Search Results

It is with profound sorrow that the community and family of Black Belt Magazine  announce the passing of our beloved Sensei John Sharkey, a teacher, mentor, and guiding light to so many. Based in Naperville, Illinois, just outside of Chicago, he was a true pillar of the martial arts community. Admired, Respected and Loved by everyone his met, trained and influenced martial arts will be better because of John Sharkey. Sensei Sharkey began studying martial arts in 1965. He opened his first school in 1973 while still a brown belt and a junior in high school, followed by a second location in 1976. In 1977, with the enthusiastic support of American Karate Association founder Ken Knudson, he was elected president of the AKA. Today, Sensei Sharkey is known worldwide for his continued stewardship of the AKA Warrior Cup, which began in 1964 and grew under his leadership into one of the most prestigious martial arts tournaments in the world. Throughout his lifetime, he awarded just over 100 black belts through Sharkey’s Karate Studios. Each one stands as a testament to his uncompromising commitment to excellence and to what it truly meant to be a Sharkey black belt. One of his greatest strengths was his selfless devotion to his students. He supported them with every resource available to ensure their success. Many went on to become respected leaders in the martial arts community, as well as champions in competition and contributors to motion pictures including major productions within the Marvel universe. One of his students, Mike Chat, reflected on his passing: “John Sharkey loved the sport of karate. The number of people he influenced, supported, and inspired is immeasurable, which is why there has been such an outpouring of love. He was known to everyone simply as Sensei, even after he was granted the title of Shihan, he remained Sensei to all of us. He held on until after we completed the 60th AKA Warrior Cup, the longest-running karate tournament in the country. His influence will live on for many lifetimes.” Sensei Sharkey’s legacy lives on through every life he shaped with selflessness, discipline, and love. As we mourn his passing, we invite you to honor him by holding him in your heart and by sharing a positive memory that celebrates the extraordinary life he lived and the profound impact he leaves behind both here and on his social media page: https://www.facebook.com/sharkey100

Dolph Lundgren has lived a life that feels out of this world. How many karate champions are also models, scientists, directors, and movie stars? Aside from his natural gifts, his hard work and curiosity have placed him in fascinating positions: from being plucked out of academia by superstar Grace Jones to training with legendary karate teachers like Mas Oyama, from friendships with Schwarzenegger to starring roles with Stallone. Lundgren has lived by way of discipline and it has helped him stand back up with each punch and kick that life’s delivered.  We were honored to spend time with Dolph Lundgren at our Los Angeles studio and sit with him as he reflected on his extraordinary life and lessons.  Discovering the Arts and Abilities Black Belt Magazine: Tell us about your journey into martial arts. How did you get started at a young age, and what inspired you to pursue it? Dolph Lundgren:  I was a 15-year-old kid in Sweden. I lived in a small town and a friend of mine bought this book called Karate . It was Kyokushin karate and had a bunch of guys fighting each other, lifting weights, breaking some wood and it looked pretty badass to us so we thought yeah, we'd like to try that. So it was kind of in my personality to want to go for something that had a real physical challenge in it. Black Belt Magazine: Out of all the martial arts you could choose, Kyokushin karate happens to be one of the most deadly and brutal martial arts, known for its intensity and rigorous discipline. What did you know about this martial art before you began training in it? Dolph Lundgren: Yeah, I started when I was 15. I did some judo and then I did some Goju-Ryu karate, a little taekwondo, and then ended up with Kyokushin.   You know, I was drawn to the fact of feeling stronger as a young boy, feeling I could protect myself. I had a hard relationship with my father. He was quite abusive, and that's one reason I started martial arts. So part of it was trying to feel stronger, and the other part was I was attracted to the spirituality of the martial arts. I didn't really know why, but later in my life, that became kind of more important than the actual fighting aspect.   Black Belt Magazine: Can you take us back to the early days of your training and share some of your most memorable experiences? Dolph Lundgren:  I did judo for a while. I was a kid and I ended up under this big fat guy who was choking me out and he was sweating all over me and I said I don't want to do this anymore. I think I'm going to go for karate where I can stay away from the guy, and throw a few kicks and punches. So that's what I ended up with and just sort of by sheer luck or faith, I ended up with Kyokushin karate which turned out to be perfect for me. Black Belt Magazine: At 6'5", your height must have influenced your martial arts training and techniques. How did your size impact your approach to training and execution? Dolph Lundgren : I realized even when I was younger that I was quite agile for a big guy. I can move pretty well. I can throw high kicks and I could, you know, move out of the way. I try to utilize long techniques like the front kick, roundhouse kick, knees, and try to keep my distance so I wouldn't let the guy get too close to me.   Grace Jones and Mas Oyama Black Belt Magazine: During your college years, you worked as a bouncer and a chance meeting with a celebrity changed your career path from engineering to acting. Can you share that part of your life with us? Dolph Lundgren : Yeah, I was on a scholarship in Sydney, Australia at the University of Sydney. And I didn't have a work permit, but I needed some cash. So I did some stuff on the side. I worked doing security at rock concerts. And a friend of mine who was my sparring partner hooked me up with his gig. I think I made like five bucks an hour or something. I stood by the stage wearing earplugs, you know. But one of the performers was Grace Jones, who was a very famous singer in those days.   She kind of clocked me out there, you know I was this tall blonde fit guy. Me and my friend Mark ended up doing security with her at one of the nightclubs where we went out with her posse. One thing led to another and I spent the night with her. And, you know, we kind of fell in love. I had to stay in Sydney for another six months.   Yeah, so I started training with Mas Oyama in Tokyo and Grace was there doing a Honda commercial and we ended up meeting up again and then I went back with her to New York. I had six months off from school before I was supposed to start at MIT in Boston on a scholarship. So I ended up meeting friends of hers, David Bowie, Michael Jackson, and Andy Warhol and went to Studio 54. And I started thinking that maybe engineering isn't my path. Maybe I should be in show business and do some acting, take some acting classes.   And from there, I decided to quit engineering and start acting.   Black Belt Magazine: You had the opportunity to train in Japan and met the legendary Mas Oyama, often considered the greatest karate master in history. Can you share this story and what you took away from that experience? Dolph Lundgren : I'd met Mas Oyama in Tokyo when I fought at the World Tournament in 1979. I was a kid, 22. And I always looked up to him. I was extremely nervous when I met him. He signed my book and I was shaking, I remember.    I was with Grace, I trained with him again. And I was the European champion and they knew about me in Tokyo as well. I was kind of the hot prospect for the World Tournament in ‘83. But between ‘82 and ‘83, I ended up picking up acting. And next time I met him was when I came to Japan for the Rocky IV  premiere. Since I was a bit of a star, I met him again and trained with him again.   But he was a great guy and nice man and very open and very emotional and very kind of nurturing. He was a very warm person.   Stallone Black Belt Magazine: Can you share the story of your first major starring role as Ivan Drago in Rocky IV ? Stallone mentioned that you hit him so hard that you put him in the hospital. Were you aware of your own strength at the time?   Dolph Lundgren : They said, “Sly was in the hospital.” So Sly was in the hospital with some kind of heart problem. They said it was because of me. I'm not sure. Maybe it was. Maybe he was overworked. Or maybe they're trying to collect the insurance payment. I don't know.   Black Belt Magazine: Some of the most memorable moments in your career, especially with martial arts fans, are the times you spent with Brandon Lee, son of the late Bruce Lee. Can you share a memory from that film and working with him? Dolph Lundgren : I was assigned to do a picture for Warners called Showdown in Little Tokyo . And I was training with a sword master and my coach walked in and it was Brandon Lee. Well, I didn't know who, I thought Brandon Lee, okay, he's an Asian fella. And when I ran into him in the gym, somebody said, it's Bruce Lee's son.   We had a lot of fun, off and on set. You know, Bruce Lee was married to Linda Lee, who was of Swedish heritage. So he'd been to Sweden, and he even spoke a couple of words of Swedish. So we had something in common there. And I really thought he would have, well, I know he would have been a huge star, but unfortunately, he got killed in an accident a few years later. So it was very sad actually, but he was a very nice guy.   Schwarzenegger Black Belt Magazine: Arnold Schwarzenegger shared that you have been working out together for over 40 years. What did you learn from his training philosophy, and what valuable lessons did he teach you? Dolph Lundgren : Arnold Schwarzenegger, I met him way back, 40, what is it, 42 years ago. I was in Mexico for Conan the Destroyer  which was the sequel to Conan the Barbarian  and Grace Jones was in it. I came on set and Arnold was with all his guys like Sven from Denmark and all these big guys. They were lifting 300 pounds and I was a fighter so I worked out with them and he was always very nice to me. I wasn't in show business yet. I was gonna become a fighter, so I was doing a lot of running and in a bag and stuff. But he was very nice to me.  Then I kind of lost contact with him. I did the Rocky movie and I was renting a house in Coldwater Canyon here. And Grace had one of her many late-night parties. I was trying to get some sleep because I had to get up at seven to train with Sly. And there were all these people out there drinking and I was sleeping in the guest house, earplugs. Somebody was banging on the door and I'm like…”Who the hell is it? What's going on?”  And I heard somebody out there going, “It's your trainer. I'm here to check your abs. Open the door.” There's Arnold with a big cigar. And that kind of sums him up, you know. He's just a great guy. We've had some good times together.   I just kind of studied him, same with Stallone. They were very driven. They always trained before going to work in the morning, even if it was five a.m., and they would adjust their lifting schedule, depending on how much work they had to do as actors. You know, they were very flexible. I think the dedication and the flexibility are something I try to pick up from them.   Setbacks and Resets Black Belt Magazine: As you approach 20 years of directing, what inspired you to start, and what have been the biggest challenges and most rewarding aspects of this part of your craft? Dolph Lundgren : I was gonna star in a movie back in 2005 called The Defender . It was in Eastern Europe and the director got sick and was an older guy, Sidney Fury, who did a movie with Marlon Brando and Diana Ross. He was a really great director and the producers asked him, “We need a replacement within a week, who should we ask?” And he said, “What about Dolph?” And they're like, “Who?”   Sidney said, “Dolph's pretty clever with a script, and he's really organized. He could be a good director.” So he asked me and I said “Yes.”  I had like 10 days to prep for it. But I think I did a pretty decent job. At the time I was living in Spain, was married, and my career started heading downhill.  I took like a 90% salary cut there for a while. And somehow I tried to save my career by directing movies because I knew more about it myself than most of the other directors they could afford to hire. So I directed four or five movies in a row. And then after that, I ended up in The   Expendables  series, which brought me back onto the big screen again.   