championship record includes four finishes. The Osaka native has proven that the foundation built in that small dojo, refined through full-contact karate competition, and hardened through the JFKO Championship translates perfectly to elite-level kickboxing, and he is living proof that great athletes can come from not-so-famous gyms.

These days, we take for granted that each of us belongs to many overlapping communities. All the kids, parents, and staff members at my child’s elementary school see themselves as part of a school community. The foreign residents here in Tokyo talk about being part of the expatriate community. And, of course, everyone reading Black Belt is part of the martial arts community. What often gets lost in all this talk of community is how much of an individual endeavor martial arts training is. In everything from learning a form to fighting in the cage to finding spiritual insights, community is about support. Usually, it’s about giving us context and guidance. But no matter what a martial arts community does for people, it can only take them so far. The martial arts always end in individual achievement. THE MOST OBVIOUS  example comes from the fight sports. You could be a pro MMA guy with a team of coaches, nutritionists, and conditioning specialists all focused on you. You could be one member of a big judo team that spars constantly and does old-school conditioning work together. It doesn’t matter. Your martial arts community can only help you get ready to fight; it’s the fighter who wins or loses the match. The same goes for the seemingly simple act of learning an art. Some mistakenly believe that learning is a passive process. They think the instructor gives them techniques and they simply do what he says. The reality is that learning is always an active process. It’s something that the student does and that the instructor guides. Without that individual struggle to really understand an art and do it well, there’s no real learning, just rote memorization. Spiritual development is just as much of an active process as learning the skills of fighting is. Enlightenment, or some lesser insight, might come to a few martial artists suddenly, but it’s rarely without effort. Usually, the real gurus and mystics of the arts spend years in contemplation and study before their flash of awareness. MY FAVORITE EXAMPLE  of this is kyudo. It’s one of the few arts that are competitive and spiritual. And like all arts, you have to figure things out for yourself, even when you have help from an instructor. The competitive side of kyudo is probably the purest example of individual achievement in the martial arts. You and you alone hit or miss the target. There’s no opponent who can make you look good or bad. You can’t blame faulty equipment if you fail to hit the target because you’re as much responsible for your own equipment as you are for making the shot. As kyudo master Hideharu Onuma said, the bow doesn’t lie. When you shoot, it shows who you really are. The spiritual side of kyudo emerges naturally from practice. There’s a desire to hit the target that can get in the way of actually hitting it, a desire that must be overcome for the shooting to become effortless. There’s the sense of time and distance being illusions—when master archers feel that the arrow already exists in the target. All these things come only through long, concentrated effort. Then there’s the simple act of learning kyudo. The forms are short and the movements few, but learning to do them right requires constant self-examination and effort. A novice can be taught and guided, but only he can learn to feel the right position of his body and when to let the arrow fly. Only an active student can gain the kind of intuitive feel for correct shooting that Japanese archery is famed for. Of course, community is as important in kyudo as in any martial art. It takes a lot to organize competitions and run a kyudojo. But even with all the carefully coordinated effort during practice and all the care needed to maintain an archery range, there’s still nothing more individual than hitting that target yourself. THE BEST THING  about having a sense of community is your identity expands. Your connection with the people gives a larger sense of self, something bigger and more meaningful than just your own talents. But that’s also its greatest danger. It’s easy to get lost in your community, to identify too closely with it, to let actual martial arts achievement fade and allow your personality to become diffuse. You just become part of the group instead of yourself. And the antidote is always the same: to find yourself through some kind of martial arts achievement. That is what defines our community and ourselves.

