Read Online Let’s Get It On! by Big John McCarthy, Bas Rutten Loretta Hunt, Bas Rutten - Free Book Online
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we’d both get involved with the UFC.
A few minutes later, justice’s black-and-white sedan pulled into the parking lot. I told the officers what had transpired, trying to keep my cool as sweat dripped down my forehead.
When a man walked toward us and said he’d witnessed the entire thing, I almost lost it. He was an off-duty Orange County sheriff out with his kids. After explaining everything, he turned to me. “Son,” he said, “that was the bitchinest thing I’ve ever seen.” Then he walked away.
Without another word, the officers jotted something in their notepads, handcuffed the men, escorted them to the car, and drove off.
As soon as I was alone, I called Mike Hillman and forced the words out. “I’m in trouble.”
Mike told me not to say a word to anybody. He would call the police department and make sure nothing came of it.
Elaine and I didn’t sleep a wink that night as we waited for my lifelong career at the Malibu Grand Prix to be green-lit come morning. But the only call that came was from the LAPD. My delinquent butt was expected to report to the academy in a month.
The only sunny day of our honeymoon in Hawaii until the last
THE BADGE
Live as if you were to die tomorrow.
Learn as if you were to live forever.
—Mahatma Gandhi
Even at twenty-two years old, I knew I never wanted to spend my life behind a desk. I wasn’t built that way physically or mentally, and I knew from watching my dad that police work would present a fresh challenge each new day. I never imagined some of my greatest challenges would come from inside me.
I thought there was nobility in the act of protecting people who couldn’t protect themselves. In my mind, there were three kinds of people in the world—wolves, sheep, and a sheepdog that protected them—and the police officer was the last kind. I wasn’t altogether right or wrong on the matter, but I learned later that there were some things I could change and other things I would never be able to. That was something I had to learn to live with over time.
Honestly, though, one of the immediate allures of crime fighting for me was a steady paycheck and health insurance for my family. When I reported to the training academy in July of 1985, I was hired for $2,204 a month. It was a big step up from what I’d made at the Malibu Grand Prix and allowed us certain luxuries, like being able to go grocery shopping. (Elaine and I had become quite the hot dog and nacho connoisseurs at the Grand Prix.) And the great thing about the academy was that I got paid the moment I stepped onto the training grounds.
I spent the next six months at the Los Angeles Police Academy in the twenty-one-acre Elysian Park complex, located outside the cluster of skyscrapers and government buildings of downtown Los Angeles. The academy is actually quite a beautiful place, with buildings atop a sprawling hill, surrounded by fountains, waterfalls, and streams. It wasn’t what you’d expect from a police academy at all, and you might mistake it for a well-kept private college.
Elysian Park was the location of the 1932 Olympic Games pistol and rifle competitions and has been immortalized in countless films and TV shows, including
Dragnet,
which portrayed officers in a dignified light. In fact, creator and lead actor Jack Webb often visited the park in the 1950s and ‘60s to observe the training and boost the authenticity of his show. When he passed away in 1982, his character Sgt. Joe Friday’s badge number 714 was permanently retired by the department.
Among the buildings at the police academy at Elysian Park, you could find the outdoor shooting ranges, classrooms, and even a cafeteria. This is where I and seventy-two other cadets reported for training Monday through Friday at 5:00 a.m. dressed in our navy-blue sweats, with our last names plastered in bold white lettering across our chests and backs so our instructors could tell us apart.
As a class, we all quickly figured
A few minutes later, justice’s black-and-white sedan pulled into the parking lot. I told the officers what had transpired, trying to keep my cool as sweat dripped down my forehead.
When a man walked toward us and said he’d witnessed the entire thing, I almost lost it. He was an off-duty Orange County sheriff out with his kids. After explaining everything, he turned to me. “Son,” he said, “that was the bitchinest thing I’ve ever seen.” Then he walked away.
Without another word, the officers jotted something in their notepads, handcuffed the men, escorted them to the car, and drove off.
As soon as I was alone, I called Mike Hillman and forced the words out. “I’m in trouble.”
Mike told me not to say a word to anybody. He would call the police department and make sure nothing came of it.
Elaine and I didn’t sleep a wink that night as we waited for my lifelong career at the Malibu Grand Prix to be green-lit come morning. But the only call that came was from the LAPD. My delinquent butt was expected to report to the academy in a month.
The only sunny day of our honeymoon in Hawaii until the last
THE BADGE
Live as if you were to die tomorrow.
Learn as if you were to live forever.
—Mahatma Gandhi
Even at twenty-two years old, I knew I never wanted to spend my life behind a desk. I wasn’t built that way physically or mentally, and I knew from watching my dad that police work would present a fresh challenge each new day. I never imagined some of my greatest challenges would come from inside me.
I thought there was nobility in the act of protecting people who couldn’t protect themselves. In my mind, there were three kinds of people in the world—wolves, sheep, and a sheepdog that protected them—and the police officer was the last kind. I wasn’t altogether right or wrong on the matter, but I learned later that there were some things I could change and other things I would never be able to. That was something I had to learn to live with over time.
Honestly, though, one of the immediate allures of crime fighting for me was a steady paycheck and health insurance for my family. When I reported to the training academy in July of 1985, I was hired for $2,204 a month. It was a big step up from what I’d made at the Malibu Grand Prix and allowed us certain luxuries, like being able to go grocery shopping. (Elaine and I had become quite the hot dog and nacho connoisseurs at the Grand Prix.) And the great thing about the academy was that I got paid the moment I stepped onto the training grounds.
I spent the next six months at the Los Angeles Police Academy in the twenty-one-acre Elysian Park complex, located outside the cluster of skyscrapers and government buildings of downtown Los Angeles. The academy is actually quite a beautiful place, with buildings atop a sprawling hill, surrounded by fountains, waterfalls, and streams. It wasn’t what you’d expect from a police academy at all, and you might mistake it for a well-kept private college.
Elysian Park was the location of the 1932 Olympic Games pistol and rifle competitions and has been immortalized in countless films and TV shows, including
Dragnet,
which portrayed officers in a dignified light. In fact, creator and lead actor Jack Webb often visited the park in the 1950s and ‘60s to observe the training and boost the authenticity of his show. When he passed away in 1982, his character Sgt. Joe Friday’s badge number 714 was permanently retired by the department.
Among the buildings at the police academy at Elysian Park, you could find the outdoor shooting ranges, classrooms, and even a cafeteria. This is where I and seventy-two other cadets reported for training Monday through Friday at 5:00 a.m. dressed in our navy-blue sweats, with our last names plastered in bold white lettering across our chests and backs so our instructors could tell us apart.
As a class, we all quickly figured
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