We all go through hardships. I went through some hardships from my divorce and my career. I was kind of in the toilet for a while, in 2005, 2007, and 2008, before The Expendables . And people came to me and things appeared in my life, positive things, that I think the universe brought to me.    In the last five years, I've gone through a medical battle. I mean, five years ago, I found out that I had kidney cancer. So I went through a medical battle, chemo, and a bunch of tough times. And miraculously, things have gotten so much better. So I went from someone telling me I had a few years left to live, to being virtually healthy now. And I think that energy that I put out earlier in my life has come back to me and sort of saved my life, really. That's how I look at it. So I think it really works. For me, it's worked really well, anyway. Lessons Learned   Black Belt Magazine: You have played villains and heroes, is there a character you most relate to in real life? Dolph Lundgren : I'm pretty close to Ivan Drago in one way because when I was a kid, 27 years old, I was a little bit like him. I mean, I wasn't maybe as cold-blooded as he was in the movie, but I was kind of indestructible and trained a lot. He was very innocent in one way like he's a very innocent guy who's being used by the Soviet system. Well, I was a very innocent Swedish guy who was kind of being, in one way, absorbed by Hollywood and had to deal with that.   And then 35 years later, I ended up in this movie called Creed II , where I got to play this character again; an older, wiser version, more compassionate version. And I guess that's the journey I've made as a man.  Black Belt Magazine: In a previous interview, you mentioned that when you put love out there, you get it back. Is this a philosophy you learned or developed over time?   Dolph Lundgren : You know, I think even since I was a kid, I was always quite compassionate and felt sorry for people that were on hard times. People who were weak or were suffering. I always felt sorry for them because I was abused by my dad and also I had allergies. I couldn't really do sports when I was a kid. So I think I always had a lot of empathy for other people. And so I always try to be nice to everybody in my career as a fighter and as an actor. And then later in life.   Black Belt Magazine: As people age, their training routines often change. However, your training seems remarkably consistent, as evidenced by your always being in great shape. How have you adjusted your training from your 20s to now?   Dolph Lundgren : Well, I had a hard time because I did the chemo and I also had ankle surgery. I injured my ankle in the Swedish military when I was about 23 years old.   And I was on that ankle for 45 years afterward, even though I was supposed to fix it earlier. But I had surgery a couple of years ago, so I was kind of compromised in my mobility as well. But I think there's no real magic bullet. You just gotta get up in the morning and have a decent...practically, you know, enforceable schedule, nothing too crazy, and you know, something you can do every day, you're trying to improve a little bit.  But I think strength training is important as you get older in combination with, I discovered Pilates actually, because it's quite relaxing, you can do it at home, I mean without equipment, just floor Pilates, and it's very good for your core. So it kind of replaces the martial arts, which I couldn't do because of my ankle but now I can do martial arts again.  In my current regiment, I try to balance it depending on what I'm doing. In my life and if I'm filming or if I'm in LA at home. But usually, I try to get two days of strength training every week and I try to get two days of cardio or karate or a hike or Pilates or something where you practice mobility and conditioning. Keeping that balance is tough in life when you get older because you lose mobility, you also lose muscle mass. So you're trying to do both. And if you overdo one, if you lift too much, then you kind of neglect the other part and you get too stiff to do the other stuff.     I think the important thing is to keep that balance in your life, to keep your mobility, flexibility in your muscles, your condition, and your strength. So when you're young, when you're 25, there's no problem. You can do all those things without thinking about it. But as you get older, I think the balance is, at least I've found, what's really important, to feel good and to help your health and your body to recover and stay young.   “Discipline is also putting off something you want now for something you get later.” Evidence that Dolph Lundgren Might be Superhuman Standing to 6’5” Lundgren holds the rank of 4th dan black belt in Kyokushin karate and became the European champion in 1980 and 1981. Dolph Lundgren holds a master's degree in chemical engineering from the University of Sydney. He was also awarded a Fulbright Scholarship to MIT, although he left to pursue his acting career. Lundgren speaks several languages, including English, Swedish, German, French, Spanish, Japanese, and some Italian. Lundgren has an IQ of 160. For perspective, that's the estimated IQ of Albert Einstein. Oh, and Lundgren is an accomplished musician, particularly with the drums. He played the drums in a rock band during his college years. Not to mention, he looks like a Norse God who caught the eye of famed aesthetes like Grace Jones and Andy Warhol.

Martial arts were never meant to be safe, convenient, or purely recreational. They were born from violence, refined by necessity, and preserved because they worked. Somewhere along the way, many practitioners forgot that. When martial arts schools began appearing across the United States in the 1960s and 1970s, the message was clear and unambiguous: this is for self-defense . Advertisements didn’t hide behind euphemisms. Schools promised protection, survival, and real-world effectiveness. Some openly used phrases like street defense  or street fighting —language that would be considered unacceptable in many modern academies. Circa 1970's Count Dante the contreversial figure who branded himself as the deadliest man in the world professing to teach the "deady secrets of self defense" That era was shaped by postwar realism and cultural disruption. Figures like Bruce Lee famously rejected “organized despair” and tradition for tradition’s sake. His message wasn’t subtle: if your art doesn’t work under pressure, it doesn’t work—period. That philosophy didn’t just influence Jeet Kune Do; it laid intellectual groundwork for modern MMA and contemporary combatives. Early Bruce Lee training for Black Belt Magazine's article on his philosophy, which he challenged the world to "liberate themselves from classical karate" Fast forward to the 1980s. Martial arts exploded commercially. Schools grew larger. Children’s programs multiplied. Belt systems expanded. With that growth came a shift in language and intent. Self-defense  quietly moved to the background, replaced by a more marketable phrase: life skills. Respect. Discipline. Confidence. Focus. All valuable traits—but traits that were once byproducts  of learning how to fight, not substitutes for it. Today, some instructors openly admit that self-defense is one of the least emphasized aspects of their curriculum. In certain systems, it has been almost entirely removed. Olympic-style Taekwondo—descended from the efforts of Choi Hong-hi —has become a highly specialized sport with little connection to civilian violence. Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, once promoted by Hélio Gracie  as a method for smaller individuals to survive real fights, now the art and its new generation splits cleanly between competition academies and self-defense-focused schools. None of this is accidental. Drawing on documented interviews, including his 2002 conversation with Black Belt Magazine , Hélio Gracie  made his position clear: true proficiency in a martial art could only be proven through direct testing against other fighting systems . For Gracie, theory, tradition, and cooperative training were never enough. An art had to be pressure-tested against resisting opponents from different disciplines to reveal its strengths and expose its weaknesses. By openly challenging boxers, wrestlers, judoka, and practitioners of other styles—and encouraging his students to do the same—Gracie demonstrated that Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu was not merely conceptual or stylistic, but functional under real resistance. In doing so, he didn’t just validate his own system; he helped redefine how the martial arts world measures effectiveness. History suggests he didn’t just believe this philosophy—he proved it. So today, imagine a student—or an instructor—openly challenging another school to test their style . In the highly litigious world we now inhabit, that idea would likely be shut down before the conversation even began. Liability waivers, insurance policies, and legal counsel have replaced the informal challenge matches that once shaped reputations and refined technique. Yet the disappearance of those challenges raises an uncomfortable question. If styles are no longer tested against one another, how do we now define effectiveness? More importantly, has self-defense—once the non-negotiable foundation of martial arts—quietly slipped down the list of priorities? That question doesn’t have an easy answer, but it deserves an honest discussion. So let’s be direct—and deliberately provocative and count down the Top 10 Reasons People Practice Martial Arts Today , starting with the least controversial and ending with the one we’ve arguably softened the most. 10. For the Love of the Art Some people train simply because they love training. No justification required. Historically, this mirrors older warrior cultures where martial practice was inseparable from identity. You didn’t ask why —you trained because that’s who you were. 9. Self-Discipline Discipline was once forged through physical hardship, not motivational slogans. Fighters like Mas Oyama  didn’t talk about discipline—they embodied it. Discipline wasn’t taught; it was survived. 8. Self-Confidence Confidence used to come from capability. Today, it often comes from reassurance. The uncomfortable truth is that confidence built without pressure testing is fragile—and history shows that martial confidence was never meant to be theoretical. 7. Community Martial arts have always created tribes. Dojos, gyms, and schools form bonds that keep people training long after motivation fades. Community is powerful—but it was never the primary  purpose of training. It was the glue, not the foundation. 6. Mental Fitness Long before mindfulness apps, martial arts emphasized mental clarity. Jigoro Kano  promoted judo as a means of cultivating character and intellect. But mental refinement was inseparable from physical struggle—not a replacement for it. 5. Legacy Martial arts were traditionally inherited, not sampled. Family lines and teacher-student lineages preserved knowledge through responsibility, not convenience. Today, legacy still draws people in—but it sometimes keeps systems frozen rather than functional. 4. Competition Competition didn’t create martial arts—but it reshaped them. Modern rule sets reward specialization, athleticism, and optimization. That’s not inherently wrong. But sport training answers a different question than self-defense ever did. 3. Cultural Preservation Some arts survive as living museums—preserving language, rituals, and traditions. This matters. But history is clear: culture was preserved because  the art worked, not despite it. When function disappears, culture eventually follows. 2. Physical Fitness Martial artists were never “getting in shape”—they were preparing for violence . Today, martial arts offer longevity, mobility, and conditioning in a way few activities can. Fitness is a powerful benefit—but it was never the original goal. 1. Self-Defense This is the uncomfortable one. The word martial  comes from Mars—the god of war. Martial arts were created for conflict, survival, and domination under pressure. Military and law enforcement units still train in combative systems today—though most now favor adaptive, mixed-method approaches rooted in wrestling, boxing, jiu-jitsu, and Muay Thai rather than rigid tradition. And yet, in many modern schools, self-defense is optional. Minimized. Sanitized. The irony is impossible to ignore: the reason martial arts exist is now often the reason least discussed. The Real Question Martial arts didn’t lose their way. They adapted—to economics, to parents, to sport, to safety, to culture. But adaptation always comes with trade-offs. So the real question isn’t what should martial arts be . It’s this: If self-defense disappeared entirely from your training, would anything essential actually be missing? Your answer tells you exactly why you train.