One thing people routinely fail to incorporate into their training is what to do when they’re hurt. It’s probably because we’re all invincible and immortal, right? I mean, we’re doing the hurting, not the other way around… aren’t we? Two small words that say so much will answer those questions best: “If only.” If only we never got hit hard, never got staggered, never had to take a knee. Obviously, we all want to train to succeed, but we’d be silly not to consider failure and develop skills for what we’re going to do in the event we zig when we should’ve zagged. In combat sports—boxing, MMA, and muay Thai—a byproduct of hard training is the development of your “chin.” Hard sparring teaches you how to roll with a punch and adjust your range to mitigate strikes, and it helps you identify where the holes are in your defense. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said about practice sessions in which sparring stops when blood is drawn and complete finishes aren’t encouraged. So how are you supposed to react when your bell is rung? What does it feel like? What will it do to your ability to fight? Until it happens to you, you can’t really learn how to deal with it. Continuous aggressive pressure teaches you that a good defense isn’t complete unless you can make your attacker step back. If all you’re doing is covering up to protect yourself—or worse, turning your back—I’ve got some really bad news for you… YOUR TRAINING SHOULD INCLUDE  simple combinations that you grind into your motor memory. When you catch a good shot, it’s apparent to whoever threw it. If he’s aggressive enough to be fighting with you in the first place, he’s likely smart enough to know when and how to close the deal. You want to ruin his intention. Glove up with a training partner and have him fire off a few shots. Block and defend, but immediately fire back—not exactly blindly but certainly directly. Make him feel at risk. Do this over and over until your shots are literally following his retracting hands back to him. Once you’ve got the hang of it, add this: immediately sit down, step out to the side, and punch again from a new angle. Drill this simple response until you can get it done consistently and reliably—even if you're a little rocked. Defend, hit back, change levels, be somewhere new, hit back again. If you get hit square and you're suddenly tasting blood in the back of your throat, don't freak out. You can certainly spit it out, but don't hang your mouth open to gasp for air. Just breathe through and around your teeth. Keep biting down—you don't want to sustain another hit with your mouth open. Don't blow your nose, either; just let it drip. PERHAPS THE HARDEST THING  about all this for most people is fighting through pain and adversity, knowing that you're hurt and not 100 percent. Take heart! Many boxing coaches have told their pupils, "The most dangerous fighter can be the one you've hurt." There's a reason for that admonishment. When you suddenly understand the gravity of the situation, you can leverage the adrenaline dump to your advantage—if you have the skills and the training. When you train, make every effort not to just participate but to dominate the range inside which you're both at risk. Remember that in order to hit, you've got to be within range to be hit. Being able to take a heavy shot while staying focused is essential to dominating that space. The only way to learn how to do that is to experience it. You have to learn that a heavy-handed hit alone doesn't mean you can't still prevail—experientially, not theoretically. You've undoubtedly seen it during combat sports events. Tim Bradley vs. Ruslan Provodnikov comes to mind—Bradley's determination and instincts to survive were so strong he weathered a terrible beating and still managed to step off a powerful and aggressive Provodnikov. Developing that in yourself doesn't come easily or cheaply; it takes committed training with the potential for injury. If you're serious about self-defense, you have to subject yourself to increasingly harder training in which there's an element of real risk—controlled and safe, of course, but risk nonetheless. There's no substitute for inuring yourself to the presence of risk and learning to deal with the possible consequences, especially when you've sustained some damage.

Long before the world came to know Chuck Norris through the lens of entertainment, he had already earned deep respect where it mattered most—on the mats, in the dojo, and among those who truly understood discipline. Since the 1960s—before the films, before the mythology, before Hollywood had any claim— Black Belt Magazine  chronicled his journey. Chuck was more than a subject of its pages; he was part of the foundation that helped shape its lasting influence within the martial arts community. So with that in mind, it is only fitting, then, that the voices gathered here are not distant admirers, but members of that community—those who stood beside him, trained with him, and witnessed his path firsthand. Across seven decades, Chuck didn’t simply influence the world; he shaped it—one student, one lesson, one example at a time. For many, he was more than a champion or a star. He was a teacher, a standard, and a source of inspiration that changed the course of their lives. From the 1979 visit to Black Belt Magazine offices This tribute is not about the myth or the legend that grew around his name. It is about the man—and the community he helped build, strengthen, and unite. It is about the quiet moments beyond the spotlight, the values he lived by, and the legacy that continues to ripple through generations of martial artists. Because for those who knew him—who trained with him, learned from him, and understood what he stood for—his impact reaches far beyond accolades or fame. It lives in how we approach our craft, in the respect