Fist Fighting with Black Guys
by Regis Boff
The fist fighting I did in high school was always against black guys. I never started the fights and I won only one decisively. I broke his nose and he was afraid to continue and I was ashamed, no that’s wrong, I was relieved. My nose was broke twice and I was always afraid but fighting was not a choice.
In most ways I prefer black people to white ones. Because I am big I think they prefer me personally as well. There is something about athletics that encourages this. There are rules for athletes that simply don’t apply to other people.
I used to be able to play a game of basketball with black kids and finish the day knowing that certain of them wanted to be friends, but of course that was not going to happen because off the court we both knew we would lose our bearings.
I have had black guys step up and protect me from racist black players who did not know me, figuring it would not hurt to beat up a big white kid today. Then there were times when they just stood there and let it play out.
Maybe the dynamic between our cultures is changing but I really wouldn’t know because I can’t play ball anymore.
It would take much to convince me that blacks and whites can make much real headway without sports; we are just too uncomfortable with one another. They hate us more than we hate them because they have good reasons and we have never had any reasons to dislike them at all so our internal justifications confuse us and simply result in awkwardness.
Black people make us so uncomfortable that we act like idiots around them. They in turn think we are mostly ridiculous. We treat them like they were our children; coddling them with paternalism they see straight through. We allow them to have a word they might be allowed to kill us for if we say it. We think that will get them to like us. Well good luck with that