In 2022, Teshya Noelani Alo made her official entrance into competitive Jiu-Jitsu, not really knowing what to expect.   Little did she know, Alo was going to face, in her first match, an opponent who would soon come to be recognized as the best pound-for-pound Jiu-Jitsu player in the world.  Standing across from Alo in that first contest was a 14-year-old Helena Crevar. Four years later, the two will meet again in Thailand in a much-anticipated rematch at ONE Championship on Friday, February 23.  Alo has come a long way skill-wise since the first bout, leaving fans intrigued by how the second meeting between the two could potentially play out differently. I read that you started training Judo at seven years old under your dad.  What was it like training under a family member as opposed to another trainer? Training with my dad was normal for me.  He kind of knew when I was slacking and when I would fake the hard work when I was young, so it was difficult, for sure.   He really was not letting me slack off, but I’m so grateful for that because if I didn’t know what true hard work was when I was young and how it would pay off.  I wouldn’t be here today, accepting this match because (hard work) is what it takes to be a champion – pushing through when you really don’t want to –  like when you’re crying to get off the mat and you still push yourself to become the best person possible and to get better every day.   Looking back, it was a lot of hard work, and he really did push me.  It was fun, too.  He made games out of it.  I didn’t really know that I missed a lot of the other fun things growing up because my dad made training fun for us.    All I knew was practice, so growing up into high school, it got easier to say ‘no’ to the parties.  I knew if I went to a party, I probably wouldn’t be (winning on the mat) that weekend.  It was easier to say no to things that wouldn’t help me achieve my goal, and my dad really helped me see that. You said your dad would make games out of training to keep things fun.  What advice would you give to parents working with their kids in similar fashion? Anything you put your child in, they should enjoy.  My parents had a rule.  I got to choose (a sport), so I did basketball, gymnastics, tennis, golf – and I chose wrestling.   I fell in love with that sport and, after I chose it, they said ‘Are you sure because when you stick with it, you’re not allowed to quit.’ We’re constantly supposed to be in something that moves our bodies in a healthy outlet.  I chose wrestling and judo at that time. How did you find judo and wrestling to complement each other? At the time, you were allowed to touch the (opponent’s) legs in judo.  Even for the black belt requirement, you need to do kata, which involves grabbing the legs, so it was takedown, throws and trips, and more set ups.  That helped me a lot with my wrestling. After those two sports, I joined Jiu-Jitsu because Judo, when you get older, you need to learn how to choke and do armbars, so Judo helped me with Jiu-Jitsu.  I would learn the ground portion of Jiu-Jitsu, and wrestling was the standing part.  I really didn’t think I would purse Jiu-Jitsu like I am now.   When you added Jiu-Jitsu to your training, what were your initial impressions of it as opposed to wrestling? I thought of it more as an accessory. It wasn’t my main sport, but It definitely helped me figure out movements.  It creates reactions and learning how action/reaction works helped me.  Wrestling is double leg versus single leg, and then, from an armbar to a triangle to a seoi nage to a backward throw.  It helped me figure out the different combos I could throw. Just recently – I want to say at the beginning of the year - I finally learned how to bring all three sports together and use them for my benefit – how to time my trips and attacks.  I don’t really use my wrestling takedowns because, with a lot of wrestling moves, you put yourself in vulnerable positions.  So, I learned the hard way when I first started Jiu-Jitsu, but finally learned where I’m safe and not safe.  That was a big thing for me. What do you think clicked in your mind after all that time? I stopped being so stubborn because, as a wrestler, I don’t want to be on my back.  I don’t even sleep on my back.  As a wrestler, I always had that mindset.  Now, I’m on my back and comfortable where I was most uncomfortable.   I’ve worked a lot on my guard, and that helped me a lot.  Seeing where I’m weak in the guard helped me become a top player because I wanted to put (my opponent) in the position I was just in.  I still don’t like to go to my back.  I don’t know what it is.  But, if I go to my back, at least I know I’m safe. You were out of Jiu-Jitsu training for a number of years.  What was it like when you started back up during the COVID-19 pandemic? I re-started Jiu-Jitsu (training) because I was a heavy eater, and was around 150’ish (pounds).  I didn’t want to just stay at home and do nothing and could have run, but I hate running.   My mom saw (training happening) at the beach where I used to live.  I joined (trainer Nick Alcaran’s class) once a week.  He then invited me to his main gym, and I entered the world championships for blue belt a couple of months after that. Going back to your early days, I read that one of your first opponents was a boy.  What was it like competing against someone of the opposite sex? That was normal for me.  My sister and I were the only girls in the wrestling room growing up.  In the (national tournament) bracket we entered, there were 60 boys.  We were the only girls.  I want to say, up until a certain age, I was like ‘I just can’t do this anymore because they’re just too strong’. I heard you beat the same boy in a rematch.  What did you learn from the first match that helped you prevail in the rematch? (The loss) was a big mental block I finally was successful with because, he not only beat me, he also threw me.  I was crying.   I did not want to wrestle again, but we have a rule (in my family) that you can’t give up, so I went back and it slowly dawned on me that I could beat this boy.  (I said) ‘I have to train harder’.  My mom and dad tried to comfort me.  I trained my butt off and told myself I wasn’t ever going to cry during another match. That was a big turning point because I came back and I beat him.  I didn’t only beat him.  I did all the technical moves and I really showed up.  I was really proud of myself. After that win, I knew that I wanted to stick with the sport because I proved to myself that I could get better.  (I said) ‘Set small goals for yourself, and you’ll get there’.  Instead of (being taken) down six times today, let’s work on getting taken down only five times.  Slowly, I started attacking more, and I found my style of wrestling, and the rest was history.  What advice would you give to young girls who, like you, don’t have many or any female training partners and have to compete against boys? I say that’s the best thing for you.  Keep going, never give up and don’t be negative in your head.  All positive thoughts.  Off the mats, your life doesn’t change, so just set small, realistic goals for yourself, and never give up.  Train with the boys.  You’ll thank them later. You’ve won many titles.  Which do you hold the most sacred? It would probably be the Senior U.S. Open Olympic Trials Qualifier because I was able to defeat a past Olympian in my finals match by a good amount of points.  Almost 100 percent of my attacks were successful.  Also, maybe the sixth time I won FARGO (High school nationals) because I had no points scored on me. Touching on your upcoming match, you’ve faced Helena Crevar in the past.  What was the outcome of the first match and what did you learn? I fought Helena in 2022.  I think I had just gotten my purple belt.  It was my first no gi match.  I had no idea what a heel hook was or how to defend it.  I didn’t know who she was either, so I wasn’t expecting anything specific.  I treat every match the same so, when I was in the match, I was like ‘Wow.  I don’t know how to pass this girl’s guard. It’s weird.’  Everything felt unfamiliar to me. So, I got stuck in her guard and I got (penalized) for stalling, and the match ended. What do you think your keys to success will be in the rematch? I think if I just play my game - not her game - and show everything I’ve been working on, I will succeed.  I try not to be known as the wrestling girl, but instead more of a Jiu-Jitsu player.   This time, you will be competing in a very historic arena.  How, if any way, does that change what is at stake for you? It doesn’t really change anything for me.  To me, the only thing that will be different is that the match will be in a (ring).   I have had matches in cages and a boxing ring, but this (ring) will be different.  I don’t see the match turning out too differently.