we bring to every exchange, and in the standards we hold ourselves to. We continue to honor the art above all. That is the lesson we learned from Chuck. As Mike Stone , who stood alongside him from the very beginning, said: “It was natural for the top fighters to gravitate toward one another. We shared similar skills, similar mindsets, and a mutual understanding of what it took to step onto the floor. Everyone wanted to win, but there was never a loss of respect. Because of that, friendships came easily." What follows are testimonials from those who walked beside him, trained with him, and came to respect—and love—the man behind the legend.'' Bill "Superfoot" Wallace - World Middleweight Champion, Black Belt Hall of Fame Publicity stills from the 1979 Force of One   Bill Wallace and Chuck Norris go way back—they were longtime friends, peers, and two of the biggest names in the 1970s martial arts scene. You could see that mutual respect both on and off screen, especially in their fight scene in A Force of One  (1979). Chuck always spoke highly of Bill, seeing him as a true equal—which says a lot considering how many great martial artists were out there. After Chuck’s passing, Bill’s words were simple and heartfelt: “Chuck was the last of the good guys.” Mike Stone – International Karate Champion, Black Belt Hall of Fame "I first met Chuck Norris back in 1965. We both competed at the Internationals, though we never faced each other because of our weight divisions. In those days, it was a small, tight-knit circle. The same competitors showed up at every event. Despite the intensity and, at times, the danger, it was still a game. Competitive, yes… but grounded in respect. Some of my fondest memories of Chuck didn't happen in the arena, they happened in the quiet spaces where character reveals itself. We traveled to Hawaii as part of the Mainland team to compete against the Hawaii team and spent a few extra days simply enjoying life. I still have the home movies—us swimming, laughing, and sunbathing. Moments like that stay with you, because they show who a man truly is when the spotlight is gone. Chuck Norris is more than a champion. He is a living symbol of what martial arts were meant to be. Everything he achieved, he earned through hard work, dedication, and an unwavering commitment to excellence. And because of that, he has earned something even greater than titles: the love and respect of his friends, his peers, and generations of students and fans. A true legend. A true martial artist. A true friend." Jeff Smith - World Light Heavyweight Champion, Black Belt Hall of Fame "Chuck Norris had more impact on spreading martial arts throughout the world than any other martial artist. His loss to the martial arts community will be felt around the world. His contributions in all facets of the martial arts are unequaled. From top competitor, instructor, and school owner, to his association with the Chuck Norris style, tournament promoter, his kickboxing league, health products, TV, and movies—but mostly his great personality and the friendship he shared so freely with so many. Condolences to his family, friends, students, and fellow martial artists on his passing. But he will be remembered for the many lives he has touched and the friendships he has shared over the years." Benny Urquidez - World Kickboxing Champion, Black Belt Hall of Fame "Chuck Norris and my family go way back, back to the 60s at the Nationals. Not only did I have the chance to watch him compete and perform, I also had the privilege of training him in the early 70s in Kickboxing and we had a great time! What an incredible warrior and gifted martial artist. Over the years, we worked together on movies, stunt choreography, and fights, and my wife and I would often travel to give seminars for Chuck's UFAF organization. I feel so very blessed and very privileged to have had those experiences with him. Over the years, our families spent time together at Chuck's ranch and many great moments of friendship were shared. We have lost a titan, and a dear friend. Our love is with Gena [and] the Norris family. I just want to say Chuck, Carlos, you were such a beautiful warrior. We lost a profound warrior of knowledge and experience, gifts that he shared with all of us. He leaves an incredible legacy and body of work that millions can continue to enjoy. Chuck, I wish you ease and happiness on your journey and may we meet again sometime in the next lifetime, my friend." Cynthia Rothrock - 5 Time World Champion, Black Belt Hall of Fame "I’ve always deeply respected not only Chuck Norris’ martial arts skill, but also the way he has carried himself as a mentor and role model over the years. In a world where talent often takes the spotlight, Chuck has consistently demonstrated that character, discipline, and integrity matter just as much—if not more. His influence extends far beyond technique or titles, inspiring generations of martial artists, myself included, to pursue the arts with a greater sense of purpose that blends physical mastery with spiritual growth, humility, and respect for others. That balance is rare and continues to set him apart as a true icon. I’ve also long admired how he has used his fame to uplift others, promote positivity, and remain grounded in his values—an approach to leadership that creates a lasting legacy and strengthens the entire martial arts community. Chuck is not just a martial arts legend, but a guiding force beyond it." Curtis Wong - Founder Inside Kung Fu Magazine and Black Belt Hall of Fame Chuck told me years ago that he was going to make another movie, but the studio couldn’t pay him. He said he would do it for free since they were always good to him. Thats the kind of man he was always a loyal and kind hearted. Joe Corley - 10th Degree Black Belt, Black Belt Hall of Fame "Moments in time can