THE QUIET FIGHTER: The Untold Story of Mal Reid
By Fiona Doherty – Senior Writer, The Fighting Edge
Some fighters chase fame. Others chase freedom. Malcolm “Mal” Reid never chased either — yet somehow, he found both in his own way. From the backstreets of Manchester to the dusty gyms of Europe, Mal’s path has always been carved quietly, away from the noise — and it’s precisely that quiet that makes him worth listening to.
From Moss Side to the Moors
Born in 1958 to a Caribbean parents, Mal grew up in Manchester’s Moss Side, a vibrant but volatile neighbourhood. As tensions flared in the mid-60s, Mal’s mother, fearing for her children’s safety, moved them to Edenfield — a small Lancashire town known more for sheep than for shin kicks. She disappeared shortly after, leaving Mal and his younger sister Anita in the care of their aunt.
Mal was seven. Alone, angry, and searching for something.
He found it in 1968 — on a damp wooden floor in a church hall — where he first trained under Sensei John, a man known as much for his silence as his strikes. That encounter would be the start of everything.
Meeting the Master
In 1975, during a rare visit back to Manchester for a martial arts expo, Mal encountered a man who would change his understanding of fighting forever — Master Dee. A visiting Thai instructor with roots in Muay Boran and early Muay Thai, Master Dee was unlike anyone Mal had seen before: calm, fluid, and ferocious. They sparred briefly in a back room above a Chinatown café. Mal didn’t win — but he didn’t forget.
That encounter lit a new fire. Though Mal remained loyal to his traditional karate roots, he quietly began absorbing elements of Thai boxing — balance, low kicks, knees — weaving them into his style with the grace of someone who understood both control and violence.
The Making of a Fighter
Mal never joined the big-name organisations. He didn’t like the politics, and they didn’t know what to make of him. He trained in small rooms, taught in community centres, and fought where he was welcome — from Salford warehouses to Dublin rec halls. No glamour. No excuses.
He entered underground full contact circuits across the UK and Ireland during the early ’80s, and while his name never appeared on glossy posters, he earned a reputation among those who mattered. Hard-hitting. Soft-spoken. Unshakable.
As his reputation grew, so did his mission: to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. That began, as always, with Anita.
Family and Fire
In 1974, Anita — then just eleven — was caught up in a racial attack outside a record store in Manchester. Mal was sixteen, and though he fought off the attackers, something in him changed. He never brought her into the city again. Instead, he trained harder, and Anita began building the dream that would become The Fighting Edge magazine.
They became a team: she wrote and photographed, he fought and coached. Both committed to making martial arts safer, smarter, and more accessible for the next generation.
Teaching Without Ego
By the late 1980s, Mal’s style had evolved into something entirely his own — a hybrid of karate base, Thai rhythm, and street-wise adaptability. But he didn’t brand it or trademark it. Instead, he taught it quietly to kids who needed it most — boys with records, girls with bruises, immigrants with no voice.
Those who trained under Mal remember one thing: he never shouted. He didn’t have to. His presence spoke louder than words, and his technique told its own story.
Legacy in Motion
Now, in 1990, Mal Reid stands at a crossroads — not of fame or retirement, but of expansion. In recent years, he has supported exchange trips to Thailand, helped mentor young Irish fighters, and remains the backbone of our magazine’s martial arts integrity. He refuses interviews. He shrugs off praise. He still runs alone most mornings in the misty hills above Edenfield.
But ask anyone who’s met him in the ring — or been saved by his belief in them — and they’ll tell you:
Mal Reid doesn’t need to speak loudly. His life is the loudest thing about him.
Fiona Doherty is a founding writer and photographer for The Fighting Edge magazine. She first met Mal in 1984 and has been trying to catch up with him ever since.
THE QUIET FIGHTER
The Untold Story of Sensei John O’Connor
By Anita Reid – Editor, The Fighting Edge Magazine
In every martial artist’s journey, there’s one figure who changes everything — not through flashy moves or slogans, but with quiet discipline and a presence that lingers. For me, that person was Sensei John O’Connor. I was eleven when I met him in 1968, one of his very first students. I didn’t realise it then, but I had stepped into the life orbit of a man whose soul had been tempered in war and silence — and whose teachings would shape mine forever.
From Belfast to the Burning Jungle
Born in 1926 into a Catholic family in Belfast, John grew up in a divided city where toughness and silence were survival tools. But even as a boy, he wasn’t content with the world laid out for him — not the sectarian boundaries, not the predictable factory life.