At just 18 years old, Helena Crevar has already made history as the youngest pound-for-pound female Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu player in the world.  The Las Vegas native also represents the latest evolution of the martial art and is setting a new standard for the prototypical competitor in a combat sport that is gaining steam in the U.S. and elsewhere around the world. On Friday, January 23, Crevar, who is also the first female martial artist in history to earn a black belt under world renowned trainer John Danaher, will revisit a previous matchup with fellow decorated grappler Teshya Noelani Alo.   This time, though, the two won’t battle it out on Jiu-Jitsu mats.  They’ll be facing off in the ONE Championship ring placed under the bright lights of the most famous Muay Thai arena in the world – Lumpinee Stadium.   How did your journey in martial arts begin for you at such a young age? I’ve been training sports since I was 3 years old, and it was my parents wanting to put me in activities to have something to do as a physical activity and to also make friends and gain experience and discipline.  So, I tried many things, and I found Jiu-Jitsu at age 8, and it was something I really enjoyed and knew I wanted to do right away. What did you initially like about martial arts training? It was just something that I found to be fun because I could constantly learn.  Jiu-Jitsu felt like the perfect thing because it was a puzzle to solve and something that I could do that wasn’t as rough as boxing or Muay Thai.  It’s also an activity that lets you experiment with different things. Who are some of the individuals who inspired you along the way? When I was young, I didn’t follow professional Jiu-Jitsu.  It was my parents supporting me and my coaches at that time who were great for my growth.  Before I moved to Texas to train with New Wave (Jiu-Jitsu), I was watching Gordon Ryan’s competitions and John Danaher’s instructional videos. I understand you progressed from a purple belt to a black belt in just 9 months, and were the first woman awarded a black belt by John Danaher.  What was your secret to such an incredible trajectory? It’s amazing to have been promoted that quickly by John Danaher, and it was really because I had won a no-gi rules purple belt (that allowed me) to be promoted to brown (belt).  Six months later I won gi rules at brown belt, which allowed me to be promoted to black (belt).   My professor had wanted to promote me even before that, but it was just not possible because of the time limits.  It was also my hard work, staying focused and looking to improve as much as I can. What was the feeling like when you got your black belt? It was amazing. It had been a goal of mine ever since I started, to become a Jiu-Jitsu black belt.  It was even better to earn it from the best instructor in the world, John Danaher. A lot of fighters move to Las Vegas from other geographic locations, but you did the reverse, moving from Las Vegas to Texas.  How did your family come to that decision? My parents and I were looking to move to Texas because there’s more nature and (we wanted) to have better living standards. (At the same time), New Wave had just moved from Puerto Rico to Texas, so it was ideal for us to move at that time because I had gotten the opportunity to train with the team.  So, (in Texas) I could train with the best and we could make the move that we were already planning. How was it acclimating to a new environment like Texas and how did your martial arts training help you adapt to the new environment? It was the first time that I had moved, and I was like 15 (years old).   Before that I had only lived in Vegas.  It was very different in terms of the climate.  Vegas is very dry – it’s a desert - and Texas is humid and has a lot more greenery.    All my friends were in Vegas too, and the only people I knew in Texas were the people that trained at Team New Wave.  It was different, but I really enjoyed it, and I love Texas now so much more than Vegas. You are a Jiu-Jitsu world figure who is helping define new baseline for women in the sport.  How do you see the world of BJJ evolving from here, and what do you see as the future in terms of skill level and particular attributes that successful competitors will have?  I’ve already seen Jiu-Jitsu grow so much since I started - like these professional events coming up and athletes being able to get paid from competitions and sponsorships, and the skill level of the athletes is really going up. Before, there weren’t many people who did leg locks, for example, and now there are a lot of people coming up with new moves and new positions, so I’m sure in the next 5 to 10 years, it’s going to get even bigger in terms of professional competitions, athletes pay and the technical (aspects of the art). Why do you think people are coming up with new moves? Jiu-Jitstu is never ending, and you can always learn and experiment with new things, so it’s really something you can never completely learn.  Because people train so much, it’s easy to come up with things and make those things work. I’m sure you’ve been asked this, but to what extent have you considered taking your skills to MMA? Currently, I’m really focusing on Jiu-Jitsu.  I’ve tried boxing and Muay Thai before, and they weren’t my favorite things, so right now I’m really just focusing on Jiu-Jitsu. How would you compare a pure Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu practitioner’s grappling skills to those of an MMA fighter? I’ve seen MMA fighters that have very decent Jiu-Jitsu and are very talented at that, although it is harder to be very good at all the aspects of MMA.  But, I’ve seen a lot of MMA fighters that have as good Jiu-Jitsu skills as some Jiu-Jitsu fighters. In what ways do you think it can be difficult for a Jiu-Jitsu fighter to apply his or her Jiu-Jitsu skills in MMA? (MMA) is a lot different because you have to focus on not getting hit or hitting the other person, and also being on bottom is not the  most ideal thing.   In Jiu-Jitsu, for example, you use the closed guard from the bottom and (you can be) the person who is controlling the match.  In MMA, though, it can be completely different because the person on top is able to throw punches and control the position from there.  So, you want to be on top in MMA. In MMA, it’s also harder to go for leg locks because of the fact that you’re kind of giving up your body to punches. An article that I read referenced your training as  three to four hours per day.  What do you think is key to avoiding burnout, and what advice would you offer to students to avoid a pitfall like that? For me, I’ve never really had (burnout) just because I enjoy Jiu-Jitsu so much, but there are days when I feel tired and not as excited to train.  If I have one of those days, maybe I take a day off or do a lighter training session to give my mind and body a rest.  That’s why I do five days a week, and take two days off, so that way, it’s never too tiring for me and I never burn out. Of all your accomplishments, what do you consider your single greatest? Maybe becoming the number one pound for pound ranked athlete in the sport, and the youngest – male or female – to do that.  I’ve been competing for a couple years now and to be able to do that so quickly at such a young age is amazing to me. Touching on your match coming up, how do you see this rematch playing out, knowing your opponent? It is a rematch, but it also happened three years ago, and, in three years, a lot can change in Jiu-Jitsu.  I’m sure both of us have improved since the last time we fought.  It’s also a different rule set and the match is almost twice as long as the first one.  The last time, it was a very aggressive match and I’m sure this time it will be the same, with both of us pushing the action. How do the rules differ from the first match? Last time, it was in the ADCC Open, so the match was six minutes - three minutes with points, and three minutes no points - so it went a lot quicker and points played (a role), while this one in ONE Championship will be a ten minute match that is submission only, which will push us even harder to go for a finish. Also, in ADCC the match took place on Jiu-Jitsu mats, while in ONE Championship, it’s going to happen in a ring, and that can play a role in the match. Given the difference in rules, how did that affect your preparation? I don’t really do preparation for specific rule sets because I compete very often and under all different rule sets.   It’s just a matter of switching my mind, when I get in there, to focus on the rule set at hand. My favorite rule is submission only, which is ONE Championship’s rule set, so that will be motivating me.