alter the trajectory of a life. For me, that moment came in 1968 at Madison Square Garden, where I met Chuck Norris—someone I had followed closely in the pages of Black Belt Magazine. After the tournament, Chuck extended an invitation that would change everything: he asked me to come train with him. I accepted, and what I experienced left a permanent mark. I was struck not only by his skill, but by his energy, his humility, and the culture he had built within his schools. It was there that he introduced me to Pat Johnson, and together, their influence shaped my vision, my standards, and ultimately the path I would pursue. So much of what I dreamed—and what I was later able to accomplish—can be traced back to that single, generous invitation." Carlos Bunda International Lightweight Champion, Black Belt Hall of Fame Legendary photo including bottom row Steve Muhammad, Carlos Bunda, Ron Marchini, Chuck Norris and Mike Stone. The first time I competed against Chuck Norris was at the 1965 Long Beach Internationals. I did not know who he was and after seeing the way he attacked me, I found Chuck’s techniques predictable. A few months later we met again at the Winter Nationals. Fortunate to have beaten him again. We were matched again at the1966 Internationals grand championship round robin matches. I went against a different Chuck Norris. This time he was not attacking with his arsenal of kicks. Instead, he waited for me to make a move. He was nothing like the Chuck Norris I knew from our previous matches. To me, he improved his fighting style and there was no way I could counter his moves. Needless to say, he was just beginning his martial arts journey and his personal life and was envied by his peers. The martial arts world has lost an icon & role model. R.I.P. Chuck Norris. Mitchell Bobrow "Boy Wonder"  Karate Illustrated #1, Taekwondo Hall of Fame I first saw Chuck Norris compete back in 1966 at Madison Square Garden during the All-American Open KarateTournament.  At the time, I was mostly a fan, excitedly sitting with my program, jotting down notes, while watching the matches.  During one fight, something memorable happened. Chuck’s opponent grabbed his uniform, which was a no-no. But Chuck quickly grabbed him back, turned, and executed a fantastic high hip judo throw, Koshi-waza. sending his opponent flat on his back! Everyone in the arena was amazed,  it was a truly inspiring moment that changed my view on martial arts and sparked my own journey to becoming a champion. Chuck and I became lifelong friends, and I'll always remember him as "The ICON" Roy Kurban - 9th Degree American Tae Kwon Do Grand Master and former national competitor. "As a nineteen year old brown belt, I had the good fortune to sit by Chuck Norris’ ring at the 1968 US Karate Championships in Dallas, Texas. He destroyed all of his competition with speed, timing, a variety of combinations and aggressiveness. Each victory was a tutorial in technical excellence. He demonstrated good sportsmanship before, during, and after all matches. I had the golden opportunity to train under Chuck on several occasions. His teaching and communication of sparring concepts was second to none. When Chuck retired from the ring, he focused on developing the sport of kickboxing, becoming a motion picture icon, and changing the lives of tens of thousands at risk children through his KickStart Program nationwide. "I’ve lost a brother" Simon Rhee - Grand Master Tae Kwon Do, Black Belt Hall of Fame Chuck Norris sold his Wilshire studio to Master Jun Chong back in 1975. "I had pleasure of sparring with Master Norris few times at the studio and he was the nicest martial artist I have ever sparred with! When I saw him at the set of Walker Texas Ranger, as soon as he saw me, he came over to greet me, when he is the STAR . I have nothing but deep love and respect for him!" Carlos Machado - World Masters Champion, Black Belt Hall of Fame  "Heroes are idealized on screens and books, making a character bigger than life. Chuck Norris himself was a genuine character of hero proportions. I feel blessed to have known in person that side of him in real life!" Rigan Machado - 8th Degree Red & White Belt, Black Belt Hall of Fame  “Chuck Norris — Carlos to me — is a friend, a brother, and an amazing person. It’s been a true honor to know such a remarkable man—my hero. He’s the person who helped the Machado brothers come to the United States. I’m forever grateful to my brother, Chuck Norris.” JJ Perry - USA Tae Kwon Do Team and Texas State Champion, Stuntman of the Year "He was a maverick, an icon, an amazing martial arts master, he inspired my generation. I’m just grateful I had the privilege of spending time with him, he was the most generous man, and the kindest man, and the wisest man that I’ve known." Ron Van Clief - 15 time all American Champion, Black Belt Hall of Fame "Chuck Norris, was an amazing individual with exceptional skills, both mentally and physically. His spirit and determination were unmatched. Learned techniques from him regarding life and health that only reinforced my unstoppable spirit. He was always encouraging and positive. One of the legends of the martial arts that I highly respected. An Icon..." Ernie Ryes Jr - National Forms Champion, Black Belt Hall of Fame "I had the privilege to spend a lot of time with Chuck Norris over the years. From martial arts tournaments, to simultaneously promoting movies together (Surf Ninjas and Sidekicks), to weekends with Joe Kaufenberg in Las Vegas. Mr. Norris was an amazing individual with exceptional skills, both mentally and physically. His spirit and determination were unmatched. Learned techniques from him regarding life and health that only reinforced my unstoppable spirit. He was always encouraging and positive. One of the legends of the martial arts that I highly respected. An Icon..."

