USA Kyokushin Karate –
Lineage & Legacy
Table Of Contents
Carrying Sosai’s Wisdom Beyond the Dojo
My Lineage with Sosai Masutatsu Oyama
My connection with Sosai Masutatsu Oyama, the founder of Kyokushin, began in 1965 when, as a young boy in Japan, I saw him on Nippon TV lead his students in demolishing a building with nothing but fists, feet, and heads. That moment sparked my lifelong fascination with him and Kyokushin.
Meeting Sosai
Ten years later, in 1975, I met Sosai at the Hotel Okura in Tokyo. When he learned I lived in London, he told me to train with Sensei Steve Arneil—who, to my surprise, already knew my name because Sosai had spoken of me. In 1979, Hanshi Arneil arranged for me to live as an uchi deshi at the Ikebukuro Honbu Dojo.
Training At Ikebukuro
Life there was grueling—training all day, cleaning, sleeping on mats—but I earned respect for my toughness, my Japanese fluency, and because I could treat fellow students to small luxuries. Our daily instructor was Sensei Yuzo Goda, but when Sosai entered, training instantly transformed; few alive today can say they trained directly under him.
Busted!
That summer, I told Sensei Goda I wanted to give up college and stay as a full-time *uchi deshi*. Soon after, Sosai summoned me. In front of the black belts, he asked about my goals. When I said I wanted to dedicate my life to karate, he pressed me:
“Are you in medical school?”
Kyokushin Needs Doctors
When I admitted I was, he grew serious and pointed at the fighters around us:
“You see him? A ruffian. That one? A hooligan. That one? A gangster. Around me are many fighters—but I have no doctors. Kyokushin needs doctors. Finish medical school, become a doctor, and make me proud.”
Years later I discovered my father, through his friend Mr. Eisaku Satō (then Chairman of Kyokushinkaikan), had urged Sosai to keep me on the path of medicine.
I saw Sosai again in 1984, though illness had begun to weigh on him. By the late 1980s he became reclusive, and in 1994 he passed away from lung cancer.
I remain deeply grateful to have trained under him, to have felt his presence, and to have carried his charge—that Kyokushin needs doctors—into my life’s work.
My Lineage with Hanshi Steve Arneil
My relationship with Hanshi Steve Arneil was pivotal in my USA Kyokushin Karate journey. Most of what I know about Sosai Mas Oyama’s training methods came directly from Hanshi Arneil’s personal experiences. He was the first British karateka to live in Japan and train full-time under Sosai, and his path was anything but easy. Hanshi Arneil failed his first two black belt tests and was deeply discouraged, believing he was not good enough in sparring. Yet through perseverance and unshakable determination, he finally earned his black belt and went on to become the first man to complete the legendary 100-man kumite.
Hanshi Arneil was the teacher who initiated me into Kyokushin. While I was in boarding school in London, I could only train on weekends, but he was always supportive and encouraging. Unlike the Honbu Dojo in Japan — where Sosai’s focus was on relentless sparring — Hanshi Arneil placed tremendous emphasis on kata and bunkai (the practical applications of kata movements), showing me how every movement could be used effectively in combat.
In 1979, it was Hanshi Arneil who arranged for me to live and train at Sosai’s Honbu Dojo in Ikebukuro as a temporary uchi deshi. After that summer, Sosai himself called Hanshi Arneil and said:
“You’ve got to take this kid back. There is too much heat on me.”
Years later, after I had moved to the United States, I lost touch with Hanshi Arneil for a time. During those years, he founded the International Federation of Karate (IFK), which grew to become the largest and most cohesive Kyokushin organization in the world — an extraordinary irony, considering the many splits that fractured Sosai’s original Kyokushin organization.
In 2018, Hanshi Arneil sent me a personally autographed copy of the third edition of his renowned book, Kyokushin Kata. To this day, I treasure it as a keepsake of our time together. The photos of the young Hanshi Arneil, just as I remember him during my training in London, bring back powerful memories. His words still echo in my mind:
“Make it your own. Kata is how you spar with yourself.”
Hanshi Arneil’s dedication to kata, discipline, and personal growth shaped my practice deeply, and his guidance remains a cornerstone of my own teaching philosophy at USA Kyokushin Honbu.
West 4th Street, between 6th and 7th Ave, NY, NY USA
The West 4th Street Dojo — An eternal "home in my heart”
The West 4th Street dojo in Manhattan was more than bricks and mats — it was the beating heart of Kyokushin in America. Under Soshu Shigeru Oyama, generations of fighters were forged there in sweat, spirit, and unbreakable will. Though the doors have long since closed, the dojo lives on as a shrine in our memory, binding all who trained there in the 1970s and 1980s with an eternal brotherhood of Kyokushin.
