Chapter Eighteen

Here’s the next installment of Lost and Found. This is the first time to put some of Billy’s teaching into practice.

Thanks for reading — and as always — pass it on.

Be well — be in peace,

Ron Rink
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It didn’t take long before some of the bigger kids around the neighborhood started to use the pond for hockey. One Saturday I went over to skate and one of the kids, who was maybe twelve or thirteen, tried to kick me off the pond. I recognized him as a kid who lived a couple of blocks from me. He was a little bit taller, and quite a bit heavier than me.

I was carrying my skates in my hand when he skated up to me and said, “Hey, you gotta go home, kid. We’re playing hockey on this pond and no little kids are allowed. So, go on home before you get hurt or something.”

I just looked at him as I sat on the bank and started to loosen the laces of my skates so I could slip them on my feet easier. I thought back to the constant advice Billy always gave me when he was teaching me how to street-fight, “Don’t let yourself get scared, because if you’re scared you can’t think straight, and you need to be thinking all the time.”

So, I thought …

He’s wearing ice skates and is standing on ice, and I’m still in my boots. He’s carrying a hockey stick, which I could use to my advantage if I could surprise him and grab it. I’m more sure-footed than he is right now so even though he’s bigger than me it should be easy to get him down. When he falls, I’ll grab the hockey stick and whap him a good one with it.

I slowly got up onto my feet and had one of my skates still in my hand. “What if I want to play hockey with you guys?” I asked.

“You’re just a kid. You’ll end up getting hurt and go crying home to mommy. We don’t play hockey with no cry-babies.”

“I don’t think I’m a cry-baby, and my hockey stick is in my garage right over there,” I said, pointing over to my garage behind me.

When he looked over towards the garage, I swung my skate and hit him hard across the chest with it. While he was off balance, I lunged at him and easily pushed him down on the ice. His feet went out from under him because he was wearing skates and he was half-sitting half-laying down when he hit the ice. I grabbed his hockey stick as he fell. I swung the hockey stick and hit him on the side of his head with it. Then I turned the hockey stick over so the handle was pointing down at his head and I yelled, “If you even try to move, I’ll jam this stick right down your fucking throat!”

Some of his buddies began to skate over to where we were but I just stood my ground and yelled, “Tell your buddies to back off or I’ll bust your face with this stick!”

He screamed at them to back away, which they did.

I don’t think he realized it but I was just as scared as he was. There were about six other guys who he was playing hockey with and they were all bigger than me. I kept remembering more of Billy’s words and not letting anyone see how scared I was.

I called out to the others, “Hey, are you guys gonna let me play hockey with you? I know how to play.”

They all looked around at each other before a couple of them nodded their heads. I could tell they were either sort of scared of what I could do to their friend or just didn’t know what to say.

It felt good to have won my first real fight. I also had an awareness of just how lucky I was not to be getting my butt kicked.

I pointed the hockey stick down at the guy lying on the ice. “I want to play on his side, okay?”

They all nodded again.

I really liked this feeling of being in control and sensing the fear in others.

“Go on back to your game,” I said. “I’ll jump in after I get my stick and lace up my skates.”

A couple of the guys said, “Okay,” and the others just nodded and began to skate away while they looked back over their shoulders.

I looked down at the guy lying on the ice and asked, “Are you ready to go back and play?”

“Yeah, let me up, okay?”

I could see he was really scared and wouldn’t be trying to do anything to me.

I backed away as he got up. I handed him his stick and watched him as he skated back to his friends.

After that incident, I was always welcome to play hockey with the older kids even though I was only nine years old. It didn’t take too much longer before I was playing with as much skill as the rest of the guys.
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