Ray was a really big guy—stocky more than tall—a middle linebacker, about two-twenty. I was fifteen, was little, maybe one-forty. We were friends. But he was messing with me, showing off for the girls and I slapped him.
He told me it was on when we got off the bus. In fact, after we got off, the bus driver stopped and watched, didn’t pull off until it was over. I thought he was going to kill me.
We squared off and I hit him with a jab and then got him in a headlock, a schoolyard headlock. I had been wrestling for a while, had been in judo. But I had no submissions and this was just a shitty headlock, not even a choke. But he starts saying, “Stop, stop, stop.”
I was really afraid to let go, thought maybe it was a trick, then he started to wobble and I let him go and he was staggering round, almost out, like he was drugged up.
It was the strangest thing, not even a choke.
It just goes to show you that you need to be confident to exploit situations like that.
The bus driver got his money’s worth.
Being a Bad Man in a Worse World
Fighting Smart: Boxing, Agonistics & Survival