Chuck Norris vs. Superfoot: When Two Legends Collided on Screen The Chuck Norris Film Festival Weekend keeps rolling—and this one takes us back to 1979, when Fighting Stars  magazine featured a killer still from A Force of One. At that point, Chuck Norris was still on the rise in Hollywood. He wasn’t Chuck Norris  yet—the larger-than-life icon—but you can see it forming here. The presence, the timing, the way everything he throws looks like it would actually hurt… it’s all there. But the real treat? Bill Wallace. “Superfoot” wasn’t just a cameo name—he was one of the most dynamic kickers of his era. Fast, explosive, and unmistakable. And when he shares the screen with Norris, you can feel the difference in styles immediately. Norris is sharp and direct. Wallace is fluid and unpredictable. That contrast is what makes their fight scenes stick. There’s a rain-soaked exchange that feels raw in a way a lot of modern fight scenes don’t. No over-cutting, no hiding the movement—just two high-level martial artists going at it. Then you get the street clash, which leans even grittier. It’s not flashy for the sake of being flashy. It feels like a fight. And that’s really the point. A Force of One  isn’t just another entry in the late ’70s martial arts boom—it’s a moment where two legit fighters crossed paths before either one fully became legend status. You’re not just watching a movie—you’re catching a piece of the timeline as it’s happening. And if you haven’t seen it (or it’s been a while), it’s currently streaming free on Pluto TV. The festival’s still going—don’t miss the next one.

For a long time, I’ve been hearing tales of Leo T. Gaje Jr., the grandmaster of the Pekiti Tirsia system of Kali—perhaps the most controversial figure in the Filipino martial arts. Over the years, I’d had the opportunity to discuss the man with half a dozen of his senior students and an equal number of colleagues and acquaintances, but until recently, I’d never met him. So when my friend Ahkmed Boouraca invited me to a Gaje seminar he was hosting in New York, I thought I might finally get a better understanding of him. Trying to understand Gaje is reminiscent of the Japanese story Rashomon , wherein every character recounts the events from a different viewpoint, with no one agreeing on the facts. Opinions vary wildly, with some loving Gaje and some loathing him. The one thing almost everyone agrees on is his incredible martial arts skill. Boouraca calls Gaje “the truth” and said he owes everything he has to the man. But another longtime student of Gaje once described him as “pure evil.” When I finally met him, he seemed more a genial, grandfatherly figure, puttering around in a baseball cap and a baggy “I Love Texas” sweatshirt, than the personification of darkness. Then he took the floor to teach the Pekiti Tirsia style he learned from his grandfather, Conrado Tortal. Gaje began a simple knife-fighting technique, then suddenly dropped to his knees and proclaimed, “Now we pray—for his death!” Possessing phenomenal grace and agility for a man in his 70s, Gaje swept his foe to the ground and mounted him before dragging his training knife across his neck in a casual throat-cutting motion. Then he smacked him across the face, jabbed the tip of the dull knife into his carotid, jammed his other hand under the fellow’s nose to shove his head back, and once more cut his throat before summarizing: “Enjoy it—drink his blood!” At that point, he made a sucking noise. Welcome to the world of Leo Gaje. Born in Negros Occidental in the Philippines, Gaje began training in the martial arts at age 6. His grandfather drilled him in nothing but footwork for three years before moving on to the striking aspects of the system and schooling him in the use of knives, sticks, and various other weapons. The boy also learned the empty-hand tactics that make up the Pekiti Tirsia curriculum. But like everything surrounding Gaje, the nature and origins of many of these techniques are mysterious. Some have claimed Gaje borrowed moves from other styles and incorporated them into Pekiti Tirsia, while others have stated he’s continually modified his teachings over the years. Gaje insisted there’s no truth to any of this. “Everything I teach is the traditional art that I learned,” he said. “Why would I change