It’s been too long since my last fight.
It’s a good way to relieve stress and tension. It’s an outlet.
How a fight starts, you never know — it’s spontaneous. If you’re planning on going out and beating someone’s head in, you’ve got a problem. But sometimes you’ve got to react to circumstances. You’ve got to whoop a man’s a** sometimes.
I guess it goes back to basic primal animal instinct — to who is the bigger dog, the more dominant alpha male, if you will. That was true for me, especially in prison, because there your reputation is everything. If you had a reputation as a pushover, you’d get taken advantage of. If you had a reputation as a fighter, guys leave you alone. I had a reputation in prison as a leader. Guys would come to me for help, and guidance, and for my opinion. That was a nice position to be in, especially in prison. You got all these guys willing to back you up if you’re in trouble.
Like I said, sometimes you’ve got to whoop a man’s a**.
When I was in elementary school, there was this kid and he kept pestering me. One time I think he said something about my mom and that set me off, so I grabbed his head and slammed him against the wall and split his head open. I’m thinking I was probably eight years old.
Nobody was happy about it. I told them how he said something about my mom and wouldn’t leave me alone. My dad told me fighting doesn’t solve anything, but I got sent to the principal’s office. He made my take down my pants. He said ‘Bend over.’ Then he spanked me with the paddle, a couple of times. I didn’t cry, I wouldn’t cry in front of the principal, but you can believe it stings.
When it came to fighting, I enjoyed the feeling of expressing myself through controlled violence.
In high school, I remember one of the biggest examples. I got into a fight with a group of guys. It was supposed to be one on one, but it ended up as three on one.
One of them was in my classroom. This dude was a short leprechon, a little muscle dude, but it was baby muscle. He wasn’t big by any means, just cut up. One day he got slick in the mouth in class, about how he was a wrestler who could take anybody down. I said ‘I’ll test that theory.’ I said ‘We’re about the same weight class, we can do it any time.’ He said, ‘No, meet me at such and such a place after school.’
I was wrestling at 165-167 pounds or so. I wasn’t a big kid then, but I was solid and muscular.
So I started working this guy over, so his other two buddies joined in. They were supposedly some little gang, thought they were tough a**es. His buddy had a screwdriver and he came from behind me like he was going to stab me with it, but I grabbed his wrist and twisted it upward, and then positioned my shoulder directly beneath his elbow and jumped up rapidly, hyperextending his arm. It basically inverted and broke. It did a lot more than just break — it was bad, dude. I was known around school for that afterwards.
The third guy, I grabbed his dreds and pulled on them. I was trying to drag him away from the yard, and his hair came out. I tore his dreds right out. I threw them on the ground. Other people who were watching the fight picked them up and were laughing about it. Some kids brought them to school the next day.
That’s the kind of stuff that really develops a reputation for people not f**king with you.
Contact Alpha Male Ryan at FreelineOrlando@gmail.com.