Pachuco

Pachuco

I do not care much for bullies. I never have and never will. I have not often been the object of their torture, but there was one time that still burns in my memory. This incident involved one kid by the name of Buck Feller, and my next door neighbor, Daniel. We had a serious encounter at summer baseball camp when I was eleven years old. It left me black and blue, but also a little bit wiser for it. This is what happened.

It all started on the first day at baseball camp. As I walked out onto the field, the dew sparkled and glistened in the early morning sun. I stepped into the dugout and stowed my gear. I was lacing up my cleats when I saw my next- door neighbor walk in. I smiled and shouted, "Hey, Daniel!" He just nodded back. When I saw his best friend, Buck, walk in I felt something was up because he smirked at me as he walked by. Later on, at lunch, Buck and Daniel just ignored me but, when we went to the pool, they started pushing me around in the water. They began throwing stuff in the pool at me, so I got out and walked to the other side of the pool and tried to ignore them. When my parents picked me up that afternoon, I told them what had happened with Daniel and Buck. They told me to try and stay clear of them because they were obviously looking for trouble.

The next day things went from bad to worse. Daniel and Buck started right in on me. They were taking little shots at me during stretches. Whenever the coach turned his back to us, they would shove me between them, which was pretty easy because they were both at least a year older than me. During drills, Buck threw baseballs at me, always making sure that no coaches were watching him. I was getting pretty hot under the collar. Now, when I got angry back then, I tended to do something about it. I told myself that Buck didn't know what he was getting himself into by messing with me. I began to let my rage do my thinking for me. As the day wore on, they continued to screw with me, hitting me in the legs with baseballs and bats. By the time I got home that day, I had bruises all up and down my back. My parents got worried. They knew that I was about at the end of my rope, and they discussed calling the boys' parents. In the end, they thought that that might do more harm than good, and so they told me to talk to the coaches about my problem. Of course, that would have been the smart thing to do, but I wasn't about to take this lying down. I was a fighter bound and determined to stand up for myself.

The next and fateful day started as the others had. Buck began hitting and pushing me during stretches, while Daniel goaded him on. I turned my back to them, as Buck hit me, just waiting for my moment. Buck hit my back hard with his fist. I faltered