The Right Tool for The Job

When forced to engaged in combat it is best to use a strategy that fits the situation. Most often the ideal strategy is to make a situation into one that is favorable to your escape. You can beat on someone's face until you are completely exhausted and it still may not be enough to create an opening for you to get away safely without getting arrested, getting seriously injured, or perhaps something even worse. Your actions and/or decisions, whether directly or indirectly, can even cause a friend or loved one to be put in danger's way.I'm going to suppliment this concept with a story. This is an altercation that I got into several months ago. Before I narrate this short episode in my life, I'd like to inform you all of my stance on the use of alcohol and combat. Booze and boxing mix like water and oil. You should, at all costs, try to avoid getting into a fight or even a heated argument if you are under the influence of ANY drug especially alcohol. In my most humble opinion if you are drunk or even a little buzzed then all bets are off when it comes to a violent confrontation. There are several reasons why. All of which should be completely obvious. So, if you are going to indulge in alcoholic beverages then I suggest you do it at home, a friends house, or some other equally safe place where you won't be surrounded by strangers. The more people you are around who you don't know and/or you don't trust, the higher the probability is of some social situation going awry thus forcing you to make split second judgments and decisions in an intoxicated state. If it is avoidable, then avoid it. The first rule of taijutsu is to avoid. With that being said here is my tale:One evening a good friend of mine who is a proffessional, has a career, a family, and is a very very hard worker had some time off so he wanted to blow some steam and have some fun. His idea of fun is usally going out for a night on the town bar hopping while getting piss drunk. So he gave me a call, and invited me to come along with him and his cousin (his cousin is also a good friend of mine). I was having a little lovers' quarrel with my fiancee at the time so I figured a night out with the guys would do me some good. Now keep in mind that I'm not much of a drinker anymore. I used to drink alot in my college days, but after several years of working security in bars and strip clubs I lost all taste for drink. The constant exposure (6 hours a day, 6-7 days a week) to a collage of different types of drunks in their beligerant, deranged, and smelly state began to give me deep insight as to what I was like when I was drinking. This slowly but surely began to disgust me, and I essentially gave up drinking all together. On this particular night, however, everything seemed to push me in the direction of imbibing fire water. So we went to a few bars. We had a really good time talking and just hanging out. We tried different types of drinks but stuck with beer and stayed away from the hard stuff. My friend seemed determined to get me as drunk as possible. He would always make sure I had a full drink in front of me at all times. We minded our own buisness the whole time, choosing to just talk amongst ourselves and remenisce or talk about the future.Towards the end of the night we stopped at one last bar. This bar was a small hole in the wall pub in a really bad neighborhood. The niehborhood we all grew up in. So we were very comfortable. By this time I was completely shit faced. I just sat there staring at my glass of beer that seemed to stay full no matter how fast I drank. My friends were off talking to girls and coming back every now and then to chat a little.Finally they decided to leave. I happily and eagerly agreed it was time to go. I was tired, drunk, and ready for bed. As we walked out of the bar into the silent, cool night everything seemed just fine and dandy. I had a pretty good time. I was in a state of total drunken extacy. Two men tailed us as we walked out of the bar. I figured they were leaving too and didn't really think anything of it. Quickly one of them spoke rather loudly "Hey whiteboy!" I looked back to see who he was talking to then he signaled that he was talking to me and said "Yeah you, I'm fucking talking to you! why were you all up on my ladie?!". I turned an walked towards him and calmly said "excuse me?". He replied "You were all over my ruca (girlfriend) in there 'playa'. Who do you think you are, gringo? This my niehorhood" I smiled and stated "The only thing I was looking at in there was my beer and the wall. I have no idea what you are talking about." The man came uncomfortably close to me and cut me off right at the end of my sentence with a statment that went something like "Nah homie you were all on her touching her and shit, I saw it with my own..." I quickly cut him off because it was obvious that this guy was just starting shit and it frustrated me.I bluntly retorted "you know what bro? FUCK you, and FUCK you girlfriend. Hows that, huh?" His eyes filled with rage and he did a little skip then he swung at me. He, apparently, was drunk as well because his initial two punches were extremely wide and terribly executed hooks to my face. I blocked both of them with ease and instinctively closed the gap between us by shooting in and hugging his waste. I gave a very quick and half assed attempt to pick him up when I felt that oh so familiar shooting pain in my lower back down my spine (I have a had a severe chronic spinal injury for some time). At this point I was thinking "oh shit what have I just gotten myself into???". At this point he got me into a head lock with one arm and began hitting my kidney with his other arm. I was too drunk to feel any of his punches and for some reason , in that slow split second, I had time to devise a strategy which I quickly and decisively executed. I pulled his left arm down and out of the head lock then grabbed onto his left leg with both arms. Then I kicked his right leg out behind the knee. He hit the ground hard. I went down with him but did so in a "sitting out" position where i sorta just dropped straight down onto my buttocks still holding onto his left leg with both of my arms. I then wrapped my left leg around his left leg and pinned his right leg down to the ground with my right leg. He was laying face down and I was sorta sitting with my right leg out and my left leg folded in. I then put me left arm over his left toes, holding his ankle close to my chest and yanked his toes clockwiseso they were situated in my arm pit and then twisted my whole upper body to the left. I felt and heard two loud "snap, crackle, POP!"s and the man screamed like a little girl. This scream instantly brought me into a sober state. Keep in mind this all occured within about 15-20 seconds, maybe less. I scuffled and struggled to get off of him and up on my feet as quickly as possible. Looking up I saw my friends and his friend looking at me with wide eyes and dropped jaws. The man continued to whimper in a pain ridden voice "YOU BROKE MY FUCKIN' ANKLE MAN, WHAT THE FUCK, YOU BROKE IT!!!". My two buddies and I dashed for my friend's truck. All three of us saying in unison "we gotta get the fuck out of here dude!" we hopped in the truck and took off as fast as we could. Luckily my friend's house was a few blocks down. The man who attacked me stayed on the ground as his friend tended to him. He wasn't getting up any time soon as his foot just got turned in a direction that it wasn't designed to be turned. After we got to my friends house everything else sorta became a blur between the adrenaline and booze. I know we ended up drinking vodka for the rest of the night and I somehow managed to walk home. I passed out with all my close on, face down, in the middle of my bedroom, and I pissed myself. I hadn't been that drunk in years, and I guess I was so intoxicated that having to urinate didn't even wake me from my drunken coma and I just relieved myself right there on the floor in my clothes. When I woke up in the morning I noticed my sides and back hurt but I had no idea why. I didn't even REMEMBER getting in a fight. Finally, later that day my friend called me and when he explained what had happend all the memories came back to me in full detail. I guess I just needed something to trigger the memories. I got REALLY lucky that night. That guy couldn't really fight, or he was just really really drunk, or maybe it was both. But his friend could have jumped in and beat my ass. They could have even had a gun.
The point to this story, though, is how I reacted. I used the right tool for the job. The "tool" being the technique or strategy, and the "job" being the incapacitation of my attacker so I could escape. If I had just exchanged punches with him I could have ended up with two black eyes and a broken nose. Because I was drunk I couldn't react quickly so I closed the gap between us as fast as I could after he attacked. This was to create a little bit of time for me to think of what to do. You rarely, if ever, get a chance to "think" during a fight. It's really not actually thinking, but more intuitively deciding the proper course of action within a 0.25 second time frame. Instead of having a slug fest, I decided to take one of his feet away from him so he couldn't follow me during my escape, and that saved my ass to drink another day. I have not had a single drop of alcohol since that night. By the way, I had the WORST hangover the next day. Boys and girls, please don't drink and fight. Thank you.