This is a true story I found on the www.eightstep.com forum-this guy is really cool and hard… enjoy.
—The Big Day Out—
Last weekend, I took a group of my most underprivileged students from my dojo to the Dodger/Yankee game. They are all well-behaved kids and as a 3rd degree blackbelt in Kenpo Karate, I feel it is my responsibility to be a positive role model. After all, many of these kids don’t have real fathers around, so they often look to me as their father figure. It is only natural though, since men as physically large and intimidating as me tend to demand respect and draw attention. In addition, all of my students have witnessed me hitting the heavybag, and let’s just say they don’t exactly want to get on my badside.
The game started and everything was great until a group of loud 20 something know-it-alls arrived at their seats behind us. Immediately, they started screaming profanities before and after every play. My students looked horrified and kept looking up to me to do something about it. They know I won’t tolerate profanities in the dojo, and I certainly won’t tolerate them in front of women and children.
I turned around to see what I was dealing with. I am always fully aware of my surroundings, and I wanted to mentally run through any possible physical confrontation ahead of time. Let me just say this, I wasn’t surprised with what I saw. I saw a skinny Chris Rock wannabe type twig looking black guy in his early 20s, another early 20 something year old muscular black kid, and a large and in charge overweight white woman who looked pretty trashy. The skinny guy was making most of the noise, so I politely asked him to tone it down a notch and stop swearing in front of the children.
The Chris Rock wannabe was not very happy and immediately blew up on me, getting very aggressive. “Excuse me old man? I go to games all of the time and I will say what I **** well please. Turn your old white ass around before I have to lay the smack down Mike Tyson style, biotch!” After that remark, his girlfriend and his friend exploded with laughter, thinking what he had done was hilarious. They both jucked and jived and gave each other high fives.
In my 35 years of martial arts training, if I learned anything, I learned the virtue of patience. I waited until their laughter had died down, but I continued to give my intimidating glare towards the skinny wannabe comic. I noticed he was getting nervous and not looking me in the eyes, so I waited until the fear built up a little bit before I spoke.
“First of all, you will address me as Sensei. Next, you just swore in front of my students again, that is your second strike. One more strike and you’re out. I should also let you know that I am a 3rd degree blackbelt in Karate and these are my students, who you will respect. Also, I can not only hit harder than Tyson, but I would defeat Mike Tyson in a streetfight, so your threat is funny to me. Finally, if this is the first time anyone has ever told you to shut up, then I say it is about time!”
All three of the troublemakers began laughing again, much like the internet keyboard warriors laugh when I make similar statements. “The hell you say old man! There is no way you could hit harder than Mike, beat him up, or beat any brotha up. Everybody knows karate don’t work in the street and white guys can never beat a black guy in a fight.”
Before he could get out another word, I stood all the way up. The laughter stopped as they realized what a large and powerful man they were dealing with. Resorting back to my Kenpo dirty tricks training, I offered the comedian a chance to shake hands and cease hostilities. Clearly intimidated, he agreed and started to put out his hand to meet mine. Without hesitating, I landed a devastating right hand over his outstretched arm cleanly on his jaw, shattering it and rendering him unconscious. I looked at his slumped over body and informed everyone listening that he was now out.
His friend stood up, but I landed a snap kick to the groin with such power that it lifted him off the ground. The fat white whale started blubbering about me knocking out her boyfriend Tyrone, but she made a mistake when she threw the f bomb into her tirade. I was originally going to spare her, but I decided she needed to learn a lesson and landed a stiff left uppercut to her big belly, knocking the wind out of her and ending her screaming fit.
I called for an usher and told them the people behind me had passed out from some sort of drug overdose. I asked for security to escort them out of the ballpark, and they were picked up and carried out of the ballpark.
Everyone around us clapped and applauded at what I had done, telling me they were afraid to speak up to such a rough looking group and admired my courage. Several people said they could tell I was a blackbelt in karate, and asked about private training sessions. I passed out my dojo’s cards to all around.
My students had the biggest grins on their faces, proud that their Sensei had stood up for them and demonstrated the real life effectiveness of what I teach in class everyday. I told them if they kept training, one day they too would have the same mental confidence and physical ability to assert themselves.
As we were leaving Dodger Stadium, it became apparent that word had spread about me. All of the various street gang members and supposedly tough guys in my vicinity who usually attend Dodger games cowered and lowered their heads in my direction. All of them coming the other direction crossed to the opposite side of the road or sidewalk rather than risk facing my wrath, muttering things about Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee. While those who didn’t know better may have chuckled at first glance, it turns out wearing my karate gi and blackbelt to the game wasn’t such a bad idea
—Conclusion (by Mega_Fist)—
I think a lot of you people need a few terms at the University of life; I am quite similar to the guy in this story (5th Degree in Takeshi Style Taichi Kwondo Judo), and so if you mess with me in a stadium, you can expect a similar thing to happen to you.
Good day.
