Turf Wars

(Continuation of Fight Night...)

Mouth got his ass kicked. He accepted the challenge to step off campus to handle things like men. Immediately after Mouth landed the first punch, his opponent's four-man crew decided to jump in. They managed to get him on the ground and kicked him in the face a few times. Although Mouth's boys jumped in to help, they did so solely as peacemakers. The end result were some minor abrasions to his face and a bruised ego.

The fight had been brewing for several months. It all started in the cafeteria when Mouth took exception to some comments that were being made about the men's basketball team. Somebody said the team sucked, and Mouth told the guy he had no business commenting about basketball since he was "trash." After some more barbs were exchanged, Mouth challenged the heckler to stop talking and step outside. They didn't end up fighting that day. From that moment, however, the beef was on.

Mouth was pissed off as he recounted getting jumped. He was set on dropping his classes. As his coach, I felt the need to intervene so that he wouldn't withdraw and lose all of those credits. I wanted to find a reasonable solution to the problem, but the matter seemed to be deeper than originally anticipated. Mouth was convinced that their quarrel was just the beginning of what could end up being a bad situation.

I understood that Mouth didn't like hearing this guy talk smack about the team. Few athletes would sit by while anybody poked fun at their squad. What I couldn't understand was why they needed to fight about that incident four months later. The disagreement seemed frivolous. I felt the need to dig deeper about the matter to fully assess the situation.

Me: I get why you were upset with this cat. What I don't get is how y'all ended up fighting months after the initial confrontation.
Mouth: Me and him go way back with stuff, like way back.
Me: How far back, and what happened?
Mouth: Years ago, when I was younger. You don't know this about me, but I used to be in a gang.
Me: For real? You? I figured you were selling dope but never assumed you were in a gang. You don't strike me as a gang type.
Mouth: First off, I don't sell nothin'. Not sure why you'd think that.
Me: You don't have a job and you need to eat. And plus, you smoke so I just assumed that's how you're getting by.
Mouth: Nah, not even... but I used to roll with this crew in town. This other dude rolled with our rivals.
Me: So you're still running with this gang?
Mouth: Nah. I got out of it a while ago.
Me: You were in a gang and just got out? What is this? A club membership? Don't dudes get popped for opting out?
Mouth: Not around here. Gangs are corny out here. It was just something to do, but I was tired of getting in trouble for dumb stuff that I wasn't doing. And plus I was smarter than a lot of the dudes.
Me: Why'd you join to begin with?
Mouth: My family life sucked. School sucked. Everything sucked, but they accepted me.