Tales from the Academy. volume 1

In order to pass the self-defense portion of our training, one of the tests recruit officers have to endure in the academy is called the fist suit. A fist suit, also known as a redman suit, is a set of full-body protective gear that keeps one's sparring partner from getting injured. Basically, after weeks of training us, our self defense instructors put on the fist suit and fought each recuit officer for three minutes to see what we'd learned.



All I can say is that the suits provide for a much fuller range of motion than one would first suspect. That, mixed with the fact that our instructors are some of the best fighters in the entire department, we pretty much got the skubalon beaten out of us for three minutes.



The point of this training experience was to test our proficiancy with a baton. While the instructors had head-to-toe body armor, we had a mouth piece, a cup, and a foam baton that achieves roughly the same effect in a fight as a soggy churro. Now, you may be wondering, if the instructors have full body protection, why were we armed only with foam batons? I wondered the same thing.



It's okay, I blocked his punch with my head.

Hate is a strong word but I really, really, really don't like the Dodgers.

I'm always amazed at how many people who apparently don't like baseball show up at baseball games. How else can you explain the wave, beach balls, or "DAY-O"? I live In Los Angeles; home of the non-fan fan. We've all heard the stereotypes about LA fans being bandwagoners that only cheer for the winning team....

Well, it's all true. Every bit of it.




It's a well documented fact that in LA, Dodger fans don't file into the stadium until the top of the third. If I miss batting practice I feel late. Nevertheless, Dodger fans wander into the park forty-five minutes late, and usually leave within an hour, depending on which team is winning. If you've never been to Dodger Stadium and witnessed this behavior first hand, you are probably thinking that this sort of thing happens everywhere, and you're right. But what sets LA apart is the sheer quantity of people doing this. I challenge you to go to a Dodger game, and at the bottom of the fifth, if the Dodgers are losing, look out into the crowd the way you'd look at one of those 3D posters that were cool in the mid 90's. You will see mobs of people stand up in unison and file out of the stadium like sheep. It happens every game; you can set your clock to it. In fact, the best way to avoid traffic at Dodger Stadium is to get there on time and leave when the game's over.



Growing up in LA has probably been the greatest contributor to my fierce hatred for the Dodgers. It's not a bad stadium; It's actually a pretty nice stadium... when it's empty. Dodger fans are hands down the worst fans in Major League Baseball.

As a Los Angeles Police Officer, I come across criminals and gangsters everyday. There are few places that make me feel more unsafe that the outfield bleachers at Dodger Stadium. Every game is like an 18th Street gang reunion for all the homies and their little bambinõs. I would venture to guess that there is more gang activity in the Dodger stadium bleachers than in the entire City of San Fernando. And somehow they call that the family section.

A few weeks ago, while at a Dodger game, I sat in front of your typical Dodger fan. It didn't take me long to figure out that this guy was the prototype for all other Dodger fans to follow. My first and second clues were when he showed up in the third inning spilling his beer down the backs of myself and everyone else I was with. Throughout the next four innings, (he actually stayed longer than usual) I had to sit through this man's inane rambling about absolutely nothing. It started with his spouting of inaccurate statistics of the Dodger's line up, then onto how he felt the team should be managed. After exhausting his ability to recite what he had clearly heard on ESPN, the conversation shifted to another topic he knew nothing about; women.



It's a verifiable fact that Dodger fans boo louder when a 9 year old drops a foul ball than for a home run from the apposing team. This guy was no exception. Even worse, everytime a fly ball was hit, our hero would cheer right until the ball fell into the glove... of the short stop. Apparently, nacho cheese and beer drastically affects one's depth perception.

As much as I hate the Dodgers - and I do, if I could change one thing about the MLB, it would be seating. Tickets for assigned seats should only be good until the game begins. That way, when I'm stuck in the nose-bleeds, I get to automatically upgrade my seats as a reward for punctuality. Once the first pitch is thrown, it should be my right as a loyal fan to relocate to any vacant seat of my choosing while the tardy, non-fans get banished to the upper deck for showing up late.

That's baseball the American way.

Yevereverillo

So, my readers have asked me, begged really, to post again.

To celebrate my recent graduation, my two closest friends, my brothers and my sister-in-law took me to a pirate themed dinner show restaurant aptly named A Pirate's Dinner Adventure.

It was weird.

The restaurant is a blatant Medieval Times rip-off, a fact that is accentuated even more so due to it's location literally next door to Medieval Times.

Basically, you sit and eat in a big room with a pirate ship in the center. There are five different sections - ours was yellow - with a corresponding pirate - ours was Antonio, the self proclaimed master swordsman.



At the start of the show, all the pirates are shipmates under one Captain, a fact that prompts this rugged crew of scallywags to (what else?) sing and dance. All is happy and joyous on the seas until the pirates encounter two young wenches and decide to bring them aboard. One was the daughter of a wealthy statesman and the other was a young gypsy girl. Soon, our heroes are singing and dance-fighting for the attention of their new shipmates. The fighting would have been much more deadly had it not been for the giant trampoline that just happened to be located in the middle of the ship. As the poorly choreographed fighting continued, the gypsy girl attempted an ill-conceived rope climb/trapeze act/escape set to (what else?) the love theme from the Man from Snowy River.



As the fighting continued, the pirates died off one by one. Antonio was the first to go; apparently his skills with the blade could not withstand devastating mule kicks from the the dastardly Sebastian the Black. Soon, all but two of the pirates were in Davy Jones' Locker, leaving the Statesman's daughter and the gypsy girl with their own rightful suitors. The two couples live happily ever after... until the 8:20 show.



I would suggest A Pirate's Dinner Adventure to anyone who likes pirates, enjoys over choreographed dance-fighting, and has literally nothing better to do.