The end of EBP

EBP, my 10th grade clan, broke up abruptly. On the last day of the year Nob’s mother, our main buyer, purchased us a keg of Lowenbrau. I think that was the only keg we scored that year. We usually ended up with “party balls.” Anyway, a few of us stayed up that night trying to put a dent in the keg. The rest of the troops were scheduled to trickle in the next day.

The next morning we were wasted and friends started to trickle in. We had to make a Safeway run in order to get cups. On our way out of Safeway one of the employees shouted, “you forgot your keys.” I turned to watch him toss them on to the floor, down the aisle, and into my hands. I gladly accepted them.

In the parking lot I searched for the Ford automobile. One of the keys said Festiva and there weren’t many cars in the lot. Within no time I was racing around the parking lot. I don’t think I even had a drivers permit at this time. After I got my fix I parked the car and left the keys on the dash. That would be my one and only official joy ride.

Back at the house the drink was back on. We drank and drank and drank. It was still early in the morning. It was before noon, and not even the whole tribe had shown up, before I passed out face down in the back yard.

Shortly after I woke up I had to go pee. I did my business and then looked in the mirror. My eyebrow was gone. Somebody had also gotten to one of my armpits. My shock turned to rage. I went on a man hunt. I was throwing blows right and left. “Who did it,” i yelled. Finally Henan fessed up. Turns out it was He and Scho’s older brother. Scho’s older brother had left the party so all my rage was focused on Henan. We wrestled around and eventually smashed into a large glass window. At some point someone tried to knock me out with a large piece of wood by hitting me on the head from behind. Finally, the fight was broken up.

I ended up in a bedroom, laying on a bed. I was balling and one of my friends was trying to counsel me. Nob’s mom walked in, accompanied by Nob and some other members of the clan. She told me to chill out and I called her a bitch. Nob then jumped through the air an landed a good one on me. At that point my mother was called to pick me up. Soon after that I was escorted out of the house by my mom. I cried and yelled at my friends.

Back at home I dropped like a rock. When I awoke it was night time and everybody was asleep. My rage kicked back in. I grabbed an ax handle, my mom’s keys, and pushed my mom’s car part way down the street. Once I was far enough away from my parents ears I started up the car and b-lined it straight back to Nob’s house. Luckily my sister saw me from the other side of the street on her way home.

Back at Nob’s I searched for a way into the house. I got into the back yard and tried to open the sliding glass door. I was having no luck, or “good” luck I could say, when my dad showed up. He found me laying in the side yard of Nob’s house with an ax handle in my hand.

Yes, EBP broke up that day. I was the leader, and what turned out to be the glue. Some of the guys started a new gang, some stayed friends with me, and in the following year I was absorbed into a new group as well. The black eye went away, the armpit hair grew back, and I eventually appreciated the lack of eyebrow. I recall going golfing with a snazzy, blue-curled, drawn on eyebrow, later that month…

My first big fight

Living next door to my school when I was young was nice. It gave me easy access to a large play area. During the summer there were little league games held at the back, upper level of the school. Me, being a little leaguer myself, would gravitate to the games.

One day I found myself up at the field in an difficult situation. A group of boys from one of the cross town schools decided to pick on me. One of them, who i believe was in the grade ahead of me “called me out.” He had all sorts of boys supporting him and heckling me. Some of these boys were two or more grades above me.

Sure enough I backed down. They followed me all the way across the school and down a street, calling me names, etc. I even passed up my house because I didn’t want them to know where I lived. They eventually stopped, turned around, and headed back to the school. I sat alone, timid, and shaken to my bones. I felt pretty much like a “chump.”

After standing for a while a change of mind welled up from within my being. I decided to go back and stand up for myself. I walked all the way back to the field and told the kid, “I accept.” Of Course I was still feeling kinda scared and timid, and we were close to the stands where the parents were. Sure enough they called me on my desire to fight in that spot. They said, “You just want to fight here so the parents will save you.” They requested to move the mob to behind one of the school buildings. I reluctantly accepted.

Around this time two older boys from my side of town saw the uneven “back up” situation, and told me they would “coach,” and support me. They filled my mind with all sorts of boxing related strategies. All this wisdom was about to go out the other ear.

The circle formed and into the ring I went. This fight would set the tone for several others that I had growing up. Intense and Fierce. I walked right up to the kid and punched him in the face. Immediately, I got him in a head lock. I dragged him back and forth across the ring. Then I threw him on the ground and straddled his chest/stomach region. With both hands I choked him till his face begun to turn blue. The older kids from his side and my “coaches” rushed in and broke up the fight. I remember one of my coaches saying, “you fight dirty.”

This was not the end however. One of his older friends called me out. Within seconds I repeated the same process. Punch to the face, head lock, followed by a choking on the ground. I totally wasted these guys, both, in a few minuets. An even older friend of theirs tried to call me out, but it was a totally wack proposal. This guy seemed like he was in High School. My coaches backed him off.