Kyokushin Needs a Doctor
“I am surrounded by ruffians, hoodlums, thugs. Crazy muscle I have a lot of. Kyokushin does not have a doctor. Go become a doctor and make me proud.”
Sosai Mas Oyama– 1979
Sosai Masutatsu Oyama — Founder of Kyokushin


I never aspired to be a teacher. I always wanted to remain a student — learning, refining, and growing. I never expected to lead a dojo, much less an organization.
But now, after outlasting Sosai, Soshu, Shihans, Senseis, Kohais, and fellow Otagai-nis, I am still here: healthy, fit, and carrying a perspective of Kyokushin that no one before me had — the perspective of a doctor.
I have spent more than 40 years in knockdown, full-contact karate. At 67 years old, I remain healthy, limber, and fit. I still train with the same energy and joy that I did four decades ago.
Meanwhile, many of my seniors and peers have either passed away or can no longer demonstrate the techniques they once mastered. Even juniors 15 years younger than me have retired or “hung things up.”
There were countless karateka who were more talented, faster, and more powerful than I ever was. But time has taken its toll on them. I have not only outlasted them — I have remained consistent, strong, and capable.
Shihan Fujiwara, who is my age, once had greater power than I did. Today, his hips and knees are stiff and he cannot kick as he used to. Yet I can. He summed this up in one sentence:
“Being healthy is the greatest of all skills.”
Even world-class NFL and NBA athletes — men who once outshone me in strength and speed — have grown weaker, slower, and broken. I did not surpass them.
They got worse.
How My Philosophy Differs
Sosai’s words to me in 1979 continue to echo in my mind. Did he sense that Kyokushin was missing something vital? How did he see the future? I will never know. But I do know this: I have lived differently, trained differently, and aged differently than my seniors.
Here is how:

True strength does not come from grinding yourself into injury. My seniors pushed themselves at 110% of their maximum ability. They broke knuckles, ruined backs, knees, damaged their joints and even their brains. I chose another path. I trained at 80% of my maximum — protecting my body while steadily raising my “maximum.” When your maximum rises, even 80% of that maximum is far greater than 110% of a broken body.
Strength Comes from Health

Power is not just muscle. It is mass multiplied by acceleration. Most fighters focus only on muscle and mass. But a lighter, limber fighter with a greater range of motion can generate far greater force. This is how I, at 155 pounds, often overcame opponents who outweighed me by 25 pounds or more.
Speed Comes from Effort

Skill is not a flash of talent — it is the refinement that comes only with decades of repetition. But without health, experience becomes irrelevant, because the body can no longer perform.
Technique Comes from Experience

From Sosai and the great masters, I inherited timeless wisdom: the importance of spirit, humility, and perseverance.
Serenity Comes from Old Knowledge

I took the techniques and traditions handed down to me and filtered them through a medical and scientific mind. The old way was effort, grit, and forcing the body through pain. My way is effortless power. By identifying and fixing what restricts a joint or muscle, I restore natural movement. Then I train that movement until it flows with speed, power, and grace — without struggle.
Progress Comes from New Knowledge
OSU!
The Cost of Ignoring Health
The reality is sobering: 23 of the greatest Kyokushin fighters died prematurely from ill health. Even Sosai himself died too young, from lung cancer.
Kyokushin cannot ignore health and longevity any longer. Strength without health is fleeting.

My Mission
I never set out to lead, but time has placed me here. My mission is to carry Sosai’s legacy forward by restoring balance to Kyokushin:



This is how Kyokushin evolves. This is how we honor Sosai.
Kyokushin needs a doctor. And I have answered that call.
OSU!