It’s mid-afternoon, and Andrea Meneses is in the middle of a break between training sessions. Meneses – born in Barcelona and raised in Gava by a single father – is a lifelong resident of Spain, but she is in the trendy Wynwood section of Miami, preparing at the Goat Shed Academy for her upcoming Combate Global MMA fight against undefeated American Janet Garcia. “This is the best training camp I have ever had as a professional,” said the 27-year-old Meneses, a former national amateur MMA champion, who has been grinding away to make a name for herself in Combate Global’s atomweight (105 pounds) division and the highly competitive combat sport, overall. She hit a snag in her last fight against fellow standout Kayla “Kayrock” Hracho, losing a unanimous decision to the American fighter, and is looking to get back on the winning track when she faces Garcia. “One of the best advantages of training (at Goat Shed) is that I can train with more women, and women at the same level as me because, at home, the women I train with are amateur fighters”. Life for Meneses wasn’t always about pursuing MMA greatness, though. Wind the clock back nearly two decades. An 8-year-old Meneses is walking down the street with her grandfather in the town of Gava, when the pair suddenly come across Kyodai, a neighborhood Kyokushinkai karate dojo.  The school catches their attention and, after a quick visit inside, she is registered for her first class. “When I was young, my family wanted me to latch onto a sport and start practicing it, but I didn’t want to get into traditional sports that are very much a part of Spanish culture, like volleyball or soccer,” she said candidly. Meneses was instantly hooked on the martial art, thanks, in great part, to her instructor and newfound mentor, Sensei Herman Calado, the man that she says has had the greatest influence on her life and her career as a combat sports athlete. “He made me the fighter that I am now in terms of not only technique, but also values. He taught me everything I know,” she proclaimed. Meneses describes Sensei Calado’s curriculum as very “intense” and “physically demanding” but was quick to point out that sensei was very adamant about proper conduct amongst students. “He promoted respect among training partners,” she said. “Even if you started moving up level-wise, he never promoted or allowed someone to be a bully to the students who were lower ranked, or below you level-wise.” As she became more and more engrossed in training, she found herself wanting to achieve something that would distinguish her within the art. It was that competitive edge that pushed her to enter her first karate competition event in Barcelona, just 10 months after she set foot in the dojo. Meneses went on to fight in dozens of regional tournaments over the course of the next five years, winning numerous titles along the way. “I was regularly finishing in first or second place, so I always took home a trophy,” she said. It was in 2013 that she reached her first national level tournament – the “Copa Seishin” in Barcelona, where, in one day, she defeated two opponents to become Spanish national champion. “(Winning the tournament) was an incredible feeling because I had trained for it for seven months,” Meneses said. Two years later, she returned to the ‘Copa’, this time conquering three opponents in the same day to become a two-time champion. The tournament championships were a career milestone, indeed, but testing for her black belt when she was 16 years old was a moment that was also of massive importance to her.  Like she had to do in order to attain previous belts, Meneses was required to perform a kata to be considered for a promotion. “I prepared for the exam, but I was still really nervous because you don’t get the result right away. You have to wait like a week or so,” she explained.  Then, decision day arrived. She had passed. “It was really exciting when I got the black belt because I felt like I had achieved one of my main purposes from when I first started training,” said Meneses. “Even after I achieved that, though,” she continued, “I still wanted to pursue higher levels and techniques.” Around seven years ago, Meneses, a decorated, two-time national karate champion and experienced black belt, came across video footage of Ronda Rousey tearing through opponents in the UFC.  Meneses loved what she saw on screen and, like she had for many other women, Rousey became a sudden inspiration for the Spanish martial artist, convincing Meneses to pursue the life of a professional MMA fighter. She started out on the amateur circuit in 2017, defeating opponent Sheila Medina by way of guillotine choke in Meneses’s first-ever fight that took place on her 21 st  birthday. Meneses described the feeling of stepping in the cage as a mix between “imposing” and “exciting”. “I was kind of naïve because I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I was really familiar with the Tatami, but getting into a cage was very different.” After less than two years and four amateur fights, Meneses made the leap to professional status. “I actually wanted to do more amateur fights, but back in the day, there were very few female fighters,” Meneses explained.  Fortunately, she partly made up for her lack of experience in the cage by finding a home at Uppercut Training Center, the Barcelona-based MMA camp led by retired former MMA fighter Oriol Gaset and Ramón Maneiro. “It was mere luck that I came across an MMA gym,” she said. The Barcelona-based Uppercut, which represented Spain in the 2022 COMBATE GLOBAL ‘Exclusivos’ competition reality television series, was already home to a number of seasoned MMA athletes that Meneses could train with and learn from. She also quickly discovered a key difference between her daily training in karate and training in her newfound love, MMA. “The physical conditioning in MMA is more important and different because of all the things you have to do in the cage; You have to wrestle, grapple, strike and move around the cage,” she explained. Meneses got off to a fast start as a professional winning her first four fights and has still yet to suffer a knockout or lose by submission. “I will never settle down because I am really competitive. The bigger picture for me is becoming Combate Global in the atomweight division.” While she does not have Sensei Calado in her corner for her MMA fights (Gaset or Maneiro travel with her to the U.S. for Combate Global fights), Meneses said she remains close with her beloved instructor and that, even though MMA tends not to be the “favorite” sport of karate instructors, Sensei Calado respects “my decision and supports me.” How does your family feel about you competing in MMA and, before that, karate? “Some members of my family are not really happy that I practice a contact sport, but my close family has been really supportive of my career. My dad is my number one fan. I have always felt supported by the closest members of my family.” I really feel the sport even now. I am aware of the fact that this is something that my family might have not wanted for me but, for example, everyone supported me going from Spain to the U.S. for training. That is the kind of support I need to pursue this career. What kind of positive impact did karate training have on your childhood? One of the main things would be discipline and the other is respect – not only to my opponents, but also to the discipline and the trainers. From the beginning, I grabbed onto these values, and they have stayed with me for life. What I also learned is that I wanted to pursue a professional career in the sport. I knew that I wouldn’t become a professional karate (player) because that’s not something you can really pursue, but when I made the switch to MMA, I knew I wanted to become professional and that’s when I started to link all the disciplines. What was the transition like at first when you went from karate to MMA training, and how were you able to adapt? Even though I had a bunch of mobility and kicking technique, I really had to learn new skills because I didn’t know the fundamentals of wrestling, grappling and boxing that are critical to being successful in MMA. I had perfected mobility and kicking, but there was a period of time that I spent transitioning. Describe the difference between stances in karate and MMA. How challenging was it to change fighting stances after all the time you had spent training and competing in karate? I really feel that it wasn’t much trouble (transitioning) between the stances, because the type of karate I was practicing was very straightforward.  So, when I started learning a new stance, some of the adjustments I made were to keep my hands up more, since you hold your hands lower down in Karate. It was a pretty easy transition, though. When you say “technique”, from a technical standpoint, how did your existing Karate technique and fundamentals carry over to MMA? It was mainly kicking. Kyokushin is very technical and focuses on accuracy with kicking. When I fight, you can see how experienced I am in Karate because I started learning how to properly kick when I was eight years old. Describe what kinds of traditional moves you use in La Jaula (the Combate Global competition cage). In my striking, I kick hard and I am determined regardless of whether I am fighting on a Tatami or in La Jaula. I am not afraid of kicking, even though I might get (hit with) an elbow or punch in return, because I’ve been kicking ever since I started Karate. So, I’m very confident in my kicking and have no problem committing to my kicks.  What do you have to say to critics of traditional martial arts, who claim it is dated, doesn’t work in real life and that MMA is much better if you want to learn how to fight? If you’ve never done any type of martial arts before, and you want to start getting involved more, then Mixed Martial Arts is a great way of getting into that. But, if you come from a place like karate or taekwondo, you understand that having that base is really important. I feel like I wouldn’t be the MMA athlete I am nowadays if I had never trained karate before because of the fundamentals and discipline it teaches.

Around eight years ago, Carlo Bumina-ang's daily routine involved waking up early to help his mother transport bananas from their harvest to his small stall in the Philippines’ Baguio Market. On Friday, January 23, at ONE Fight Night 39 in Bangkok, Thailand, the 31-year-old will face undefeated Brazilian star Marcos Aurelio in a bantamweight MMA showdown that represents how far a person can travel when they dare to bet on themselves.  As the youngest of five siblings growing up in Baguio City, “The Bull” understood early that success required hard work and family came first. The small banana stall wasn't glamorous, but it was honest work that helped support his mother and contributed to his family's livelihood. "I only started MMA in 2018. But before that, I had a small stall in Baguio Market, selling bananas from around 2016 to 2018. I would help my mother deliver her harvest. That was pretty much my life back then," Bumina-ang recalled, his words painting a picture of simple days filled with simple responsibilities. There was nothing wrong with that life – carrying bananas, managing the stall, and helping his mother. Many people find dignity and purpose in such work. But Bumina-ang felt something stirring inside him, a restlessness that comes from watching others chase dreams while you're standing still. And he was watching a lot. During those days, the 31-year-old would watch ONE Championship events. What started as casual viewing evolved into something deeper – an obsession, a calling he couldn't ignore. "I started getting obsessed with MMA. I was watching ONE Championship, I thought to myself, I wanted to try this because after all, I like the idea of punching people," he shared. Growing up in Baguio City meant growing up in the shadow of greatness. Team Lakay, the legendary gym that had produced multiple ONE World Champions, was right there in his hometown.  In 2018, coach Mark Sangiao's team was at its peak, with four simultaneous ONE World Champions – all from Baguio’s Team Lakay, all proving that fighters from the Philippines could conquer the world. Watching those local heroes succeed planted a seed: if they could do it, maybe he could too. The question was whether he had the courage to find out. In 2018, at an age when many fighters are already established or giving up on their dreams, Bumina-ang walked through the doors of Team Lakay – not as someone demanding to be a professional fighter, but humbly, as a student wanting to learn. "I enrolled only as a student, then I enjoyed it. After two months, I told them that I would like to join the Team Lakay [fight team]. Coach Mark observed me during training and then allowed me to compete," Bumina-ang explained, describing how his professional career began. What Coach Mark Sangiao saw during those training sessions was worth developing.  The progression from there reads like a fighter's dream realized through relentless work.  Bumina-ang made his ONE Friday Fights debut in 2023 and immediately showed he belonged. One victory became two, then three, then four, then five consecutive wins. That remarkable streak earned him what every regional fighter dreams of – a $100,000 main roster contract with ONE Championship. What’s more, he became the first MMA fighter to earn the life-changing deal through the ONE Friday Fights platform. Now, he faces perhaps his toughest test in Marcos Aurelio, an undefeated 21-year-old Brazilian phenom with an 8-0 professional MMA record and a Muay Thai title on his resume.  But “The Bull” is ready. Every time the Filipino steps into the ring, he carries with him the memory of those market days, the weight of bananas on his shoulders, the alternative life he could still be living. "I'm grateful because right now I get to do what I love. Looking back five years ago, if I didn't take the risk and bet on myself, I would probably still be carrying bananas and selling them in the market," Bumina-ang reflected, the gratitude in his words unmistakable.

