I think a lot of people have this image of cops as bullies. Â They were the arrogant jocks in high school that got off on beating up the Mortimers of the world. Â (If your name is Mortimer, I apologize. Â I meant Tyler.*) Â Cops didn’t get enough of a power trip in high school, so they decided to enter the world of law enforcement in which they could bully more people on a greater level.
I’m about to destroy your misconceptions, folks.
My name is Motorcop and I was bullied. Â Mercilessly. Â At the age of 12, I was not the looming powerhouse of a man I am now. Â (If you know me, feel free to shut up.) Â I was skinny and I was not so much weak as I was meek. Â What I did have, shockingly enough, was a decent sense of humor that I have since honed into a weapon in and of itself. Â 27 years ago, though, it wasn’t enough to stop the daily abuse I was getting.
My bully’s name was Jerry. Â Jerry was like a freak of nature for a 12-year-old boy. Â He was already damn near 6′ tall. Â What felt like every day, Jerry would grab my arm and put me in a rear wrist lock. Â Now, at the time, I didn’t know what the blue hell a rear wrist lock was. Â That has since been rectified and I have applied it myself a time or two. Â 12-year-old MC didn’t know any of that and certainly didn’t know how to counter it.
My State wrestling champ Dad did though. Â We spent many hours in the backyard training. Â At one point, I had that stereotypical TV-esque experience where I stopped seeing my Dad and started seeing Jerry. Â When Dad/Jerry grabbed my arm, I countered and followed up with a jab to his nose.
That’s about the time I started seeing Dad again. Â Cue tears.
Dad, on the other hand, was ecstatic. Â Not only did I counter the wrist lock, but I followed up with a punch. Â Through cupped hands over his nose and in a nasally voice Dad said, “That’s it, kid!”
So, I was ready. Â A few days later in the gym, Jerry grabbed my arm. Â Remember all the hours spent on training? Â Fell right out of my head. Â Jerry twisted my arm behind my back and forced me to walk bent over. Â The tears I had shed for months on end ceased. Â Now I was just pissed. Â As soon as he let me go, I turned around to his smug smiling face, cocked my right fist and straight cold-cocked him in the nose.
Jerry was surprised and had no idea what to do. Â He blubbered out, “We’ll settle this after school.” Â To which I replied (having never sworn a day in my life), “Bullshit. Â We’ll settle this right now.” Â Jerry shook his head disbelievingly and just walked away.
Jerry never bothered me again.
Three weeks later, I spent the night at his house and we spent the next two years of our burgeoning educational careers inseparable. Â I don’t pretend to understand it, but that’s exactly what happened.
For the first few months of my junior high life at a new school, I was the target of physical abuse. Â I didn’t plan the deaths of my teachers and classmates. Â My parents didn’t call the police. Â We didn’t go on Ellen. Â For a brief period, Jerry, a 12-year-old boy, disrupted my entire family’s life. Â My parents were in distress about the punishment I received. Â I was afraid to go to school. Â I know bullying. Â I know from where I speak.
In my next post, I’ll give you my opinion about the current state of bullying in our culture. Â Think you can guess what that opinion is?
*Tyler, we both know you’ve got a cool name. Â Don’t sweat it, buddy