Warriors ,come out and play

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I was reading Violence Girl. Alice's website (Link on the blogroll) and I remembered this event from my childhood.

My Cousins have always been fighters, they were taught to be that way since they were young and when they came over to East Los Angeles (City Terrace) from Mexico City they were in their element.

My family on my dads side has always been heavy on the Futbol, Playing it and not so much watching it on TV.....so one of the other local City Terrace teams had some words with one of my uncles at the Plaza Market and they beat him up at Yolies (the bar that was next to Mercado Hidalgo)

My Uncle came home bleeding that day and the next day the cousins went looking for them....Everyone hated this uncle and understood that he probably deserved the beating but they liked to fight...so they went hunting.

I just remember my uncles and cousins loading up the backs of their cars with baseball bats and pipes so they could get their fight on.

About 3 cars left my Aunts house and came back about an hour later angry that they could not find the guys that beat up my uncle.

The next day, (I was walking home from Kennedy Elementary school) East on Ramboz Dr. then I made a right into the alley way (On my way to Van Pelt) I was about 9 when this all happened.
A car hit another right in from of me .

They were parked in the alley that I had just walked up on behind the school parking lot. My uncle was driving south on Van Pelt, after the hit a bunch of guys came out and started beating on my uncle again.

I ran home and told my Dad, uncles and cousins what was going on and they all took their bats and pipes out of the back of the cars and ran down the street to where they were beating up my uncle.

I followed them , even thought my aunt said that I had to stay in the house because it was dangerous.

I heard yelling and screaming and glass breaking.

As I inched closer and closer to where the fight was happening I saw blood everywhere and about 8 guys going at it...biting....knees....pipes.....bats swinging.

The sound of a bat hitting a bone is a sound that I will never forget.

I saw it all.

The people that hit my uncle all ran away (left the car there)my cousins and uncles all got in their cars and went looking for them (They did not find them) My dad was happy that I went and told them what was going on.

They did not understand how much my cousins loved fighting and underestimated them.

The next day, I asked my cousin if I could train with him.

We woke up at 5am and I promised my mom that I could go to school and work out(I never told her I kept falling asleep in class because of it)

We would run at City Terrace park and lift weights at home before I would go to school .

Thinking I was one of them, Hoping that one day I would get the call and be able to defend my family.



I have only seen my dad fight a few times in these type of situations (always futbol related) but always dangerous, he has always been more of a lover that a fighter.


My mom and dad broke up shortly after that and my uncles stopped talking to us and my cousins moved back to Mexico City.


I never had a chance to be an active part of that type of fight and feel that I am better man for it.



I thought my futbol days were over but then my step dad came along (a futbol ref on weekends) 22 against 1....but I guess for my step dad those were good odds.(But that is a whole other story)