Monday, July 11, 2011

Psychology of a Coward

I remember, back in High School, Coach Smith more than once stopped the game films that we all watched on the Saturday after our football game.  He would point to my little figure on the screen, and exclaim something about my hustle, how I was one of the only linemen to pursue the ball carrier, no matter if I had a chance of tackling him or if he was thirty yards away.

I remember doing it too.  I played defense, usually as a guard, and after the initial crunch after the ball was snapped, and the ball was in motion, if I wasn't down and under someone, I was on the move.  I'd run after the ball carrier like my life depended on it.  Jumping over people on the ground, and loving it. 

I never did reach the ball on any of those sprints I did.  I'd like to think that me being there, in the pursuit may have helped funnel the runner towards my own defense people, like just being there left them one less avenue of escape.  And you never know, there might be something you can do to help.

But that was my short football career.  Mostly fun, one injury, not a lot of excess glory.  I never got in any fights though.

Well, that isn't true, I was in one real fight.  I don't mean the pushing, tackling, maybe even spitting (!) on each other things you get into on the playground, or with your friends when things get out of hand.  A real fight.

I suppose by today's standards, it wasn't a real fight.  Nobody got curb stomped, or kicked until brain damaged, or cut, or bones broken.  It certainly wasn't on Youtube.  Or betamax either.

There were three of us.  We were leaning on a wall outside the Meridian Mall in Okemos, MI.  We had watched a movie, and we were waiting for someone to pick us up, we weren't 16 yet.  We were laughing, telling jokes, having a grand time mostly.  Suddenly, from across the entrance to the mall, about twenty yards away, three younger kids, all black (not important in and of itself, but wait for it), called out to us.

"Hey, you laughing at us?" 

My friends and I looked at each other in brief confusion, then Brad yelled back, "No!  But we are now!"

Was it smart?  Probably not, but that's how we were.  We were indestructable, and thought every damn thing was an opportunity to make a funny.  Yes, I still think it was a semi-funny comeback.

The younger kids went into the mall.  Only to emerge a minute later with about a dozen late High School aged guys.  All black (keep waiting for it).  They surrounded us against our wall, and one of them, assuming the role of leader I guess, asked my friend David, "You guys were making fun of them?"  Very angrily I might add.

David gives him a goofy look and says, "No dude, no.  I wasn't, but HE was."  David pointed right at me.

In Dave's defense, it was just him goofing on the guy.  None of us realized how serious they were.

So the guy steps up to me, and asked the same thing.  I didn't even get the word "No" out of my mouth, before he punched me.  Right in the eye.  It sucked.  My glasses flew away into the night, the back of my head hit the wall I was leaning against.  I covered my head and ran like a coward. 

It only lasted about ten or fifteen seconds.  Some older folks came running over to break it up.  I was freaking out, someone handed me my glasses.  I was crying.  Pretty much hysterical I think.  Things like this just didn't happen to me.  In my world, I was in a bubble, and nobody touched me like that. 

Mall security came over finally, and sorted us out.  Asked if we wanted the cops.  None of us really did. 

We told our side, which was pretty much as I've described.  They told their side, which was that we were calling them "N-words, etc" 

I was dumbfounded at that lie.  Once again, not in my world, were such things yelled out to other people, or fights over nothing.

So that brings me to a brief connection with a previous post.  One where I stated I was a little bit racist.  It's true, and it was things like this, that have taught it to me.  As usually how the world works, the negative things seem to make a larger impression on me.

When I see a large group of black people, it makes me feel that an ass kicking is about to happen, on me.  That's about it as far as the race thing.  Sorry for the build up.

Back to fighting though.  I wasn't a fighter.  Other than that one time, which was real enough for me.  I've never been in a fight.  Lots of arguments, and I've intimidated the hell of a few people until they backed down.  But no real fights.

For some reason through High School, and after for a bit, some friends and acquaintences were convinced that I was a badass.  That I'd been in lots of brawls, and kicked ass.  I admit, I did nothing to quell that rumor.  I figured it wasn't a bad thing to have people think I could handle myself.

The truth, is really too emasculating.  One fight, never really defending myself in it either.  Then nothing.  I have dreams sometimes, of being in fights.  Of swinging so hard at someone that I feel I could break stone.  But when I hit them, nothing happens, it's like a feather hitting them.  No matter how many times or how hard I try to do it.  There's some serious psychology fodder in there somewhere I bet.

I just don't like altercations, especially as I get older.  I don't like arguments, well other people arguing mostly.  Sometimes I still get a hot head, and argue with someone, but then feel ashamed afterwards. 

As a matter of fact, when just about anything happens that is big and unexpected, I'll likely be the one jumping out of my skin, and screaming like a woman.  No offense to women, who are braver than I on any given day. 

Nope, I am not the hero type I don't think.  I try to compose myself when things happen, but it really isn't fast enough to be the guy who saves the day.  My head spins for a few seconds when I get freaked out.  You don't want to be near me when the shit goes down. 

But, a few seconds after the big bang, I collect myself, and try to do the right thing.  I go towards the noise, the light, the fire, whatever.  Maybe I can do something, even if I can't be the superman. 

Just like all those years ago playing football.  Running like hell to try to help, hopelessly behind, and probably won't be the one to make the save.  But being there sometimes makes a difference.  Even if I can't see it.

Cheers

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