A few
short years ago, before I was into Krav, and for sometime after. I
would be stubborn if faced with confrontation. I couldn't fight.
Hadn't been able to all my life...but I would stand my ground and get
knocked down or worse if necessary JUST to prove that I wasn't a
coward.
My
attitude at the time was: “You may be able to punch me out, you
may be able to beat me up but I'm gonna show you that I'm not
afraid.”
In 2009 me
and some friends got caught having a midnight swim in a pool bar in
Crete. It was my friend Hannah's 27th birthday and she
loved the bar and spent most days there drinking and swimming and
sunbathing. Turns out that Cretans loathe trespassers and so the
owner climbed out of his chalet with a three-pronged harpoon and
threatened me with it, puncuated with lots of swearing and grunts of
“malaka!” which means “wanker” and is about the most
insulting thing you can say to someone else in Greek.
I was
monumentally angry at this and being drunk told him to go fuck
himself. I then added “we'll leave OK but there's no need for
THAT!” I beckoned the others over to get out the pool while the
old man's son climbed out of HIS chalet in just his boxer shorts and
stood next to his father protectively, glaring at me. As my friends
gathered their stuff the old guy suddenly lost it and span around as
Hannah bent over to get her purse and whacked her hard across the
arse with the metal handle of the harpoon (this fucking thing was
BIG. Sort of device you'd fire at a dolphin). It made an audible
“crack!” and I tried to get in between them shouting “What
the fuck are you doing?!!”
Next thing
I know I'm on my back as the son had just punched me in the head. I
leapt back up yelling “DON'T HIT THE WOMEN!” and again
stood in between them. My friends bolted (including, depressingly,
the only other male from the group who was the first to run for the
sanctuary of the road) while I stood there, palms up facing these two
until I was certain that my pals had gone.
Bottom
line was. It ended badly, I got knocked down, but I had stood my
ground and for that I felt proud.
Problem
is....had I simply backed off when I saw the old man with the harpoon
thing. Had I not lost my temper and sworn at him. Had I not shouted
at him and then stood my ground then he probably wouldn't have lashed
out the way he did. Cretans HATE trespassers and his overly
aggressive posture and attitude were possibly just for show as I
later found out that with no entrance gate, this bar gets people
taking drunken swims at 3am at least once a week.
Now, with
3 years-ish of Krav Maga under my patch and the rank of P4 (stick
defences resit pending) I find it much easier to suppress my ego and
pride and think of a common sense option for what is happening in
front of me. Recently I got threatened by some gobby shitbag in the
street. Instead of getting into a slanging match and possible
fisticuffs I pretended to call the police via my headphones and the
lad buggered off once he thought the “filth” were on the way.
This year
in Crete some guy groped me on the dance floor of a local disco bar.
I twisted his hand away as I'd been taught and instead of freaking
out or breaking his nose, simply shook his other hand (while still
holding his finger) and told him not to do it again.
Ultimately
Krav at its essence is about NOT fighting. It's about avoiding
confrontation unless you have absolutely no choice. It doesn't make
you a coward for not fighting. Instead it realigns your sense of what
is important, necessary and appropriate in a situation.
Wading in
fists flying and yelling may look impressive but is likely to get you
killed.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Have your say....