I was about to get into another fight. Wolf just gave me a smirk.
“It’s on YouTube,” I said.
“Of course it is,” Wolf said, exasperated. “Go get your tablet.”
Boy, was he bossy. When I got back, Coach Rector was there waiting with the rest of the boys from our PE class. I gave him a curious look.
“They said it had to be either an epic fight or you got beat up by a girl. I’m not missing that,” he said.
There were three videos to choose from. I selected the one taken from the back of first class that included the confrontation between Mr. O’Connell and the copilot. I gave them the setup before I played the video.
“A guy tried to strong-arm money out of me on my flight back from New York. After my last fight, my mom made certain things clear, so I was in no mood to deal with this guy. Turns out he’s a professional boxer, and after the way he hit me, I wish I’d never met him.”
I’d not had a clear view of the actual punch that took down the copilot. It was one of those deals where a guy doesn’t expect it, and the next thing he knows he’s face-first on the ground. It was a brutal shot, and the poor copilot stiffened up for a second and then just collapsed. I stopped the video.
“At this point, I was officially worried,” I admitted.
“I would have run,” Tim said.
“I had nowhere to go, or I would have let him try to catch me,” I said and restarted the video.
The actual fight didn’t take more than ninety seconds. When it was going on, it seemed to last much longer. How I survived the hook to the ribs was all down to Fritz and my training with him. It was a shot that made everyone cringe, me included. I was also lucky I deflected the combination to my face that did all the damage. If I hadn’t at least diverted the shots, I would have been down for the count.
I watched the crowd’s reaction, and to a man, they were all wincing each time I was hit. Then it was like watching TV wrestling when the good guy weathers the storm and comes back. When Kevin threw the overhand right, and I hip-tossed him, they actually cheered. Then they got quiet when they saw me pounce on him and begin to punch his lights out.
“Jesus, man,” Wolf muttered.
“Is that what Cassidy’s teaching you?” Tim asked.
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“Well, it’s settled then. I used to joke around that you were our designated fighter. Now it’s official,” Wolf said, which lightened the mood.
“Everybody back to work!” Coach Rector called out.
I’d forgotten all about Mr. Happy. Watching the fight again reminded me I was lucky I surprised Kevin, or that fight would have been much, much worse. It was evident he could punch through my defenses and inflict damage. My face was proof of that. A couple more combinations and it would have been lights out.
◊◊◊
At lunchtime, we all met to talk about the class project. Alan had come up with a solution for his app for people without phones: Wolf had helped him create a pedestal for a tablet. It had a lock on it so no one could pinch it. I pointed out I would just take the whole thing, which had my two friends scratching their heads. Alan had carried it into the meeting, after all.
We got approval for the picnic tables and the homeless fundraiser. The shop classes would work with Wolf and Jan to build them, while Stacy would organize the painting. She asked Wolf to have them all painted a base color. Once that was done, she would get people like Halle and me to be in charge of developing designs which would be added later.
We had permission to use a school bus for gathering supplies for the homeless. Brit wanted a short bus, but I told them we needed to think bigger. We all decided that it was better to have too much room than not enough. I planned to get the school bus filled. Alan said he would set up the GoFundMe page, and Stacy and Brit volunteered to create the flyer design. I suggested that they send it to Lily to review. What I would do was have her send it to Frank, and he would have his people go over it and provide feedback. I had to pay him anyway; might as well get my money’s worth.
Speaking of Frank … he organized a press conference to be held during the second half of lunch. Caryn had talked to the school, and I was able to do it in the pressroom in the Field House. It wasn’t nearly the zoo LA had been. We had four local TV stations and three newspapers.
Frank had a prepared statement for me which said that Mr. O’Connell had started it and I’d been attacked. There were a few follow-up questions, and it was over. I was becoming an old pro at this.
◊◊◊
After school, I practiced hitting, and we started throwing when I wasn’t helping one of the guys in the batting cage. It looked like all the skill players in football planned to play seven-on-seven football. That meant the linemen were playing baseball with me. We might not be the fastest team, but we would be strong.
Jim had gained fifteen pounds of muscle in the last two-and-a-half months of working out and was now up to 265 pounds. His six-five frame carried the weight well. The good news was it didn’t seem like he’d lost a step. The Callahan twins were also packing on the muscle. I’d talked both Johan and Milo Bauer into joining us as well. Johan was already strong, but he was becoming a beast. He’d played catcher in Little League, and we desperately needed a catcher since Tim wasn’t allowed to play any sports this spring because of his knee.
Moose had had me in to talk about preseason training, and I’d seen his initial lineup.
(Batting Order) Name – Position:
(8) Johan Bauer – Catcher
(4) Jim Ball – 1st Base / Right Field
(5) Brock Callahan – 2nd Base / Pitcher
(3) Bryan Callahan – Shortstop / Pitcher
(2) Yuri Antakov – 3rd Base / Catcher
(6) Milo Bauer – Right Field / 1st Base
(1) David Dawson – Center Field / Shortstop
(7) Nick Rake – Left Field / Infield
Bench:
Neil Presley – Outfield / First Base
Wayne Turk – Infield / Outfield
Ray Quinn – Infield / Outfield
Bert Nelson – Pitcher / Outfield
Justin Tune - Pitcher / Infield
“How come you have me penciled in to lead off?” I asked.
“Two reasons. The first is we don’t have anyone else with your speed. The second is we only play seven innings. I want to maximize your at-bats. If you bat leadoff, you’re guaranteed at least three at-bats a game. With you at cleanup, you’re only guaranteed two,” he said.
I wasn’t sure how that would work out—I felt I held more value as a cleanup hitter than a leadoff man. The mindset was completely different at that position in the batting order. The leadoff hitter’s job was to get on any way he could and then pick up bases. It was up to everyone else to drive him in. But I would leave it to Moose; he’d been doing this longer than I’d been alive. I trusted he knew what he was talking about.
◊◊◊
Before dojo practice, Shiggy took Cassidy, her dad, Fritz, and me to his office. He wanted to talk about my fight on the plane. He played the video for everyone before he spoke. Everyone but Fritz had already seen it.
“First of all, I don’t see how you could have avoided the confrontation,” Shiggy said.
“If I had anywhere to go, I would have run,” I admitted.
Hindsight being 20/20, that would have been the best option.
“I understand Mr. O’Connell is a professional boxer. From watching the video, it was apparent you had no chance going head-to-head with him. I think if he’d had any martial arts training at all, he would have been able to handle your hip-toss and get back into the fight.
“I’ll admit I hadn’t thought you had the killer instinct in you, but you demonstrated at the end of the fight that you do. The last fight you had in LA, you were acting like you were in a practice session,” Shiggy chastised.