Standing On My Head

Jason was playing basketball at L.A. fitness, and being 6'5" and explosive as a cherry bomb, was breaking some hearts. A guy who got tired of being dunked on decided to get seriously physical, and threw a punch. Jason just leaned his head out of the way, and returned with a single blow — knocking him the #$%% OUT.

He came home shaking with adrenaline, telling me what had happened. When he knew I wasn’t mad (he must never start a fight, but has 100% permission to end it. In fact, I expect nothing less) he relaxed and laughed about how the punch seemed to come in slow motion (yep. Tachypsychia rocks). Then he got serious and said: “Dad, everything you’ve ever taught me about fighting turned out to be true.”

I talked to Sijo Muhammad about it, and he laughed, and told me to tell Jason: “Go ‘head on, young Warrior. And…father knows best.”

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Back in the early days of the BKF, Steve pushed us until the windows were totally fogged. And as we sweated and struggled, he would say: “If you can learn this, you can learn ANYTHING. Math. History. English. You can be LEADERS.” And he transformed us.

When Jason discovered that his Dad, whose pious pronouncements are doubtless anathema to his adolescent ears, had told him truth about a survival tool, his brain literally HAD to raise his evaluation of ALL my words, just a notch. “If this is true, then maybe…”

Yeah, once upon a time I’d have loved if he just accepted what I said without question, allowing me to…