Posted on 12/05/2013 9:46:15 PM PST by 2ndDivisionVet
At just about every place I’ve ever worked, there’s been one feature in my office that has always stood out.
That feature is a bucket of baseball bats.
I have been collecting miniature baseball bats from major- and minor-league baseball parks since the mid-1990s. At first, it was because these bats, which range in price from $3 to $12, are the cheapest things you can get as souvenirs at the ballpark. But after a while, I started collecting them because they inadvertently sent a message.
That message: Leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone.
Granted, I’ve never hit anyone with one of my bats, and I probably never would because they are collector’s items to me. But if the perception that I’ll take one of my collector bats to your head keeps you from approaching me in a way that could lead to something, that works.
I bring this up because I may have to start sticking one of my bats into the bag I usually carry when I go to my editing job or some of the other places I go when I’m out reporting.
It’s not because of the usual nonsense that I see and hear on SEPTA’s Route 23, a bus so crazy it’s made the folks at SEPTA start following me on Twitter because I make cracks about it.
It’s because I have this fear of being knocked out.
If you haven’t heard about the so-called Knockout Game, it’s obvious you’ve avoided the Philadelphia Inquirer and Philadelphia Daily News. It’s all the rage.
Apparently, young people have been challenging each other to walk up to the first total stranger they see and knock said stranger out with one punch. And when I say “knock out,” I mean out cold. Like a mackerel. Gotta be revived and everything.
Now if I’ve learned nothing else between teaching college students at Temple and teaching The Children Of The Corn at the Performance Learning Center, I’ve learned you can’t tell young people anything these days.
If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard the phrase “I’m grown” from someone who can barely shave, I could retire quite comfortably.
But I’m gonna tell the young folks playing this game one thing: STOP. I say this because the knockout you save may be your own.
I turn 50 in May and what you need to know about folks my age is that we’ve had about enough of your shenanigans. Every time I see a story on my Facebook page about this here “Knockout Game,” it’s usually put up there by some guy my age who prefaces it by saying “I wish some kid would.…”
Now some of these folks have boxed at one time or another. Others are armed. Most are just plain old, garden-variety crazy.
In any case, you can take that swing, but your fist might have written a check that your behind can’t cash.
Especially if the person you’re swinging at is a short lady with a large afro, glasses and braces. She’s carrying a baseball bat, and she will knock you out with it.
You have been warned.
Solution to the knockout game. The GLOCKout game.
I carry a long walking stick or metal cane.
I wish the lady luck with her bat. Unfortunately those punks travel in packs and when the “hitter” fails to get a one-punch knockout the pack usually descends on the “hittee” and beats them to a pulp.
I love that! Meme of the week!
You won’t know you’ve been attacked until after the deed. That’s why it used to be called a “cheap shot”. If you live to regain consciousness, your attackers will be gone. The only safe option is to shoot first in suspicious situations. Think about that one for a while.
Hmm, I have a metal cane with a dragon head on it and you turn the dragon head only 1/2 turn and pull out a just-the-right-length sword. That cane is illegal in some states but not in Texas.
Be aware of who is in front of you , behind you, to your sides, etc...
If it’s “yutes” walk around them out of punching range.
If one or more makes a sudden move, then fire away.
Also watch for clenched fists and the “interview” process: “Got a light, know what time it is, got a cigarette? etc...”
Ladies with Afro hair styles aren’t in much danger of being “knockout game” targets.
Seems crowded sidewalk encounters could become a free fire zone.
So it really was the devil that made him buy that blue dress...
If I cant defend myself with a quarterstaff a sword wouldn’t help I don’t think.
In California if you have one of those “souvenirs Bats” close to hand in the front seat of your car you can earn a trip in handcuffs in the back seat of a police car.
Which is reason #15, 875 not to live in California. It was such a great place when I was a kid. What happened?
Which is reason #15, 875 not to live in California. It was such a great place when I was a kid. What happened?
Democrap majority promoted and insured by third world invaders. The funniest thing about those toy bats came about during a 3 A.M. discussion with a cop (don’t ask) the upshot being that a toy bat in the car would be a felony and my loaded gun would be a misdemeanor. Doesn’t take a member of mensa to figure out which one to keep in you car if you are going to an iffy part of the town.
I’m interested in tactical batons. What are good ones? What about legality?
I was thinking of getting a telescoping one to be worn on my belt, like a cellphone.
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