Donald McCluney

Grandmaster Donald McCluney sits down with Jerome “Magic” Johnson for a deeply personal conversation about a life shaped by patience, faith, and quiet determination. The youngest of eight, Donald grew up in Shelby, North Carolina, riding the bench as a self-described “tailback” on the basketball team — until the day he saw a poster on the wall of Mr. Burris’s karate studio and realized that, in martial arts, his success would depend on no one’s faith but his own.

That decision, made in 1971, changed everything. Donald walks through his early years as a quiet, timid kid who became a fierce competitor in the super-lightweight division, fighting names that read like a who’s who of Southern martial arts: Tony Young, Eddie Thomas, Barry Shackelford, the Dillingham brothers, Tony Bell, and many more. He shares the science behind his fighting style — the analytical mind that studied opponents the way he later studied carpentry, plumbing, and electrical work — and reflects on the day a corner judge from the stands kicked his pride hard enough to make him a better fighter for the rest of his career.

But the heart of this episode is Cynthia. Donald speaks tenderly about meeting her in high school, marrying her in December 1974, and sharing 46 years, nine months, five days, and 15 hours together until she passed in his arms. He shares the story of the longest 30 days of his life — the month he quit karate because she didn’t want him going to class — and the conversation that brought him back, with her blessing, for good. From that point on, Cynthia ran registration at his tournament every year, and at countless others, becoming a beloved figure in the community in her own right.

Donald also opens up about his daughter Tamia and grandson, his deeply spiritual family of bishops and pastors, his musical life on lead and bass guitar, and the 47 consecutive tournaments he’s hosted (only missing the COVID year) — a streak Cynthia herself convinced him not to end at 28. He talks about being a fixer of things, a corner judge when needed, a sweeper of dojo floors when that’s what the day called for, and what he hopes his legacy will be: that he was humble, that he made a difference in kids’ lives, and that he passed on what Mr. Burris passed to him.

A beautiful tribute to a true champion of the art and of life.