Pieces of Me: an epic war between the Jocks and the Rats

[ellyssian]

For a hill men would kill, why? they do not know
Suffered wounds test their pride
Men of five¹, still alive through the raging glow
Gone insane from the pain that they surely know

Metallica - For Whom the Bell Tolls

Tom came up with that title - "Jocks vs. Rats" - one of the most infamous rumbles of the late 1980's. Tom was from Belmont, so he was a bit of an outsider, if you'll forgive the pun. You see, the traditional Watertown vs. Belmont rumbles of old, before my time and less often during, were "Jocks vs. Jocks", because, well that's who played football, and that's who cared who won (or, more pointedly, lost) the Turkey day game. As I've pointed out in an earlier episode, Watertown kids were generally considered to be lacking in means, whilst Belmont residents were considered to have a surplus of cash.

For some reason, I feel like Vincini in The Princess Bride - next thing you know I'll start talking about getting involved in land wars in Asia. But never mind that for a moment.

Anyway, "Jocks vs. Rats", which was, more accurately, "Watertown High School jocks vs. WHS & Minuteman Tech non-jocks, most of whom were from Watertown, with a handful from Belmont and Arlington and other points unknown thrown in for good measure." So, "Jocks vs. Rats" is more economical, but slightly confusing when you reference those standard "Watertown vs. Belmont" battles. "Rats", short for "Water Rats", which is short for "Rats that live along the Watertown shores of the Charles River and grow to legendary sizes", were, in all actuality, considered to be a derogatory term used to describe any Watertown resident, wielded in the prep-school educated realm of Belmont (to be fair, this includes a goodly quantity of their public school students in that fair land as well.) For some reason, Tom took this as a term of honor, and decided it applied to us.

Which still doesn't begin to describe the epic battle, the events which led to it, the general tensions that preceded it, and the great time that was had by most.

The troubles all began, you see, when Mike - leather jacket wearing, long haired, Watertown resident, and Minuteman student - was jumped - no, assaulted - by a number of WHS varsity-jacket wearing types. Oh, the drama! The action! The blood! Yes, they - the jocks - used a knife - and they used overwhelming numbers! (If you can't tell I'm setting you up for something here, you probably need to realize that now, because I'm flat out letting you know...)

Rumors spread like - well, keeping with the rats theme - the plague. Reports were coming back that no long-haired guy should walk around town alone. Those who walked the fine line between clever and stupid played both sides, trying to identify who it was jumped Mike - either to congratulate them or pound them. In any case, they never found out. Although everyone was talking about it, no one was admitting to it. Tensions were palpable, especially as one of the primary bus stops for Minuteman students in Watertown was the front entranceway of the high school. Evil looks went back and forth - if either group outnumbered the other - otherwise, it was duck and cover. Run for the hills, wot?

Things finally built to a head, and a date and place was set. The woods behind Victory Field, following a home game. Rumors, however, don't take time off just because they know the duel is scheduled. The jocks, you see, knew more jocks. College-level jocks. Former WHS students who had now moved on to the big leagues (or hoped to, after they skated through college on an athletic scholarship. No worries, mate, says Bubba, whose name I really can't alter because it's a nickname that already captures his essence. Bubba, it is told, has some friends who also have long hair and leather jackets. Thus some motorcycle club was going to come by on our side. Or, we were warned, on their own side, and a hasty withdrawal might be needed.

Needless to say, these rumors didn't help calm things down one little bit.

Ryan - whom you've met before - left his distant home in Arlington, and traveled home with us on Rocky's Magic Bus so he could be there to help out. My little brother begged to come, but no, we said - far too dangerous, serious business, this. Ryan and I walked down Common Street - wary of any interceptions planned by those football-types - to join the throng.

We stood on a road at the edge of the woods, waiting for the game to end, gathering our strength unto ourselves. And, for a subset, gathering up someone over 21 to make a packy run. Darkness had arrived, and with it, like in any good war epic, news. Upon hearing that news we quibbled and wobbled in our staunch need to stand up for one of our own.

At that very moment, Watertown's finest came by and we scattered into the woods. No pursuit, no problem.

Ryan and I began singing what we felt was a very apt rendition of the AC/DC song Jailbreak and, at the exact moment that we said: "Spotlights!" there were. Or flashlights, anyway. We were surrounded. In hindsight, we suspect the officers were very familiar with the song, and also appreciated the dramatic tension of the moment, or they just got lucky with the timing. We ran.

The flight through the woods was epic in and of itself - everyone made it out alive - which wasn't as easy as it sounds, as the woods were rather dark, and, well full of trees, as most woods tend to be. I did come close to losing a contact lens when a leafless branch reached out and decided to teach my contact lens to do a backflip. Grave danger, indeed, but we made it through and, all along Palfrey Street, we emerged.

More discussion followed in regards to the news I mentioned but very cleverly didn't pass on to you yet, and an executive decision was about to be made. You see, the contacts for the packy run had arrived at our former location shortly after the Police department, and, sensibly, vamoosed. Vamoosing, of course, is a technical term, which means, "don't turn down that street, and keep going like you had nothing to do with it, then stop at the bottom of Palfrey Street because there's a whole herd o' kids coming down the street, a bunch of them holding the money they owe you for beer." So, in short, those with beer orders were well off, and it was decided to reconvene across town at Bubbas house to sample the libations, where a good time was had by all.

As to the others? Well, the bikers thought the event was too childish for them, and they never showed. The college jocks took out their frustration at not being able to beat up some long-haired punks by thrashing the high school jocks, and - here is where I reveal the news, by the way - it turns out Mike made the whole story up.

He had broken up with his girlfriend, and was upset, so he cut himself, then he felt stupid, so he made up the story, and then, well you know what happened then, and in the end he felt stupider.

I don't know for sure whether or not the jocks finally did decide to jump him to pay him back, because, at that point, everyone kind of dropped him.

Another funny thing, really. Although Tom named the event, I really don't recall if he actually attended it...

Stranger now, are his eyes, to this mystery
He hears the silence so loud
Crack of dawn, all is gone except the will to be
Now they will see what will be, blinded eyes to see

Metallica - For Whom the Bell Tolls

Temporary Edit:
¹ - "Men of five" - I distrust this, and noticed it when I looked back after having another error in the lyrics pointed out to me; I believe it should be "Men of fire", but what do I know, I've only been playing the guitar parts for umpteen years now. I will verify when I get home tonight.

Comments

[opakele.livejournal.com]

Ha! Well done. You hurt them all bad, huh?