Photo by Jay Soldner, Copyright Village Voice Media, 2024
Come on. Really. Is this my kid???
As I train, I secretly compile information to use against my master. I rent Gasser’s favorite fighting movie, a bad Antonio Banderas flick called The 13th Warrior. Surprisingly, it describes my exact situation: A novice outsider joins a pack of established combatants and learns their customs and moves. When Gasser isn’t around at practice, other fighters provide tips about his weak points; they say he dips his right shoulder before an overhead attack and his left shoulder before a stab. At one point, Williams offers up a cheap shot: a swipe to the outside right ankle that’s hard to defend. Hill breaks down one of Gasser’s special offensive moves, a fake overhead swing that ends in a chest stab. That move had been crushing me.
On a rainy day in mid-April, I decide to use Gasser’s move against him. Without warning, I execute the maneuver, sticking him in the chest.
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
He’s certainly having fun and he tells a great story, Frank. It’s about time barbarians got some good press. The slanders they’ve endured are just shameful.
Oh mans; when I was like 10 or 11, we used to play with foam weapons in the national park next to my school. There was at one point a staged battle of about fifty to more students, which I took part in as a goblin. It was seriously awesome.
But I never felt the need to, say, obsess.
Heee. Shaved heads for journalism!