My fascination of the martial arts started when I was about 10 years old. In 1966, a TV show called "The Green Hornet" aired on channel 7. Back in those days we only had 7 channels to pick from and nothing worth watching was on channel 13 , so I guess we only had 6 channels. Our family made due with one TV set and, for all you kids reading this, there was no remote control at the time. Which reminds me of an old "Married with Children " skit, where Budd and Kelly were sitting on the couch trying to turn the TV on with the remote control. It wasn't working, so they sat there trying and trying to turn the TV on ...finally Budd said to Kelly "Dad once told me that you could actually turn the TV on if you got up and went to the TV and pushed the button. Needless to say Kelly argued with him, called him stupid, and said it wouldn't work. When Budd pushed the button and the TV went on, a sarcastic smile came over his face and Kelly sat there with this bewildered look on her face. I guess you would have to see the show to get the full effect. Getting back to the story, I became fascinated with one of the main characters. The character's TV name was Kato but we all know him as Bruce Lee, who became a great martial artist and silver screen icon. Kato was "the man", no one was able to touch this guy. The show was great, I couldn't get enough of this action but to my chagrin in 1967 they cancelled the show. How could they do this to me!!! This was my favorite show, I was 10 and couldn't understand. I became obsessed with finding out about this so called "karate." But being a ten year old and growing up in a baseball family, the sport of baseball took up the void left by the Green Hornet. This lasted until 1972 when I got bitten by the martial arts bug again. Finally, another show about martial arts was aired and it became my favorite show. It was called "Kung Fu" starring David Carradine. This guy didn't have the flash of Kato but he kicked butt in a more gentle way, that was cool too!!! I had to learn this stuff, the passion was back. I had my father enroll me in Frank Ryan's School of Self Defense on Gun Hill Road in the Bronx. Most of the time, since there was only one car in the family, I had to hop on the #16 bus to get to class but that was a small price to pay to learn how to be a Kung Fu "fighting machine." The first time I walked into his school I should of known something was up but I was too naive at the time. Frank Ryan's school was the only school close to where I lived, so the formal training began. When I walked into the school for the first time I thought I was walking into the Shaolin Temple. The school had a fragrance I was unfamiliar with, a hint of incense was in the air. A beaded curtain separated the training floor with the outside world. Emerging from the back, in this finely pressed white gi, was the man who would teach me all the secrets of the martial arts, a man who knew how to rip a man's heart out with his bare hands, a man who possessed all the knowledge that I was seeking, Master Frank Ryan. Lets see, .......how do I describe Frank Ryan. He had an Elvis Presley 50's hair do and long mutton chop sideburns, a finely trimmed goatee that I remembered seeing somewhere? That's when I realized he looked like the pictures of the devil I saw while attending St. Barnabas Church on a Sunday mornings. He reached out to shake my 16 year old hand with a big hello smile and I noticed that he had a ring on every finger, hmm.... I thought that was a little odd, (maybe he likes jewelery ?). He led me past the beaded curtain to the main part of the school to get my uniform and patches. He opened a closet and picked out a uniform for me, it was like I was receiving my first Holy Communion. I thought this uniform would bring me the martial art power ; I sought to be indestructible. He then showed me where to change. The dressing room was small, about the size of a "old telephone booth". I didn't care, I was in the inner sanctuary. Besides, in the old Superman comics Clark Kent dressed in a telephone booth. When I put that uniform on, I felt just like Superman. I was in such awe of this man that would reveal the secrets to me that I really didn't notice the actual size of the training area. I emerged from this closet to find that the school, wasn't much bigger than my room at home maybe 15 feet x10 feet. Where was everyone else going to fit , I thought?.... After a few minutes a couple of other students arrived. One guy whose name was Gary, a bearded, hippy looking guy, wearing a bandanna, a left over from the 60's. A kid named Eddie Goodwin, a small, thin black kid wearing a black gi and brown belt and a few other students. Before I got my bearings Master Frank Ryan called the class to attention. We all lined up by rank against the back wall, the white belts were first in line. I awkwardly got in line but I was missing one piece of vital equipment....my cup. Master Frank Ryan walked towards me, but I noticed something was a little different. That the smile he greeted me with previously, not more than fifteen minutes ago, had left his face. He was now resembling the picture of the devil that is hanging on the wall of St. Barnabas Church. The next thing I knew...BAM, I didn't see it coming........I was on the floor grabbing my groin after being struck, in the most sensitive part of a man's body by this 230 pound karate master. I guess he taught me my first lesson in self defense, never let a man who looks like Satan, that close to you. After going down the line to other students who, by the way, were wearing their cups, I composed myself, somewhat, for the rest of the class. Recovering from the shot to my lower extremity, we started the exercises. At the time I thought I was in pretty good shape , boy was I wrong. In 1972 there was no such thing as cushy Swain Mats. We must of done 100 forward and 100 backward karate push-ups...... on our knuckles. Then came the regular push-ups,...... with one special twist. I guess Master Frank Ryan got a little tired watching us do about 200 push ups so he sat down......on my back. I struggled to lift my body plus about 230 pounds of his dead weight, off the hard tiled floor. As I fell to the ground exhausted and out of breath, I laid there wondering whether or not I was going to die during my first karate lesson. Wouldn't that suck!! Here I am a 16 year old kid, weighing about a buck twenty with a grown man on my back doing push-ups. Oh, I forgot to tell you that it was summer time and it was about 90 degrees outside and I can't even begin to tell you the temperature inside with all those sweaty students. After the push-ups came the punches from horse stance. One of the brown belts, Eddie Goodwin, had this real freaky flexible body so he could get real low and do his punches. So Master Ryan expected everyone to get that low. After 100 punches my thighs were burning. Then came the real torture. He had a partner climb up on your thighs from the rear and stand on your thighs, and I have to tell you , some of those students weren't exactly light weights. The pain was excruciating. I think Vince Lombardi said something like " What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." I was just praying to survive this hour. Next came the kicking drills, 500-1000 wheel kicks were not unusual. Finally the class was winding down. After all the exercises, punches, kicks, came the sparring. I became fresh meat for the brown belts and they proceeded to give me my second lesson of the day: if you don't know what you are doing with your hands and legs you should not spar. I think they had mercy on me that day since it was my first day and I was able to limp down to the bus for the ride home. When I got home my father asked me "how was class?" I barely had enough energy to tell him "Yeah Dad...it was great." I didn't want him to know that I got my butt kicked the first day and had a lot to learn. My next step was to get some information about how these guys kicked my butt so I asked my mother to bring me to the book store in Cross County. When I entered the store I immediately went to the sports section and picked up Bruce Tegner Book of Self Defense, a paperback book with 223 pages of martial arts mayhem. I was sure that this book was going to help me from getting my butt kicked. I went home and devoured the material. Next time, I thought, "I will be prepared for class." This was the start of my martial arts journey and I became hooked on this mystical art of combat. So far it has lasted 42 years........the story continues..........