More than a decade ago, Chase Mann was a troubled youth who got in serious trouble for petty vandalism. But today, he is a completely different person. The 29-year-old Arkansas native holds an unblemished 6-0 professional MMA record, and he’s preparing for the biggest moment of his career – his ONE Championship debut against Australia's Isi Fitikefu at ONE Fight Night 39  on Friday, January 23, in Bangkok, Thailand.  The distance between those two versions of Mann isn't measured in miles or years, but in the transformation that happens when a young man finds purpose through fatherhood, redemption through faith, and direction through martial arts.  Mann's childhood was marked by a complexity that many struggle to understand – parents who loved deeply but battled demons they couldn't overcome. Growing up in Paragould, Arkansas, with an older sibling, he experienced firsthand how addiction can co-exist with genuine love and encouragement. "I don't like saying I was a bad kid ‘cause I don't like to put that label on me. But I made a lot of bad choices. My parents were both addicts. They were always very loving, always really encouraging, but they just had an addiction," Mann reflected, his words capturing the nuanced reality of growing up in a household where love and struggle existed side by side. For a teenager who was already navigating the chaos of a home affected by drug addiction, Mann's brushes with the law represented a dangerous trajectory – a young man headed toward becoming another statistic, another wasted life in a system that often fails to save those who need it the most. Then came the moment that changed everything – a moment that arrives for many young men who have been drifting through life without direction or purpose. When the Paragould resident was just 19 years old, his daughter was born. Suddenly, the stakes of his choices became crystal clear. "Once my daughter was born, it kind of just woke up something inside of me. God kept me grounded. God saved my life, and I can say that for sure," Mann shared, describing the awakening that transformed him from a troubled teenager into a young father determined to break the cycles that had defined his childhood. Having a child forced Mann to confront the reality that his choices would either perpetuate the patterns of his upbringing or break them completely. Faith became his anchor during this transformation, providing the spiritual foundation that allowed him to rebuild his life with purpose and direction. Two years after his daughter's birth, at 21 years old, Mann finally started chasing a dream he was always scared to pursue: mixed martial arts. The Arkansas native had been a lifelong fan of the sport and yearned to compete in the cage, but he was always consumed by fear – the fear of losing in front of his friends and family, living on the wrong side of highlight reels for all eternity, and simply not being good enough. Mann knew the clock was ticking, however. It was now or never, and with that, he went to The LC in nearby Lake County to begin his training. What began as a new activity evolved into a true calling – the vehicle through which he could channel his energy, discipline his mind, and build the kind of life he wanted his daughter to witness. The results speak to the completeness of his transformation. Mann has built a perfect 6-0 professional record, showcasing his versatility with victories via both knockout and submission.  But for Mann, his ONE Championship debut represents something beyond personal achievement. He's carrying a message that extends far beyond the ring, a mission that gives every win deeper meaning. "I'm trying to build something here. I'm trying to show these kids who come from nothing, like I did, that you can do anything. If you believe in yourself with God on your side, just with the right mentality, anything's possible. I want to leave a legacy," Mann said, revealing the true purpose driving his career. For the kids watching who find themselves in similar situations, Mann is living proof that you're not defined by your parents' struggles, your own mistakes, or the labels others place on you. You're defined by what you do with your second chance.

Do you remember how you were introduced to the world of martial arts? Unlike many whose stories begin in training halls or as badass kids fighting in back alleys, the story of Bruce Leung (AKA Leung Choi-sang) began backstage, under the lights of Cantonese opera, where every movement had to mean something. In that world, fighting wasn’t separate from performance. Timing, balance, and expression all mattered, and those lessons stayed with Leung long after he stepped away from the stage and onto the screen. Although many fans associate him with Wing Chun, Leung’s primary martial art was Goju-ryu Karate, with Wing Chun as an important part of his training. That combination gave him a grounded, no-nonsense presence that stood out in Hong Kong cinema. His movements were compact and purposeful, his strikes looked heavy, and his fights felt honest—qualities directors valued during the kung fu boom of the 1970s and 1980s, when films were made quickly and authenticity mattered. Leung became a familiar face during that era, appearing in a large number of martial arts films. Sometimes his roles were brief, sometimes more prominent, but his impact was often bigger than his screen time. Western audiences may recognize him from The Tattoo Connection , starring Jim Kelly . Leung’s appearance in the film was short, but he played a crucial role behind the scenes, choreographing the action and helping shape the film’s tough, international flavor. He also crossed paths with Jackie Chan  in Magnificent Bodyguards , remembered as the first Hong Kong movie shot in 3D. Working alongside performers who would become global stars, Leung earned a reputation as a reliable professional—someone who could fight, perform, and adapt without fuss. One of the strangest chapters of his career came when he portrayed Bruce Lee  in the infamous Bruceploitation film The Dragon Lives Again . The movie itself remains notorious, but Leung’s casting speaks to how closely his physicality and skill aligned with the era’s image of martial arts legitimacy. Leung also carried films as a lead, starring in titles such as My Kung-Fu 12 Kicks , Kung Fu: The Invisible Fist , and Black Belt Karate . These projects showcased him as a straightforward, believable screen fighter—never flashy, but always convincing. After stepping away from acting in 1988 with Ghost Hospital , it seemed his time in front of the camera had come to a close. Then, in 2004, Leung returned in unforgettable fashion as The Beast in Kung Fu Hustle , directed by Stephen Chow . It was his first villain role and a moment that reintroduced him to a new generation of fans—this time as a quiet, terrifying presence whose power spoke louder than words. Often grouped among the “Four Dragons of Chinese cinema” alongside Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan, and Ti Lung, Leung Choi-sang followed a very different path. He didn’t chase fame or headlines. Instead, he built a career on skill, professionalism, and trust. His legacy lives in the fights he shaped, the films he strengthened, and the reminder that martial arts cinema was built not just by stars—but by craftsmen who made it all work. Perhaps this is what legacy truly means: for many in the current generation, Leung Choi-sang wasn’t just a name in the credits—he helped nudge the door open for a new generation to step into the world of martial arts.

"Speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far.” Theodore Roosevelt Historical Roots: Can you tell us about the origins of Irish stick fighting and how it evolved over time?   For centuries all across Europe, people trained for using bladed weapons by practicing techniques with wooden sticks: spears, axes, and swords. Over time the stick-training evolved more and more into its own unique way of fighting. In fact, some historians think that the idea for using a two-handed longsword actually came from an earlier staff fighting style with a stick of the same size. In time Irish styles evolved mostly into two main groups that we know of: a two-handed staff style and a one-handed style based on broadsword fencing. Given the number of Irishmen who went abroad to serve in the armies of Europe, it’s not too surprising to find that the one-handed stick style was meant as training for broadsword fencing. You can still use the stick in its own way, but the basic strikes and parries come directly from broadsword fencing.  Cultural Significance: How did Irish stick fighting become an integral part of Irish culture, and what role did it play in the lives of Irish people historically?   Nicol, Erskine. Donnybrook Fair-Call to Fight. 1800s   Well first, it was used as a kind of “contact sport” – very often hurling matches broke down into all-out fights, but in the 18th and 19th centuries people all over Europe and America viewed almost any kind of violence as exciting and a form of entertainment. Modern ice hockey actually comes from playing Hurling and Shinty on ice in Canada, so that gives you an idea of what I mean! Some people think it was also a kind of safety valve for letting off steam in a country almost constantly on the brink of revolution. Some guys did use it as training for a career in the military and at battles like Fontenoy, the Irish Brigade closed with their enemy and engaged in hand-to-hand fighting – little different than faction fighting. Fighting duels with sticks was also a way for the Gaelic Irish to settle disputes amongst themselves and avoid the British courts in Ireland, which they detested. It also laid the foundations for modern Ireland’s tradition of sports. The men who founded the GAA, John Cusack in particular, seem to have known stick-fighting. Some of the earliest Irish boxers like Dan Donnelly were trained stick-fighters first who decided to try this new English sport of pugilism which, in the beginning, used a lot of ideas (like footwork) from fencing. Using fencing concepts was something they were already used to as stick-fighters. And I think modern Irish interest in Asian martial arts and MMA, is all an unconscious legacy of bataireacht.       Bataireacht and Shillelagh: What are the differences between bataireacht and the use of a shillelagh, and how are these terms interrelated?   Bataireacht simply means “stick-fighting” or “fighting with cudgels” in Irish. (Japanese stick-fighting would be Japanese bataireacht for example). Shillelagh is a phonetic translation from Irish into English, of the words “sail” and “éille”, formed into the word “sail-éille”. Sail means (among other things) a cudgel and éille means a thong or strap. So together it means “thonged cudgel” or “a cudgel with a thong”. It’s an English myth that the word comes from a forest in Wicklow. Actually, both terms are found in Dineen’s Irish Dictionary and Thesaurus, the bible of the Irish language. The thong on the cudgel was used like the sword knot is used on broadswords and sabres; if you lost your grip on it, it would still be dangling from your wrist. But today even though “Bataireacht” means just stick-fighting in general, it has become a catchall or slang used by people practicing Irish stick-fighting for any style of specifically Irish stick-fighting. And in a similar way a very long time ago “Sail-éille” became a catchall to describe the various kinds of Irish fighting sticks. So as for the relationship between the two you could look at it as saying “I practice bataireacht with a shillelagh”.     Factions and Violence:   In the 18th century, bataireacht became associated with Irish gangs known as factions. Could you elaborate on how faction fighting shaped the practice of bataireacht?   Well, the competition for success between factions seems to have caused the bar for stick-fighting to be raised high. It was also looked upon as a kind of gladiatorial fighting so in one “match” people would want to see two guys (or factions) trained in the same style of stick-fighting compete against each other to see who was the best in a fair and equal fight. But in another situation, they might have liked to see people from different styles (and people using other weapons like swords or scythes), compete against each other to see how each style or weapon stood up against one another. Could a man with a three-foot stick beat a man armed with a scythe? Could a man armed with a five-foot-long stick beat a man armed with two sticks? That sort of thing. It was a constant “arms race” so to speak. Macdonald, Daniel. The Fighter . 1844 Class and Political Overtones:   How did class and political issues influence the faction fights and the practice of bataireacht, as seen in historical accounts?   Well, conditions varied around the country so in Ulster, for example, it was common to see fights between Catholic secret societies like Ribbonmen and Protestant secret societies like the Orange Order. So there you have a combination of everything - political, religious, and class issues all rolled into one. In Munster, there were long-standing family feuds among Gaelic Catholics over control of land which translated into economic power. Within that, there were further societal schisms or fractures based on class: the common farm laborers like the Spailpíns opposing their employers and their hired hands. So the Caravat-Shanavest feud in the early 1800s, for example, was based on tensions between middle-class Catholic small farmers and the very poor wandering laborers whom they employed. So you could argue that the Caravats were a kind of early labor union fighting for better wages. This is ironic because they started out more or less as a Jacobite secret society. Which is another issue: France’s Irish Brigade was disbanded in 1790. The United Irish Rebellion took place in 1798. The old Irish Brigade families were all loyal to the Catholic Bourbon monarchy whereas the United Irishmen were all influenced by French Republicanism and the Jacobins. It's small wonder then that faction fighting exploded onto the scene in the early 1800s.     Decline and Suppression:   What were the main factors leading to the decline of bataireacht by the turn of the 20th century?   The main factor in its decline was the association of bataireacht with factions and the divisiveness of factionalism. After the horrors of An Gorta Mor, there was this strategy among the people who cared that they needed to get serious about a political revolution and take back the country to ensure policies were in place so that this never happened again. I’m not trying to preach here, I’m just saying that we know historically that this was the case. To achieve that they felt the first step was to put a stop to fighting amongst themselves: give up the old-fashioned shillelagh of the village warriors of your grandfathers and pick up the modern new shiny rifle of the soldiers of Ireland, the “vast hidden legion” they used to call it. The decline of factionism was accelerated by An Gorta Mor, but even before that the efforts of the Catholic Church and finally the efforts of Irish nationalists really convinced people that this old custom of fighting at fairs was doing more harm than good. The cool thing was to become a soldier and it became uncool so to speak, to want to have anything to do with stick-fighting and faction fighting. There is evidence to suggest that in the 1840s, the remnant of the old Shanavest Faction seems to have morphed into a faction in Tipperary calling itself the Fenians, and then not much long after that in the 1850’s you have this militant nationalist group calling itself the Fenians. One of the founders of the Irish Republican Brotherhood (and the guy who coined the term “Fenian”), John O’Mahoney, was born into a wealthy family in Tipp., with a lot of land and he could call on about 1000 tenants to have his “back” if he needed them in a faction fight. So it seems like many stick-fighters were in the early ranks of the Fenian movement and voluntarily ceased including bataireacht into their way of life. They became instead intensely committed to the establishment of an Irish Republic and felt that to do that bataireacht had to be sacrificed.   I mean it did not just stop or end overnight, bataireacht was still being practiced until the 1920s but the Irish War of Independence seems to have put an end to that. And one historian even says that she was approached after a lecture by an Irish guy who said he was involved in a faction fight in the 1960s. I wouldn’t doubt it. But a lot of the spirit and competitive rivalries once associated with faction fights and factions, were absorbed into the GAA team system with its county rivalries in Gaelic Games, especially Hurling. Some modern county colors are the same colors of the largest factions in the pre-GAA era.   Modern Revival: How has bataireacht experienced a resurgence in modern times, and what has driven this renewed interest?   Well in 1995 Glen Doyle who taught me this style, was being interviewed by Inside Kung Fu magazine. During that, he mentioned that his father had gotten him started in martial arts as a kid when he taught him boxing and a family style of Irish stick-fighting.  A guy named John Hurley had already been researching the history of Irish stick-fighting and read that interview and contacted Glen asking him to teach anyone, just to make sure it survived because it was such a rare and culturally important thing. And eventually, he did. It took a while to catch on mostly because of the negative stereotypes of stage Irish shilelaghs and “Paddywhackery,” but it just kept growing. In the beginning, it was mostly non-Irish Americans who were open to it but the more people in Ireland see it the more they get it. The Doyle style is pretty amazing. It speaks for itself. Family Traditions: Can you discuss the importance of family traditions in the preservation of bataireacht styles, such as the rince an bhata uisce bheatha? Preservation of the family system is what we are about. The importance of that tradition is passed down from student to student. Our forms are not public knowledge as was the traditional stick fighter's way of teaching. Yes, we use forms, but we call them dances or Rhince (rinka). This is the traditional way of teaching as in Asian martial arts, where it's done to assist the student in remembering techniques. We have a set of rules called the 10 commandments, which is passed to every student in their grading books, and this outlines how we fight. Traditionally each school would be called a hedge school, and each school is a faction under their instructor. The factions are given names for some animals such as mine the fighting hares, others would be named directly after their family. I currently run a hedge school from my house which is taught in the traditional way. And each faction student instructor coach is vehemently proud of their heritage and the link to the Doyle family.       Global Practice:   How has Irish stick fighting gained popularity outside of Ireland, especially in North America, and what appeals to international practitioners?   Well, the revival of it started in North America so it actually gained popularity there first and then made its way back to Ireland really because of Glen Doyle. I think what appeals to people is that the Doyle family style is just really practical. You try it and immediately see how effective and no-nonsense it is. Most Asian martial arts are or were meant to be forms of moving meditation and in the West things like fencing and boxing became sports. So, with the Doyle style you have something truly unique as it's something that comes directly from faction fighting, isn’t a sport, and isn’t a Zen kind of thing. There’s nothing wrong with any of those but the Doyle style is definitely different from most martial arts that people have encountered before. Currently, we are growing substantially throughout the US, Ireland, and Europe, and even have a school called the Macedonia faction in Egypt.  We will continue to grow primarily because of the directness and versatility of the system and the fact that we are a family and that everybody's viewed as a member of that family.  I currently run a coaching course once a year in Ireland for people who want to learn intensively, and this is proving to be very popular.       Reconstructed Styles: What is the role of historical research in reconstructing traditional bataireacht styles, and how do modern practitioners use historical manuals and other sources to revive these techniques? Well, there’s the living style, the reconstructed styles, and then something in the middle where people have taken 10 minutes' worth of “living” techniques from an incomplete style and then tried to reconstruct its missing elements. Since the start of this revival, there’s been a lot of heated debate over whether or not there should be a clear delineation between a living style (like the Doyle family style) and something reconstructed. There are people who want to mix styles and add things that can’t be verified as being real… So, it’s very useful and interesting and fun to research and try to figure things out. It gives you a bigger picture of how people were doing things. But it would be another thing altogether and very very dangerous for example, to say to someone “Here’s my reconstructed style, and by the way you can use this to defend yourself.” That could potentially get someone killed as it’s all purely theoretical. And that’s still a big point of contention among people practicing Irish stick-fighting today. The reconstructed stuff is more in the way of sport and testing and experimentation and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. But I think anyone would agree that that’s very different from a learning style like the Doyle style that takes 2 or 3 years to really learn and master. The Doyle system is a devastating two-handed system using the Shillelagh to shut down and destroy your opponent as quickly as possible. It's based on the pugilistic style of fighting where we punch with the stick, in quick succession or a “fury “of punches to end the confrontation. The style is very quick as it is designed for multiple opponents. As you can see from the pictures not only is it punching but it's also locking or trapping the opponent. Not in the traditional FMA form but in the more direct and controlling method. The system is very destructive as it is in its original form and has not been tampered with over the generations. It deals primarily with” learning on the job,” meaning techniques were developed in actual fighting and these would be added to the system so if something worked it would be used. It's fast and is designed for multiple opponents and our Motto is “ever forward,” meaning we keep going forward into the fight to finish the conflict as quickly as possible. Age is not an issue, in fact, we encourage students of all ages and all backgrounds.

