Years ago I was at one of the Florida Kenpo Camps held in the West Palm Beach area. We stayed at a Holiday Inn there which had a sports bar attached to it and Steve White, Len Brassard and I were in the bar having a beer after the day's classes. There was a wedding reception going on across the hall in the banquet rooms.
After a while I heard a commotion in the hallway, and I could see just a snapshot of what was going on through the doorway of the bar. In that small hallway were many people, all holding each other back, and obviously not getting along, judging from the tone of voice I could hear. Steve, Len, and I were at a table near the doorway with a front-row seat.
They were surging back and forth a bit from the efforts of some to get at the others when I saw an arm cross over someones shoulder and deliver a punch that hit one of the women in the group. That caused the pressure cooker to explode with little other place to go than through the door into the bar.
"Here they come!" I exclaimed as I grabbed my beer, stood up, and stepped back from the table. Steve and Len being quick on the uptake, did the same just as they came through and bowled the table over. It looked like an Old West barroom brawl.
I suggested we depart.
Once outside Steve and I looked at each other and I said "Where's Len?" I told Steve we had to go back in and get him to which he replied that he didn't think that was such a good idea. As it turned out, the owner got cut in the brawl and Steve was right but we had to go get out friend. So we did.
Now, we didn't just tear in there and make a path through the crowd. We looked in the door and saw a clear area and went in.
When things had gotten hairy Len had jumped over the bar and when we came in he was behind it, hand on his chin, just checking it out. We waved him over and left.
The next day there was a buzz around the camp about the fight and how we had seen it all. One of our guest instructors was an internationally known martial artist and he came over to me and started to ask what happened and who I had hit and all that. When I said I hadn't hit anyone he was disappointed and told me how he would have taken the opportunity to work his stuff. I answered that it was the sort of situation that 1) I wouldn't know who to hit, 2) I didn't have a reason to hit them, 3) I didn't know who was on what side and 4) if I had hit someone I'm pretty sure both sides would have turned on me. It's how cops get killed and injured in domestic disputes and that's a primary cause of injury in their jobs.
And, as I mentioned earlier, the bar owner, who had way more invested in breaking it up than I, was cut in the altercation.
While it may have been an "opportunity" to try out my stuff, I feel discretion is the better part of valor, and let it pass. What do you think?
No comments:
Post a Comment