The Fight

Please read my last story if you haven’t read it yet. I usually wait longer in between posts so that you have time to read all of them, but this just happened last night and I want to get it out there.

Ok, now I have some real material to write about.

After the Wednesday night plyometrics, Will and I went over to Tony’s place to eat some duck and rice. Tony went hunting last weekend and shot a couple of delicious ducks, which he chopped up and put in a tasty curry sauce (the main ingredient was sour cream). Anyways, I left at about 10PM and began riding back to Springfield on the bike path.

I looked up ahead and saw a group of bikers heading towards me on the wrong side of the road, trying to play chicken. They looked like the typical teenage street hooligans. I stayed on my side of the path and yelled “get the fuck out of the way,” as I approached them. One of them barely swerved out of the way as we passed each other, missing a collision by inches.

I shook my head in disgust as I continued on my way, but the bike gang had other plans. I heard them yell and I turned and saw them coming at me. This is where I should have just sprinted off and the whole ordeal would have been over with. But I was pissed and I have a bit of a temper at times. So I got off my bike to have a word.

The teenagers were my size, but I could tell they were freaked out that I actually stopped and was now walking right up to them, yelling. They began backing off after dismounting their urban mountain bikes. I can’t remember exactly what I said or what they said, but one of them picked up his bike and tried to hit me with it. I grabbed it out of his hands and chucked it over the path railing into a black berry bramble. He and his posse got furious when I did this. They told me to go and get it. I laughed and told them to fuck off. They came at me with fists and bikes flying. I ducked as a bike was thrown at me. I pushed one of them over. At this point I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to really fight, seeing now that it was four on one and I didn’t know if they had weapons. It was dark on the bike path and there wouldn’t have been any way to know if one of them might slip out a knife from his pocket.

I told them to leave and we could just forget the whole thing, or else someone was going to get hurt. Three of them began backing off and it looked like the confrontation was over, but the original one who swerved his bike at me came at me swinging. I was still talking to the other three guys when this happened, and for some reason continued to argue with them while the angry guy swung at me. I held my hands up and ducked my head a bit as I kept eye contact with the other guys. I continued to argue with them as their friend swung wildly at me. The angry guy kept throwing punches, so I hit him in the face, jabbed my thumb in his eye, and grabbed him by the back of his shirt and drug him onto the ground, keeping him between myself and his friends. He tucked into a ball and kind of rolled away as his friends came at me. I hit one right in the nose and knocked him over onto his back. Now it was just the two others. I grabbed one by his earplug (the kind that expands your earlob) and yanked. His earplug came out in my hand and I chucked it into the bushes.

I continued to yell at them for a bit and we argued for a minute. Then one of them stomped on my helmet, which I had taken off. It was a $200 Specialized helmet that David K had given me as a replacement to my old crappy one. It wasn’t new, and had some cracks in it, but it was still a nice helmet. So I came at them again and a couple of them started running away. I looked down and saw an ipod on the ground. I picked it up and started walking back to my bike and my backpack, which had my laptop, wallet, cell phone, and my ipod in it. This whole time I was attempting to keep them away from my stuff, which meant I never actually chased them.

We spent the next few minutes arguing about the ipod and my helmet. I wanted $200 for the helmet and then I would give the ipod back. I got the ipod guy’s name, and told him to meet me at the bike shop tomorrow with the money and then I would give him the ipod. He and his pals wouldn’t have it, and we spent about five more minutes arguing. One of them tried to hit me with his bike again but I grabbed it out of his hands and chucked it way off the path again. I threatened to call the cops and they got freaked out and said they would rather just work things out. Another minute or two of arguing and I called 911 to get them to leave. The ipod guy, during some of the arguing, had went off to fetch a large cobblestone. I was in the process of calling the cops, when he said, “You’re not leaving with that ipod,” and chucked the rock at me from about six feet away. I ducked and it went right over my back; I felt it brush my shirt. They all took off after this but I grabbed one of them before he could get away. I was about to pummel him, thought better of it, and let him go. I went back to my phone and called the cops as the sprinted off on their bikes.

I grabbed my stuff and rode back up to Franklin St. in case they came back with another rock or a knife. From there, I told the 911 operator everything that had happened and she sent a car over to meet me. I chatted with a guy working at a Dutch Bros. while I waited for the cops to come. My thumb had been cut open from one of the bikes, so he gave me a towel to wrap it in. I told him my story and he said that he had just been in his first fight too. Some drunk guy at a bar had called him a nig and had shoved him. He said he hit the guy three times and he had gone down pretty easy.
“Yeah, it’s a bit different when there’s four on one,” I said.
“Haha. You’re right. You made it out fine, though,” he replied.
I agreed, and realized that it could have been much worse. The number one mistake I made was stopping. I could have easily just sprinted away. The second mistake I made was not being decisive enough. I was way too calm. I kept trying to avoid making it a real fight, but it was. I should have just gone all out and finished them when they were on the ground. Then there wouldn’t have been the threat of getting hit by that rock. That would have made sense in the real world, but legally I would have been screwed. And as it was, I could have been charged with a crime.

When the policeman came, I told him the story. He said that the only thing that they could be charged with was harassing me. Since I wasn’t injured (although my wrist is sore from blocking those damn bikes and my thumb is cut), they couldn’t be charged with assault. I asked about the rock that was thrown at me, and the policeman said that because it didn’t hit me, it meant nothing. NOTHING?? Unbelievable. If it had hit me, I would have been messed up. And to top it all off, he said that I could be charged with “stealing” the ipod. I began to laugh when he said this.
“You probably wouldn’t be charged with assault, though, because it was in self defense,” he said.
“So if I hadn’t ducked from that boulder, I would be able to press charges? And they’re innocent because I beat them up?” I said.
I wasn’t mad, just confused and bewildered to the point of laughter.
“Pretty messed up justice system,” I said.
He agreed and said that he believed my story, especially when I pointed out that a guilty person usually isn’t the one who dials 911. But he said there wasn’t anything he or anyone could do about it even if they were caught. In a court of law, it isn’t about who’s morally right and wrong. It’s about who follows what the law says is “right.” This is bullshit of course, and gives me even more reason to be pissed off at “the man.”

There are messed up people in the world because they were brought up in poor conditions. That’s the only way I can explain this fight and the bike thief who stole Justin’s mountain bike last month. Obviously our justice system, which has one in 10 black males and over 2 million inmates behind bars, is seriously flawed. When some poor idiot with a few ounces of pot gets caught dealing, he’s thrown in jail. But when this punk tries to put a rock through my head, I’m at fault for stealing his ipod. What goes on in someone’s brain when they think about hitting someone in the head with a cobble like that? Over an ipod? It’s pretty messed up. But no more messed up than the smell of Tony’s gas after a week of pasta and tuna. In fact, I’d take a rock to the head any time if the alternative is spending a night in the same cramped room with Tony again. I’m beginning to wonder if Belgium did indeed have a sewage leak problem, or whether it was just the smell of Tony upwind.

Anyways, if nothing else, I hope I knocked those damn cowards down a notch. Maybe next time they’ll think twice about taking someone on who’s riding the Zing Supreme.

Oh, and just in case you’re reading this. Thanks for the ipod. But, dude. Your music sucks. There’s better stuff out there than Slim Shady. Seriously, I wasn’t aware that he made a full ipod worth of crap. Try listening to something a little less agro for a change. A little Bob Marley and Presidents of the USA might help your attitude problem.

2 thoughts on “The Fight

  1. my mom got me that ipod man! im gonna be in so much trouble man, you gotta give it back man. My mom is so mad man.

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