What Is the Ultimate Weapon? Counting Down the World’s Most Dangerous Martial Arts Weapons When martial artists debate the “ultimate weapon,” the answer depends less on mythology and more on function . For this article, effectiveness isn’t about romance or tradition — it’s about what works when lives are on the line. To determine which weapon deserves the title, we evaluated each through three critical lenses: The Criteria Portability  – Can the weapon be easily carried, concealed, or deployed without preparation? Single-Strike Effectiveness  – How much damage can the weapon inflict in one decisive strike? Track Record  – Has the weapon proven itself historically in combat, warfare, or law enforcement? With that framework in place, let’s examine the contenders. Here is our list counting 10 to #1 #10 The Three-Sectional Staff Portability:  Low Single-Strike Effectiveness:  High Track Record:  Moderate Few weapons look as intimidating or as chaotic as the three-sectional staff. Consisting of three wooden or metal rods connected by chains or rope, this traditional Chinese weapon combines the reach of a staff with the unpredictability of a flexible weapon. In skilled hands, the three-sectional staff delivers crushing blunt-force trauma, rapid angular strikes, and the ability to entangle limbs or weapons. A single clean strike can break bones or incapacitate an opponent instantly. But that power comes at a cost. The weapon has one of the steepest learning curves in martial arts, and improper use can be as dangerous to the wielder as the target. Its length and segmented design make it difficult to conceal and slow to deploy in confined spaces. Historically, the three-sectional staff saw limited battlefield use, functioning more as a specialist weapon than a standard issue arm. Verdict:  Fearsome, flashy, and devastating — but unforgiving and impractical outside expert hands. Ranking #9 The Horse Cutter Portability:  Very Low Single-Strike Effectiveness:  Extreme Track Record:  Battlefield Proven This weapon is pure battlefield terror: a long staff capped with a massive, razor-sharp blade capable of disabling mounted warriors and their horses with a single strike. There is no question about its lethality. One successful swing can be instantly fatal. However, that power comes at a cost. The horse cutter requires exceptional strength, conditioning, and skill, and it is entirely impractical outside of warfare. Verdict:  One of the deadliest weapons ever created but too specialized for everyday dominance. Ranking: #8 The Bo Portability:  Low Single-Strike Effectiveness:  High Track Record:  Exceptional Few weapons are as universally recognized as the bo staff. Appearing in Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Filipino, European, and African martial traditions, the bo may be one of the oldest weapons on Earth. Its simplicity is its genius: leverage, reach, and power. A skilled practitioner can generate devastating blunt-force trauma capable of breaking bones, crushing joints, or delivering fatal head strikes all without a blade. However, portability works against it. At four to six feet long, the bo is impossible to conceal and impractical outside of open environments. Despite its legendary history and battlefield effectiveness, its size limits its real-world deployment. Verdict:  A foundational weapon of martial arts powerful, but not discreet. Ranking: #7 The Nunchaku Portability:  Moderate Single-Strike Effectiveness:  Moderate to High Track Record:  Limited Popularized worldwide in the 1970s by Bruce Lee, the nunchaku origin has been argued as Okinawan, Chinese and even Filipino, despite this, there is no argument that the weapon, is flexible and it's design allows for incredible speed, angular attacks, and rapid transitions between offense and defense. At high levels, nunchaku strikes can cause concussive trauma, bone fractures, and joint damage. But that power comes with a steep learning curve. In untrained hands, the weapon is as dangerous to the user as the opponent. Historically, its combat record is limited compared to other weapons on this list. While flashy and versatile, it lacks widespread battlefield validation. Verdict:  Athough devastating in expert hands the nunchaku is problematic and due to it being illegal in many area countries it's ability to be carried lawfully creates issues. Ranking: #6 The Katana (Straight Sword) Portability:  Low Single-Strike Effectiveness:  Extreme Track Record:  Iconic The katana represents the pinnacle of bladed craftsmanship and martial discipline. Designed for decisive, lethal cuts, it is capable of ending combat in a single motion. Historically, it was a weapon of war and status deadly in trained hands, but requiring years of dedication. Its size and visibility limit portability, but its cutting efficiency is unquestioned. Verdict:  A masterpiece of martial lethality powerful, but specialized. Ranking: #5 The Chinese Butterfly Sword Portability:  High Single-Strike Effectiveness:  High Track Record:  Strong Not to be confused with the Filipino balisong, Chinese butterfly knives are wide-bladed, heavy knives traditionally used in Southern Chinese martial arts like Wing Chun. Their design mirrors empty-hand techniques, allowing practitioners to translate blocking, trapping, and striking directly into blade work. Their real strength lies in speed and familiarity. Because movements closely resemble empty-hand combat, the learning curve is shorter, and deployment is instinctive. While the blade length is modest, the cutting power is significant. In skilled hands, these knives are surgical, fast, and relentless. Verdict:  A natural extension of empty-hand combat fast, lethal, and efficient. Ranking: #4 The Tonfa Portability:  Moderate Single-Strike Effectiveness:   High Track Record:  Exceptional The tonfa bridges ancient martial arts and modern law enforcement. Originally an Okinawan farming tool, it evolved into the police baton due to its ability to control, strike, block, and restrain. Its handle allows rotational strikes that amplify power while maintaining close-range control. Unlike bladed weapons, the tonfa can disable without killing — yet remains fully capable of delivering devastating blows. Its continued adoption by law enforcement worldwide is the strongest endorsement of its effectiveness. Verdict:  Practical, versatile, and time-tested. Ranking: #3 The Kama Portability:  High Single-Strike Effectiveness:  Very High Track Record:  Strong Originally a farming implement, the kama evolved into one of Okinawan martial arts’ most feared weapons. Its curved blade excels at slashing, hooking, and tearing, making it brutally efficient at close range. The kama’s biggest advantage is accessibility. It requires less training than many traditional weapons to be dangerous, deploys quickly, and delivers lethal results with minimal effort. A single successful strike can sever tendons, arteries, or muscle groups. Its design has appeared across cultures in various sickles and curved blades proof that it works. Verdict:  Compact, fast, and viciously effective. Ranking: #2 The Filipino Escrima Stick Portability:  High Single-Strike Effectiveness:  High Track Record:  Legendary Often underestimated because it lacks a blade, the escrima stick may be one of the most battle-proven weapons in history. Made from dense rattan, it can shatter bones, crush hands, and deliver fatal head strikes even against bladed weapons. Its effectiveness is undeniable. Escrima techniques are designed around real combat, not sport. The weapon’s simplicity allows for rapid mastery, and its adaptability makes it viable in virtually any environment. Historically, the escrima stick has proven lethal — famously used to defeat armored invaders in close combat. Verdict:  Simple, indestructible, and brutally effective. #1 — The Fixed Blade Knife Portability:  Exceptional Single-Strike Effectiveness:  Extreme Track Record:  Universal No weapon on this list is as accessible, concealable, and immediately dangerous as a knife whether a fixed blade or a simple pocket knife.Across cultures and centuries, knives have been the weapon of choice for warriors, soldiers, and civilians alike. While they exist in countless variations of size and style, all share the same elemental design: a blade and a handle nothing more, nothing wasted. Unlike complex weapons that demand years of training, a knife requires minimal instruction to be lethal. One decisive strike can sever arteries, puncture vital organs, or end a confrontation in seconds. In close quarters, there is no equal. Its simplicity is not a limitation — it is the source of its dominance. Verdict:  Small, fast, and terrifyingly effective. Ranking: #1 Final Thought The “ultimate weapon” list isn’t just about tradition or fear factor. It’s about what works most reliably, with the least effort, in the most situations. Depending on how heavily you weigh portability versus raw destructive power, the answer may surprise you and that’s exactly what makes this debate timeless.

The December 1996 cover featured Chuck Norris donning his iconic all-black gi. Developed from his military training in Korea, Norris’ Universal Fighting System fused karate, jujutsu, and tang soo do into a practical, no-nonsense approach to self-defense—one that continues to impact thousands of practitioners today. Inside the cover story, Chuck walks readers through elements of the art form, demonstrating real-world applications alongside his students. You can read more about this in the full digital magazine by going to the e-magazine section, searching 1990s, and clicking on the cover.