THE SPIRIT OF THE KATA

 by Phillip Starr

I believe that it was in the mid to late 1970's that I witnessed what was probably the finest performance of kata that I have ever seen. It occurred at a tournament that was sanctioned by the old USKA (United States Karate Association) and was performed by an American. The young man who demonstrated this kata was Randy Holman, the adopted son of Mr. Phil Koeppel of Peoria, IL. Mr. Koeppel passed away some years ago and was one of the finest karate teachers in the country.

I was sitting on the panel of judges for the Black Belt Kata Division. We had already judged several kata, all of which were done very well but when Holman's name was called, the entire gym went suddenly quiet. I mean DEAD quiet. Those of you who have attended tournaments know how noisy and confusing they can be, right? They're about as calm and quiet as the bombing of Dresden in 1945.

Unlike many competitors who sat at ringside in a rather slovenly manner, Holman had been seated in a cross-legged position with his back straight and no expression whatsoever on his face. He never moved while the other competitors performed their kata. When his name was called it was as if a tiger had come to its feet. There was a spirit to him that commanded respect and the room fell silent. The “bombing” came to a sudden halt!

He walked calmly up before the panel. He did not scowl at the judges or shout his name as many competitors do nowadays. He spoke quietly, respectfully, and firmly. He would perform Seiunchin (a kata from the Gojy-ryu style). He backed up, bowed, and prepared himself. I swear, you could almost SEE his assailants beginning to surround him!

And then it began. Every movement was perfectly measured and masterfully executed. Clearly, he could SEE his opponents...but the strange thing was, I COULD SEE THEM, TOO!! At about the halfway mark, I realized that I was unconsciously tensing and relaxing my body in synch with his! My breath matched his breath... I had been DRAWN INTO HIS KATA!

I saw what he saw, felt what he felt. And when he had completed his performance, I was sweating! Honestly! He didn't kiai with every movement, didn't over-dramatize his kata, didn't strike any theatrical poses...he simply performed the kata the way it was intended to be done. And it was perfect.

Perfect.

When the scorekeeper called for our scores, I gave him a 9.5 (in those days, kata was judged by full and half points only and one could NOT give a 10; it simply wasn't done). Mine was the highest score. The other judges, all well-known and highly-respected karate teachers from around the U.S. , looked over at me and raised their eyebrows. “That kata cannot be done any better than that by any living human,” I said. A couple of them nodded their agreement.

I asked Holman to step forward and he did so. “Mr. Holman,” I said in my most commanding voice, “If I EVER see you perform a kata like that again... (I could see he was holding his breath, wondering what he'd done wrong)... “I will award you a score of 10.” He smiled broadly and thanked me very quietly.

A few weeks later at another fine USKA tournament, I kept my promise.

I do not know whatever became of Randy Holman. A few years later, he disappeared from the martial arts scene and I have never heard of him since. But I have always remembered the day that I was literally drawn into another person's kata and physically felt its spirit. It is something for which we all should strive.