At eighteen, with World War II still raging, John made a move that would change everything: he joined the French Foreign Legion. For many, that might seem strange — why not the British Army? But John was never one for convention. The Legion offered anonymity, discipline, and an escape from inherited conflict.
He was deployed to French Indochina, where he served during the brutal First Indochina War. The jungle, the heat, the unforgiving nature of guerilla warfare — it was here that John first encountered the raw, survival-oriented combat systems of Southeast Asia.
This is where the roots of his martial arts took hold. Not sport karate. Not what you’d find in a tournament. What John brought back with him — what he lived — was Tomari-te, a rare Okinawan lineage with deep Chinese influence, and Silat, the lightning-fast, deceptive close-quarter art from the Malay world.
He didn’t learn them in dojos. He learned them in alleys, in military camps, in moments where hesitation could kill. These weren’t arts for points. They were arts for life.
The Teacher on the Hill
After leaving the Legion, John eventually settled in Edenfield, a small moorland village in the north of England. The world moved on, but John didn’t chase trends. By the late 1960s, he began teaching — not commercially, not loudly, but in a repurposed barn on the edge of the hills. No posters. No signs. Just movement.
That’s where my brother Mal and I found him, after a racially motivated attack in Manchester sent us reeling. I was eleven. Mal was seventeen. We needed grounding. We needed something real.
John didn’t give speeches. He gave you a stance, a target, a test. And then he watched to see what you’d do with it.
He taught us Tomari-te, stripped of ceremony but filled with quiet structure. He taught us Silat, but not the fancy flourishes — just the directness, the flow, the traps. He never called himself a master. He never wore rank. But if you stayed, if you listened, he would pass on everything.
No Style, No Hype
By the 1970s, whispers began to circulate about the “Irish man in the hills” who could knock you sideways with a twitch of the hips. Some came to train. Most couldn’t keep up. He didn’t care about belt colours or tournaments. He wouldn’t join national bodies. He rejected politics — and attention.
In a world chasing badges and affiliations, John O’Connor was unbranded truth. His movements were clean, fast, and devastating. His teaching was sparse, but unforgettable. He told you once. If you forgot, that was your problem.
He didn’t advertise, but by 1990, his influence had reached far. Some of his students — including Mal — had gone on to fight and teach. Others, like me, found our paths not on mats but in writing, in preserving the history of the hidden and the humble.
Legacy Without Applause
Now in his sixties, John still teaches a select few. The mats are still cold. The sessions still start in silence. He doesn’t hand out praise or pretend to be wise. He just shows up. And if you’re serious, you stay.
Some people build legacies through media, medals, or mass dojos. John built his through discipline, humility, and truth — the old way.
He once said to me, “Styles fade. Motion stays.”
I’ve spent decades trying to understand what he meant. I think I’m starting to.
—
Anita Reid is the founding editor of The Fighting Edge Magazine, a lifelong martial artist, and one of the first students of Sensei John O’Connor. She began training with him in 1968 and has been telling the untold stories of martial artists ever since.
🥋 Across the Water: Dan Connolly Brings Karate to the Emerald Isle
By Anita Reid – Senior Editor, The Fighting Edge
Originally published: November 1983
When you think of martial arts hotspots, the small port town of Drogheda in Ireland may not be the first name that springs to mind—but that may be about to change.
Dan Connolly, a well-known name among the UK’s traditional karate circles in the 1970s, has crossed the Irish Sea with a mission: to bring high-level martial arts training back to the birthplace of his grandparents. After a brief but promising stint running a club in Dundalk in 1980, Connolly has now planted more permanent roots in nearby Drogheda, County Louth, opening a brand new dojo earlier this autumn.
“I wanted to do something that honoured both my lineage and the art that shaped my life,” Connolly told The Fighting Edge during our recent visit to his new club tucked discreetly between a boxing gym and a youth hall near the River Boyne. “Drogheda was always part of my story, even if I was raised in England. It just took time for the path to bring me home.”
Those who’ve followed Connolly’s journey over the years will know his martial foundations trace back to none other than the enigmatic Sensei John O’Connor, the Belfast-born veteran of the French Foreign Legion whose influence on European martial arts has only recently begun receiving its due credit. Connolly was one of O’Connor’s many “rough-cut diamonds,” shaped in silence, tested in sweat, and polished through years of competition and study.