anything when it was all there already? It’s just that people have only seen parts of the system, so when they see something new, they think I’ve made changes. But these things have always been there.” Whatever he’s teaching, Gaje’s methods seem to work. His students read like a who’s who of Filipino martial arts luminaries, including world arnis champion Tom Bisio, Dog Brothers co-founder Eric Knaus, Sayoc Kali head Chris Sayoc, and Pekiti Tirsia expert William McGrath. Beginning his teaching career in New York with Boouraca and these others back in the early 1970s, Gaje skillfully built a style that’s now practiced around the globe. Renowned for his expertise with edged weapons, Gaje is a sought-after instructor with military and law enforcement organizations and has served as a close-quarters combat instructor for the Philippine Marines. But always there were rumors of his dark side. One hears bizarre stories, such as how, when he first moved to New York, he used to ride the subways late at night with money hanging out of his pockets, looking half asleep in hopes that someone would attempt to mug him so he could practice his martial arts. Surely this can’t be true. … “Oh yes, that’s true,” he said. “I wanted to see if my techniques worked. What’s the point in practicing this stuff for all those years if you never get to use it?” Bisio once told me about the time he got on a subway train with Gaje while Gaje was carrying three knives, a sword concealed inside a cane, and a ball bearing embedded in the palm of his glove. Exaggeration? “I remember that,” Gaje said. “I always want to be prepared for what comes up.” He still carries three knives at all times, but he has a logical reason for it: “I carry two for me and one for my opponent. That way, if I give him one and kill him, the police can’t say I killed an unarmed man.” Gaje offered many of these comments with a gallows humor that made me think he was joking … perhaps. “You have to have fun and enjoy what you’re doing,” he said. “You can’t be so serious all the time, especially when you’re doing martial arts and teaching people kill, kill, kill!” So was he joking or was he serious? Is he a martial arts messiah or the devil in disguise? Gaje, characteristically, prefers to remain mysterious. “People online have called me a madman,” he said. “I’m not a madman—but I am crazy. I’m misunderstood. But to be misunderstood is to be great.”

From his very first cover of Black Belt Magazine  in 1967, to his induction into the original Black Belt Hall of Fame in 1968, we had the rare privilege of witnessing the meteoric rise of a man who would become one of the world’s most recognized and respected figures. Through every stage of his journey, Black Belt  stood alongside him—proudly watching one of our own rise to extraordinary heights. We loved Chuck because he was one of us—a true karate man. He came from the dojo, built his foundation through discipline and dedication, and carried those values with him to the very top of the world. He became a global icon, yet never ceased to represent the spirit of the martial arts community. To us, he was always our proudest black belt. Over the years, Chuck’s journey was nothing short of remarkable. From a Tang Soo Do black belt to a world champion, from instructor to Hollywood legend—his path inspired generations. Whether facing Bruce Lee on the big screen, standing as a symbol of strength in Delta Force , or becoming a household name through Walker, Texas Ranger , Chuck gave us all a front-row seat to history. And through it all, we could proudly say: “That’s one of our people.” Despite his fame, Chuck never wavered in his identity. He was, first and foremost, a martial artist. He lived by the code of discipline, respect, and honor. In his final days, he remained true to his training, his principles, and his deep love for his wife and family. His passing in Hawaii came as a profound shock to us all. As we pause to reflect on the life of this extraordinary man, we are reminded that his legacy extends far beyond film and fame. He inspired millions, uplifted the martial arts community, and showed the world what it means to live with purpose and integrity. Because of Chuck Norris, we are all better. Stronger. More inspired. Rest in power, Chuck.The world is bowing.

