I recently spoke with Sensei Danny McCoy at his home in Alberta.

Although Sensei Danny now calls Spruce Grove Alberta home, he grew up in Wawa, Ontario.

In the early '70s, Sensei Danny was heavily into fitness and in particular, running. At nineteen, he found himself looking for a new activity to help stay in shape and considered one of the two martial arts available in Wawa. It was to be either Tae Kwon Do or Wado Kai karate. Lucky for everyone, he chose Wado Kai and began his long association with karate at Sensei Don Gerard's dojo.

A recent hi-light for Sensei Danny was having the opportunity to participate in the Team competition at the Western Canadian Championships in Stoney Plains Alberta.

Sensei Danny is currently on a membership campaign aimed at encouraging baby boomers of all ages (35 and up) to take up the martial arts, particularly Wado Kai karate. Sensei Danny emphasizes his belief that it is never too late to start karate. He also believes that Wado Kai karate is an activity that can be sustained and even developed well into old age.

Sensei Danny views the future of the Shintani Wado Kai Karate Federation with optimism. He feels that there are many great opportunities open to our organization and that our recent drive towards standardization and unification will provide the stability we need to grow.

I asked Sensei Rick Leveille to write a few words about Sensei Danny, and this is what he had to say:

During a recent conversation with Sensei Peter Leitch, I was asked to write a short story about Sensei Danny McCoy in regards to his Karate experience. It seems that he is reluctant to talk about himself, other than the usual information that we all know. This doesn't surprise me. Danny has always been that way, as long as I've known him. I hope you don't mind my taking the liberty, Sensei Danny.

In the second year of our Karate training, Sensei Danny and I, along with a group of other students from Wawa, had the opportunity to attend a summer Karate camp in Kapuskasing, Ontario. We were all quite young, most of us in our early twenties. Danny and I were blue belts at the time, eager to prove ourselves, ready to take on the world. On one particular day, we had just finished our morning run, when we were informed that we were going to do something a little different. We were taken to a gravel pit close to the camp, and told to form teams. One team was to go to the top of a big sand hill, and the other team was to wait at the bottom for instructions. Our team was told to run up to the top of the hill, and throw the other team members off the hill. So, off we ran, charging up the hill like a bunch of mad men, fully intent on showing those guys how tough we were. Before I go any further, you should know that our team out-numbered the other team two to one, but the guys on top of the hill were the biggest, strongest, meanest looking of the whole bunch. Sensei Danny was one of those guys up there.

When our team finally reached the top of the hill, we attacked our opponents with a vengeance. There were gi's torn, sand flying everywhere and people getting thrown half way down the hill, but most of those people were from our team. We must have fought for a good half-hour to take that hill, and not once did I see Sensei Danny lose control. We even tried to gang up on one individual, sometimes two or three on one, but still we couldn't defeat them. I'll never forget the feeling of being grabbed by the collar and the seat of the pants by Sensei Danny and being thrown. When the dust finally settled, Sensei Danny walked down the hill, looked at me with that grin of his, and we started to laugh. It was the most fun we had all weekend.

I've read the words of an old master that said that when one faces an opponent, look at them as you would look at a distant mountain. When I look at that mountain, I see Sensei Danny up there with that big grin, challenging me to attack.

Best regards Sensei Danny,
Sensei Rick Leveille