“Dan always had a grounded, practical style,” says O’Connor, reached via postcard from his quiet retreat near Edenfield. “He didn’t chase belts. He chased answers.”
What sets the Drogheda club apart, however, isn’t just Connolly’s depth of experience—it’s the team behind it. At his side is Aisling Hope Heeley, the club’s secretary and Connolly’s long-time partner both on and off the tatami. A native of Drogheda herself, Heeley is a full contact fighter in her own right, already making waves on the competitive scene with a silver medal at the 1985 Irish Nationals.
“She’s fierce, focused, and maybe the real boss around here,” Connolly joked during our interview. Heeley, always modest, waved off the compliment but confirmed she handles “all the paperwork, the phone calls, the scheduling—and occasionally Dan himself.”
The new dojo currently offers classes three nights a week, focusing on traditional Tomari-te lineage forms with a strong emphasis on conditioning, sparring, and discipline. There’s talk of hosting inter-club exchanges next year, and possibly even a youth program if enough local interest grows.
The Fighting Edge will be watching closely. With Connolly’s roots deep in old-school tradition, and Heeley’s sharp eye for structure and community engagement, Drogheda may well become an unexpected new chapter in British and Irish martial arts history.
For now, the mats are rolled out, the call to train has been made, and the Boyne winds carry the echoes of kiai once again.
📍 Location: Drogheda Karate Club, County Louth, Republic of Ireland
📞 Enquiries: Club Secretary – Aisling Healey | Tel: 041 303059
📰 More photos and student profiles in next month’s edition.
The Fighting Edge Magazine
1989 Feature Interview
Meeting of Minds & Martial Arts: Aisling Heeley and Dan Connolly
Interview by Anita Reid
Anita: So, Aisling, Dan — how did you two first meet? Was it through karate?
Aisling: Actually, no! Dan came into the café where I worked here in Drogheda. I was the waitress, and he was the regular who’d pop in after training sessions. One day, he asked for directions to the local dojo, and we just started talking from there. Turns out we both had a passion for karate — and that was the start.
Dan: Yeah, I always say I got better service at that café than in most dojos! It was a chance meeting really, but a lucky one.
Anita: That’s a lovely story. And now you run a dojo together in Drogheda. What’s that like — working side by side?
Aisling: It’s brilliant. We balance each other out. Dan’s the tough disciplinarian when it comes to training, and I make sure everyone’s supported — it’s a team effort. Plus, it helps that we share the same vision for the club.
Dan: True. And when we’re not on the mats, I work part-time as a doorman in town. It’s a different kind of challenge — keeps me sharp.
Anita: And Aisling, what about you?
Aisling: I’m a full-time veterinary assistant. I guess I like caring for things — animals and people — both in and out of the dojo.
Anita: So what do you like to do when you get time off?
Aisling: We love spending time together by the beach. The quiet, the sea air — it’s perfect after a hard week of training and work. And we often visit Newgrange — it’s a special place with so much history.
Anita: Sounds idyllic! Now, I have to ask — any chance of a wedding?
Dan: [laughs] Well, Aisling hasn’t run me off yet! But I’m not making any promises. The dojo keeps us busy enough for now.
Aisling: That’s right. We’re focused on building something solid — both in karate and in life. But who knows what the future holds?
Anita: And of course, your friend and our Fighting Edge photographer Fiona Doherty is already there in Thailand. How long has it been since you’ve seen her?
Aisling: About five years now, but we talk on the phone all the time. I’m really looking forward to the trip.
Anita: Are you excited about watching your old club mate Mal Reid defend his world Muay Thai belt?
Aisling: Absolutely! It’s a chance to see Mal in action on the world stage and soak up the roots of Muay Thai where it all began. Can’t wait.
Dan: It’ll be good to reconnect with old friends and learn from the best. And of course, enjoy the beaches!
Anita: Finally, Dan, since you moved here in ’79, what’s your impression of Ireland?
Dan: I love it — the people, the landscapes, the spirit. It’s different from England but has its own magic. Being here, teaching karate in my grandparents’ hometown — it feels like I’m part of something real.
Aisling: And for me, it’s home. Meeting Dan and sharing our lives here makes it even better.