The official title of several Japanese koryu (ancient martial arts) includes the phrase tensionsho-den or something similar. Translated as “divinely inspired basic teachers,” it refers to the origination myth of an art. Most koryu purport to have stemmed from supernatural events. Sometimes these stories are odd. The katori shinto ryu, one of Japan’s oldest martial traditions, traces its origins back to a founder who, in the early 15th century, saw a horse being washed with water from a well at a Shinto shrine. The animal suddenly died. According to the ryu’s lore, its death gave the founder arcane insights into the power of the shrine that came to form the ryu’s principles. It isn't unusual for a revelation to follow strenuous physical effort from the founder of an art. In the 16th century, Muso Gonnosuke, an expert with the long staff, was defeated but not injured in a famous duel with Miyamoto Musashi. He retreated to a mountaintop cave and trained until he was exhausted. He was eventually visited by a deity who instructed him to reduce the length of the staff—which resulted in the creation of the jo. This is the origination story of the tenshinsho-den shinto muso ryu of jojutsu. Tengu, the mountain-dwelling goblins of Japan, are also supposed to have contributed to the origins of some ryu. It was a tengu that, according to some legends, taught the famous 10th-century warrior Minamoto Yoshitsune the secrets of swordsmanship that are today contained in the principles of the kurama ryu. It's interesting that while supernatural events mark the creation of most Japanese classical martial arts, they’re almost absent in Okinawan karate systems. This seems particularly odd when you consider that Okinawan culture is deeply, profoundly mystical. Okinawan religion is full of elaborate, secretive rituals and folklore. It would seem natural that the karate of that island nation would reflect some of this. There are some exceptions to this curious absence in a few karate systems. The kojo ryu—a small, traditional Okinawan karate style—has a dozen postures incorporated into its kata that represent the 12 animals of the Chinese zodiac. The symbol of the isshin ryu features a mermaid-like goddess—the inspiration for the system’s founder, Tatsuo Shimabuku, when she appeared in a vision to him. But this “myth” dates back only to the early 1960s. And the goddess is, judging from her depiction on isshin-ryu patches, obviously more influenced by Western folktales than by the original Okinawan bunaigami, or “sister goddess.” One reason for the lack of supernatural myths in Okinawan karate might be that these arts didn’t really develop into any coherent, distinguishable form until relatively recent times. Just like a divine or mystic origination myth associated with, say, hamburgers would seem weird, Okinawan karate may be so relatively modern that such tales never arose. Another possibility might be that the Okinawans view these arts within their culture differently than do the Japanese. Karate was a means of protection, a form of physical education, a method for proving oneself in matches against other villages; rarely was it a matter of life and death. Losing a karate bout might mean sustaining an injury. Losing a battlefield contest meant dying. The stakes were much higher for the Japanese warrior. Perhaps that’s why the powerful, supernatural myths were necessary to give him more belief, more confidence. The Okinawan karateka, by comparison, didn’t need such a structure in his belief system. My own suspicion—it is only that—is that no goblins or deities played a role in the creation of Okinawan karate systems because the Okinawans already had in place an object of veneration and respect. It was China. Okinawans were visiting China by the 15th century. Trade was thriving between the tiny island kingdom and the mainland. China profoundly influenced Okinawan culture. For the Okinawans, the knowledge and culture of China must have been awesome. Chinese combat arts, which played an extensive role in the refinement of Okinawan karate, would have seemed very impressive; its masters would have been venerated. Those Okinawans who made the voyage to China would have been something like today’s astronauts, rare individuals who have been to fantastically far-off places and seen and learned wondrous things. The Okinawans did not need supernatural tales to give their arts credibility or a sense of the special. For them, the Chinese from whom they learned would have been as extraordinary an origination story as they wanted or needed.

Action icon and martial arts legend Chuck Norris has reportedly been hospitalized following a medical emergency in Hawaii, just days after celebrating his 86th birthday. The Walker, Texas Ranger  star was reportedly on Kauai at the time of the incident. According to reports, Norris is conscious and in “good spirits” as he receives medical care. No details about the nature of the emergency have been released. Norris, a former world champion karate competitor, remains one of the most influential figures in modern martial arts history. Through his tournament success, film career, and long-running television work, he helped introduce martial arts to mainstream American audiences and inspired generations of practitioners around the world. Fans across the globe continue to send well wishes as the martial arts community awaits further updates on his condition.