Back in the early 1990s Raphael and three other Puerto Rican martial artists landed a cool weekend security job providing secondary security for a heavy metal concert. These guys were not exactly heavy metal fans—I don’t even know what the music they listened to back then was called, but it wasn’t Holy Diver or Hell Bent for Leather.

After the show at this outdoor venue they were patrolling the grounds, having been brought on as perimeter security, not stage security or front door men. Between the equipment trucks and the back stage area they found “some stoner white boy” “drunk and high out of his mind” staggering round without a backstage pass or even a ticket.

“Well” says Raphael, “this place was crawling with drugged up poorly groomed whiteboys. We grabbed him and he struggled a little bit. You couldn’t even understand what this individual was saying he was so messed up, like he was speaking a different language. He wasn’t really a threat. But he was not cooperative, so we jacked him—maybe lumped him up a little—and tossed him out the back gate. Sometime later, our connection, the guy that had hired us, informed us that we had beat up Ozzy Osbourne and that we were fired! Now what kind of millionaire celebrity staggers around in the dark stoned out of his mind mumbling to inanimate objects?”

That made about as much sense as hiring skinheads to provide security for Snoop Dog.