Friday Night Fights

Actually, it was Sunday night, but the action was just as hot.


The story is that I was over at the V house playing all day Sunday afternoon. I went out with the V boys and some of their friends to have a little home run derby with a plastic bat and ball. I was pitching. I forget who was batting, but we were all having a good time none the less. I was in the middle of my wind up when a little red car came driving through the small field we were playing in. He was going a little fast and obviously not on the road. He passed us and went across the basketball court where a Turkish neighbor was shooting hoops with his boy. I saw the Neighbor give the Driver a "Hadi ya," which is the equivalent of, "Hey bud, what the heck are you doing?" The Driver parked his car in front of his house and the two started jawing. The Neighbor made his way into the street where they continued their conversation. Stevo prophesied, "They're going to fight." I assured him that it was okay, the Neighbor was a calm guy, and that's just the way Turks talk. They're a little high strung. A few pitches later and the Driver was inside his gate and the Neighbor was walking away. A few shouts later and the Neighbor was now inside the gate and they were talking again, just as heated as before.


Then it started. I heard something and looked over in time to see the Neighbor take a hard shot to the face. I threw the ball down and took off running. The Neighbor took the Driver down and they were out of sight, behind the Driver's car. When I turned the corner, the Neighbor was on top of the Driver and he was pounding him. I mean, he was really driving it home. I ran over, pushed the Neighbor off, and put the Driver in a hold that I hope my FBI Arrest Control instructors would've been proud of. It was then that I had to do the hardest part of all... start barking orders in Turkish. I told the Neighbor to go home and then told the Driver to go inside, sit down, and relax. After the Neighbor was out of sight, the Driver wanted to pick up the stuff he had dropped when the fight started. In the bag he dropped were three Efes Pilsen beers. He offered me one, but I politely declined the offer.


Later, the Neighbor thanked me for "rescuing" him. I had to laugh. "It wasn't you that I rescued. It was that other guy!" I replied. Even though I broke it up as soon as I could, the Driver still had a cut on the back of his head, blood on his ear, and what looked like a massive shiner building. Stevo wanted to know who was winning when I got there. I told him that no one wins a fight. Jesus said that those who love peace will be called Sons of God. Remember that kids. Remember that, and fear the beard.