When I was 11 years old I had a "Three O' Clock High" moment with Todd, the bully of the neighborhood... He had called me out at a wiffleball game in front of his house. Everyone was there and I was completely petrified of him, but I had to agree to fight him otherwise it would have gotten really ugly. You can't be called a pussy ever, it just sucks... but when you are ten years old and all of your friends are standing around it could be life changing.
We agreed to meet at the senior citizen section of the projects we all lived in. Unfortunately it was right by where my Nani lived, and it was sunday so my entire family was in her tiny apartment for dinner... Most Italians get together on Sunday for a big pasta thing. They drink wine and pretend no one is getting physically or mentally abused by the men in the family every other day of the week.
I was petrified but I just couldn't show it, my neighborhood was kind of like A Bronx Tale in that way, you didn't show fear or talk about your feelings... and if you got caught jerking off you denied it. Nobody jerked off.... ever.
So an hour after the wiffleball game I was supposed to meet with Todd and he was going to punch a new hole in my face, leaving me with a permanent scar for the rest of my life. I got my neighbor and friend Ronnie and one other buddy to just hang out with me in case Todd and his friends jumped me, but Todd was like 200 pounds at eleven years old and I was about 45 pounds so I couldn't really see a need for that. It was finally time, I stood there trying not to let them see me shake as Todd walked around the corner with that reddish blonde crewcut and stained white t-shirt. He has two friends with him as well, and I could only hope that Ronnie and the other guy could handle them while Todd was on sitting on my chest pounding the back of my head into the sidewalk. Todd approached me talking a bunch of smack about me with this shit eating yellow toothed grin, waving his hands like a baboon. I balled up my fist and socked him right in the face. I had no idea where it came from or how I did it, but he fell to the ground holding his face. The adrenaline was so powerful that it made me roll him off his side onto his back, and while rolling my knees onto his shoulders so he couldn't move, I started initiating control of the situation with a Generals authority.
Todd started crying and trying to block his face, but my hands were to quick and small and just kept sliding inbetween them, smacking his nose and forehead... blood was flying everywhere and I was loving it. I hadn't even seen the movie Bad Boys yet. I was so young I didn't really know any better, but I was having so much fun that if my Uncle Vince hadn't ran out of Nani's house from all the screaming and pulled me off of him, I wouldn't have stopped till he was dead. The smile on my Uncles face was pretty funny though, it's a lot different walking into a house full of Italian women after you lose a fight. They all get hot towels and ice cubes, flailing their hands in the air and moaning a lot, as for when you win a fight they all kiss you and call you a tough guy.... then tell you it's wrong to hit people whilst scrunching your cheeks with their garlic stenched fingertips, always leaving a small piece of parsley or some shit stuck to your cheek when they are done.
I didn't become King of the hill or the town bully, everyone just kinda knew not to fuck with the small kid. I didn't let it go to my head, but I never forgot that feeling it gave me... it's always better to have total control rather than feel like a total pussy.
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