Read Online Born to Fight by Mark Hunt, Ben Mckelvey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mark Hunt, Ben Mckelvey
Tags: Biography
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prison and had never atoned for it, but he was still there for me when I needed him. Such opportunities are worth their weight in gold. Such opportunities are to be respected.
Do you think I respected the opportunity? Fuck no. The first chance I had, I did my best to screw it up. In fact we weren’t even out of the airport before I almost fucked it all up.
Chapter 5
SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA
1997
Dave and I were moving to Australia with one suitcase each and almost completely barren wallets. With no idea when the next chance for a piss-up might be, we decided to get stuck into the free booze that we were happy to find on the plane. By the time we touched down at Kingsford Smith Airport we were well pissed up. George met us at the airport and when he saw the state of us country cousins (not to mention the smell, which he did many times) he was not pleased.
George started giving us a serve before we’d even finished with the ‘hellos’. Dave told his brother to settle those lips of his and I thought it was all a bit of a laugh until George turned to us and said, ‘Do you two fellas want to kiss the floor?’
‘What the fuck did you say to me?’ I barked at George.My fists were already starting to ball. I don’t let people threaten me – it doesn’t matter who you are or what you’re doing for me. I still have problems letting that shit go.
‘Keep that up and you boys will be living on the fucking street,’ George said.
‘Bro, it’s not like we just took a bus to Otahuhu,’ Dave said to me quietly. ‘Let’s just try keep it a little bit cool, yeah?’
He was right of course. We weren’t even out of Sydney Airport yet and I was one drunken punch away from being homeless and probably arrested. I figured Australians would take a fairly dim view of drunken Kiwis punching on in their international airports. Not the best way to start my new life.
A couple of nights later, Dave and I met up with some other Kiwi fellas we knew and at the end of the night we had door jobs lined up. I had a red-hot go at fucking that up, too.
My first shift was at a place in Quakers Hill where the junior bouncers also had to collect glasses. I didn’t mind that at all, as I had no delusions any job was below my station. Late in my shift I walked past one of the Aussie bouncers – an older guy who’d been hazing me and giving me shit all night. He stuck his foot out in front of me, causing me to drop a whole tray of glasses in a spectacle that brought every eye in the place on me. The other bouncers laughed, along with the punters and a lot of the girls.
I was straight back at school. I was in a place I couldn’t just walk away from, with everyone laughing at me. The old fire in me started to flame, with the hair on the back of my knuckles beginning to tingle.
I cleaned up the broken glass then told the Aussie bouncer I wanted to have a quick chat with him outside. Pretty much as soon as we walked out the door he was lying on the ground with a shattered jaw. As I stood over him I didn’t feel strong or exultant, I just felt depressed. This was another opportunity I’d fucked up, which is not to say I was repentant. I didn’t see how this thing could have gone any other way.
I was told to go to the office to meet one of the bosses, but I figured I’d be meeting the cops there so I took off. When someone finally found me, it was the boss I was supposed to meet. He told me the bouncer I slugged had been hazing new guys for a while and they weren’t unhappy with the situation.
The Aussie bouncer quit when he heard I wasn’t punished, and I was given more and more work. I worked all across Sydney, in clubs and bars from the outer west to Kings Cross. I also picked up a lot of work at RSLs, and there I developed a very Australian habit, later to become a very Australian addiction.
Over the years I’ve lost hundreds and hundreds of thousands of dollars to the pokies, maybe even more, not to mention losing my mind from time to
Do you think I respected the opportunity? Fuck no. The first chance I had, I did my best to screw it up. In fact we weren’t even out of the airport before I almost fucked it all up.
Chapter 5
SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA
1997
Dave and I were moving to Australia with one suitcase each and almost completely barren wallets. With no idea when the next chance for a piss-up might be, we decided to get stuck into the free booze that we were happy to find on the plane. By the time we touched down at Kingsford Smith Airport we were well pissed up. George met us at the airport and when he saw the state of us country cousins (not to mention the smell, which he did many times) he was not pleased.
George started giving us a serve before we’d even finished with the ‘hellos’. Dave told his brother to settle those lips of his and I thought it was all a bit of a laugh until George turned to us and said, ‘Do you two fellas want to kiss the floor?’
‘What the fuck did you say to me?’ I barked at George.My fists were already starting to ball. I don’t let people threaten me – it doesn’t matter who you are or what you’re doing for me. I still have problems letting that shit go.
‘Keep that up and you boys will be living on the fucking street,’ George said.
‘Bro, it’s not like we just took a bus to Otahuhu,’ Dave said to me quietly. ‘Let’s just try keep it a little bit cool, yeah?’
He was right of course. We weren’t even out of Sydney Airport yet and I was one drunken punch away from being homeless and probably arrested. I figured Australians would take a fairly dim view of drunken Kiwis punching on in their international airports. Not the best way to start my new life.
A couple of nights later, Dave and I met up with some other Kiwi fellas we knew and at the end of the night we had door jobs lined up. I had a red-hot go at fucking that up, too.
My first shift was at a place in Quakers Hill where the junior bouncers also had to collect glasses. I didn’t mind that at all, as I had no delusions any job was below my station. Late in my shift I walked past one of the Aussie bouncers – an older guy who’d been hazing me and giving me shit all night. He stuck his foot out in front of me, causing me to drop a whole tray of glasses in a spectacle that brought every eye in the place on me. The other bouncers laughed, along with the punters and a lot of the girls.
I was straight back at school. I was in a place I couldn’t just walk away from, with everyone laughing at me. The old fire in me started to flame, with the hair on the back of my knuckles beginning to tingle.
I cleaned up the broken glass then told the Aussie bouncer I wanted to have a quick chat with him outside. Pretty much as soon as we walked out the door he was lying on the ground with a shattered jaw. As I stood over him I didn’t feel strong or exultant, I just felt depressed. This was another opportunity I’d fucked up, which is not to say I was repentant. I didn’t see how this thing could have gone any other way.
I was told to go to the office to meet one of the bosses, but I figured I’d be meeting the cops there so I took off. When someone finally found me, it was the boss I was supposed to meet. He told me the bouncer I slugged had been hazing new guys for a while and they weren’t unhappy with the situation.
The Aussie bouncer quit when he heard I wasn’t punished, and I was given more and more work. I worked all across Sydney, in clubs and bars from the outer west to Kings Cross. I also picked up a lot of work at RSLs, and there I developed a very Australian habit, later to become a very Australian addiction.
Over the years I’ve lost hundreds and hundreds of thousands of dollars to the pokies, maybe even more, not to mention losing my mind from time to
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