My uniformed life ended with a resignation letter, that means freedom from corporate bonds (hello street-life). At this moment, while counting the last of my salary; wondering if it would end up until the 30th, I am thinking of having a racket. Some things pop in my mind, some old feats that I know. Thinking my way home after a nice chat with my buddies and beer, I remember this guy; a good ex-office mate and let's just call him Max. A bald dude who has a good physique and a nice car. He actually invited me on some races after our shift was up. He told me that our salary is not enough to earn a living or even filling his car's tank. So that is his reason why he has this kind of 'sideline'.
While riding his good old car, he told me not to talk about this in the office. For someone might actually intrude on our doings and file some sort of conduct shit or whatsoever in his doings. So the ride to mayhem started. After swearing that I won't talk about this in the office, he showed me the world of the underground fighting. Here, there is no rules, there is no referee either. The fight is about endurance and how long can you take the pain from your opponent. At that time, I've seen this fat guy, maybe around 6' flat in height, he's wearing a loose shirt and a short jeans. He's got a tattoo saying this phrase "only God can Judge me" on his right triceps. I thought that dude is one of the crowd, but his appearance is disturbing but at that night, he is the one fighting for the money. Before the fight starts, the crowd will place their bets on their chosen fighter and then the 20% of the total winnings of the fight will go to the fighter. For example if the pot is 10,000 automatically the 2000 will go the fighter. And the remaining money will go for the betting crowd.
So here it goes, after the moderator asks for more bets, the fight is on. The fat-guy send a hard-hitting blow over the face of the other guy. But the guy didn't knocked his opponent on that blow. A counter kick hits his ribs and the brawl continues. After sending some hard punches and sharp kicks, the other guy won the battle with bruises and cuts on his eyelid. Max told me that here, the only opponent of yours is yourself. If you fail to knock the other guy, that's your problem. He said to me that in this kind of game, there are only two sides; there ain't no draws here if you're fucked, then you're fucked!
That's how it goes, he told me that on this line of fighting there are still match ups needed to agree upon. Because a 5 footer can't fight a 6 footer all by his hands and wits! Come on, life is not fair! That's why Smith and Wesson created its signature peacemaker! On the other hand, this is the rule of the street, fight hard and thrive with its rules! If you're feeble and dumb, you cannot win this harsh environment! You better plant sweet potatoes instead!
We can find good lessons on everything around us, it's just that we are the ones who will pick the right decisions and wisdom out of the scenario we are in. In this case, street fighting is illegal, but some local officials still tolerate this because of its profits that is way beyond the legal fighting generates. In what I've seen, there are some professional boxers who are joining this kind of game! They're most susceptible in joining because the pot money lures them while they don't have a ringside fight. Some boxers say that this is a good training grounds to hone their skills as a fighter. Well, you are the reader you decide on picking what's a good shit and what's a no-no!
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