Soshu Shigeru Oyama was the purest and most devastatingly powerful fighter I have ever known. He rarely spoke, but when he did the dojo listened — and when he moved, his kicks and punches landed with a lethal grace that left no question about his authority. Not far behind him in skill and presence was his son, Tetsumori (Teddy) Oyama.
His Manhattan classes were short, surgical, and ferocious — one hour of focused work, followed by a senior class, then sparring. Because time was tight, every session had a single technical focus, but the ending was always full contact. My belt testing experience there is seared into me: after two brutal hours and fifteen three-minute rounds I blacked out standing in the ring — only to come to with Soshu himself holding my sleeve and calling the test to an end. I survived. I did not go down.
I choose to remember Soshu as he was in his prime: quiet, scorching in presence, and utterly real. When he stood behind you, even in silence, you felt his heat.
My Lineage with Soshu Shigeru Oyama
Soshu was quiet but explosive — when he moved, you knew you were in the presence of the true power of Kyokushin.
When Sosai wanted to show the world Kyokushin’s physical truth, he sent Soshu. Soshu was the one who carried Kyokushin around the globe — demonstrating its power, teaching relentlessly, and seeding dojos. In New York he built a family of affiliated schools across Connecticut, New Jersey and beyond, often helping his senior students financially to open their own dojos. I trained in his Manhattan classes on weekends and felt that same generosity and vision every time.
Drifting Apart
The later years were complicated. Around the early and late 1990s the organization around Oyama karate shifted; new uniforms and katas appeared, and what had felt like a single Kyokushin identity began to fragment. I found my own path back to the traditional Kyokushin practice, and those changes marked a turning point for many of us.
Abandoned
My last real encounter with Soshu came after 9/11. I arrived at his Manhattan dojo and found him diminished by age and circumstance. The once-crowded dojo was empty — many of the students who had once filled it had drifted away. He had been left with an emptiness no one should have had to bear.
SHIHAN KENJI FUJIWARA
My Lineage with Shihan Kenji Fujiwara
Among the most dominant instructors in Soshu Shigeru Oyama’s Manhattan dojo was Sensei Kenji Fujiwara. His presence was so commanding that even Soshu would sometimes step aside and let him lead. My first sparring session with him was humbling beyond words — I was completely outclassed, yet inspired to rise to his level.
Unique Pedigree
Shihan Fujiwara had a rare history: he served as an uchi deshi under both Sosai Mas Oyama and Soshu Shigeru Oyama, living and training with each for years. Few in Kyokushin can claim such a lineage. When I began training with him in Bethel, Connecticut, it marked the start of one of the most intense and formative phases of my life.
Forged In The Fire
Training under him was brutal, unforgiving, and transformative. Summers were sweltering with windows shut, winters icy with windows open — “If you want to stay warm, punch harder.” Water breaks didn’t exist. His classes demanded total spirit. But beyond technique, he introduced me to deeper philosophy. Through the book Musashi by Eiji Yoshikawa, we explored lessons on life, death, patience, and victory. Those discussions shaped me as much as the sparring.
In Shihan Fujiwara’s dojo, legends passed through — but it was the daily battles, broken walls, and relentless training that forged us into fighters.
The Crucible of Bethel, CT
Fujiwara-sensei’s dojo was a crucible. Legends like Willie Williams and Andy Hug passed through, but for us, it was daily battles, holes in walls from hard sparring, and tournaments where his quiet advice made the difference. He pushed me so relentlessly that, in time, fighting others seemed almost easy.
He Told Me In 1987–
"No Kids Class. I Don't Like Kids"
Thirty years after those early days, I returned to visit his dojo. I was astonished to see children’s headgear and large, accessible classes — a far cry from the old hardcore Bethel days. Shihan Fujiwara had adapted, evolved, and built a thriving community.
A Bond Beyond the Dojo
Our friendship went far beyond training halls. From sharing dinners with his wife Keiko to quiet conversations overlooking San Francisco Bay, Shihan Fujiwara remained not just my teacher, but my companion through life’s journeys.
That is the spirit of Kyokushin — strength of mind that endures when everything else fades. As Shihan himself often reminded me:
“Even if they know what’s coming, if they cannot stop it — you win.”
Relaxing With His Wife Keiko in Los Gatos, CA
Our bond extended beyond the dojo. When I moved to California, he even lived and trained with me for a time, and together we laid the foundation of a new Kyokushin presence there. Later, he returned east, founding Mushin Karate and eventually joining Kyokushin Kenbukai, where he rose to senior leadership.
In 2016, when asked to describe me after decades of hard battles together, he simply said
Good punch, not the best.
Good kicks, not the best.
He has the strongest mind I have ever known.
OSU!!