Brendan Donnelly: Training with Sensei Ghlan Srisai in Bangkok, 1998
By Anita Reid, The Fighting Edge
In 1998, Brendan Donnelly, a pioneering martial artist from Ireland, traveled to Bangkok, Thailand, to train under the legendary Sensei Ghlan Srisai, 9th Dan Free-Style Karate. This experience proved transformative, deepening Donnelly’s martial knowledge and profoundly influencing his teaching approach.
A Master’s Journey: Sensei Ghlan Srisai
Born in 1920 in Bangkok, Sensei Srisai began as a Muay Thai fighter, celebrated for his toughness and relentless fighting spirit. Seeking to broaden his skills beyond traditional Muay Thai, he discovered Tomari-te, an Okinawan Karate style characterized by swift, precise strikes and close-range techniques.
Srisai’s Tomari-te training was guided by Sensei Takemura Seiji, an Okinawan master who had been conscripted into the Japanese Imperial Army during World War II and served in Thailand. After the war, Takemura chose to remain in Thailand to preserve and teach Okinawan karate, passing on his knowledge despite the era’s challenges.
Blending Tomari-te’s refined techniques with his Muay Thai foundation, Sensei Srisai developed a unique and versatile fighting style, embodying the resilience and adaptability born from cultural exchange.
Brendan Donnelly’s Training with Sensei Ghlan Srisai in Bangkok, 1998
By Anita Reid — The Fighting Edge
In 1998, Brendan Donnelly, one of Ireland’s pioneering martial artists, traveled to Bangkok, Thailand, to train under the legendary Sensei Ghlan Srisai, 9th Dan Free-Style Karate. This experience proved transformative, deeply influencing Donnelly’s martial arts journey and teaching philosophy.
Who is Sensei Ghlan Srisai?
Born in 1920 in Bangkok, Sensei Srisai began as a tough, relentless Muay Thai fighter. Eager to expand his martial arts skills, he sought out Tomari-te, a style of Okinawan Karate known for its swift, precise strikes and close-quarter combat techniques.
Sensei Srisai’s Tomari-te training was guided by Sensei Takemura Seiji, an Okinawan master who served in the Japanese Imperial Army during World War II and remained in Thailand afterward to preserve and teach Okinawan karate. This blend of Thai and Okinawan traditions shaped Srisai’s unique fighting style—a fusion of power, precision, and adaptability.
Brendan Donnelly’s Bangkok Experience
Under Sensei Srisai’s mentorship, Donnelly immersed himself in the combined disciplines of Muay Thai and Tomari-te. The rigorous training emphasized not just technique, but mental discipline, adaptability, and respect for tradition.
This journey enriched Donnelly’s martial arts expertise and laid the foundation for his own system—Seishin Freestyle Karate—which blends traditional karate with effective striking and grappling arts.
A Legacy of Fusion and Growth
Donnelly’s training with Sensei Srisai symbolizes the ongoing evolution of martial arts through cultural exchange. Today, Seishin Freestyle Karate continues to honor this legacy, encouraging students to embrace tradition while remaining open to innovation.
Brendan Donnelly: Full-Contact Fighting Career (1984–1989)
Between 1984 and 1989, Brendan Donnelly remained a dominant force in the Irish full-contact martial arts scene, cementing his legacy with an impressive record of 10 wins and 1 draw in 11 full-contact fights. These years marked the culmination of a long and dedicated fighting career, as well as the transition toward mentoring and developing the next generation of martial artists.
Continued Success in the Ring
During this five-year period, Donnelly balanced his roles as a fighter, instructor, and promoter. While actively competing, he ran the Red Dragon Karate Club in Drogheda, which became a prominent training ground for full-contact karate and kickboxing.
His fighting style during these years showcased a blend of technical precision and fierce resilience. Brendan was known for his ability to control fights strategically, using a mixture of sharp strikes, solid defense, and tactical stamina. His only draw during this period was a testament to his ability to endure and adapt under pressure.
Final Bout and Retirement
In 1989, Donnelly fought his final full-contact bout, closing out a distinguished competitive career undefeated by loss. After nearly three decades in the ring, he retired from active competition to focus on teaching, developing his Seishin Freestyle Karate system, and promoting martial arts events in Ireland.
Legacy and Influence
Brendan Donnelly’s record from 1984 to 1989 reflects his status as one of Ireland’s most successful and respected full-contact fighters. His ability to maintain peak performance while simultaneously growing his martial arts school and community speaks to his dedication and passion.
His influence is seen today in the fighters he trained, the systems he developed, and the ongoing legacy of full-contact martial arts in Ireland.