It was the first and only time in my life that I have fought, I mean, really fought, with my fists; confrontation from man to man, a battle, a fight. At the same, time it was one of the strangest episodes that have occurred in my life. Many will wonder why, well it would be a matter of seeing how things happened.

It was my first day at school, in elementary school. From there it was when I began to have a memory of my school life. At my previous school, I was so young that I don't remember anything about the things I did except for a few vague episodes. It was a particularly cloudy morning. He was the typical new kid at school, completely lost, he didn't know anyone, he didn't know how to approach others and worst of all, being "sociable" was something that didn't come naturally to me.

So the thing was going around, the typical lost kid walking around the schoolyard while the other boys talked to each other. Head down and with a clear expression of shyness, he passed between the groups of boys who were socializing animatedly. At that moment someone put my hand on one shoulder, I was surprised, I turned around to see that it was one of the students. I hardly remember his face, I think he had a scrawny build and slightly bulging eyes:

--- Hey kid, do you want to win a sweater?

That completely surprised me. On my first day at school, a perfect stranger made me a strange proposal. A sweater, what would I get away with?

--- A sweater? --- I replied surprised.

--- Yes, come ... --- replied the boy as he made a sign for me to come.

I didn't know anyone, I didn't fit in the slightest bit, so I just had no other choice. At least it could be an opportunity to finally integrate. I shyly followed the boy, up to a group of people who were gathered in a circle. Once there I could directly observe the sweater that they had told him about. One of the boys was holding a white sweater on his shoulder, shiny, with a certain elegant air. Or at least I remember the sweater like this:

--- Hey, do you want to earn the sweater? --- said another boy, pointing at him.

--- Of course. --- I nodded, it was strange but what did it matter I had already agreed.

--- Well, you have to win it in a fight. --- another boy told me.

That sounded strange, it sounded out of place. A fight? Why? Who had he insulted, to make this happen? but I had still gotten into a fuss. I suppose that in my childish mentality, I considered that this was better than walking around the yard head down like an idiot without talking to anyone. Suddenly challenged by these unexpected interlocutors, I simply nodded foolishly as I said:

--- Yes, okay ... okay.

The boys nodded and one of them looked aside as he said to me:

--- You have to fight him, whoever wins the fight gets the sweater. He wants it too, you're going to have to compete against him.

Another added:

--- Get in the center, prepare to fight.

We stand in the center of the circle and prepare to fight. We squared off to fight, the thing had an air of a movie from the eighties. Something like Rocky, but instead of Sylvester Stallone with his muscular, sweaty, tanned body, unfriendly face, and a tone of voice so deep that it seems that he had a potato stuck in his mouth. There was a pale, plump, nervous-minded boy.

At that moment I studied my opponent, he was a black boy, with eyes so small and narrow that they gave the impression of having them slanted like Asians and he had thick-rimmed lenses like those used by Nerds or Roosters in American movies. His haircut was something special, it had shaved sides, but at the top, it was spiked, a very nineties style, Prince of Rap or something like that. He moved frantically and spoke in a stammering manner. He gave the impression of being hyperkinetic, retarded, or both. His mouth was open showing a couple of crooked teeth, he was also on guard moving nervously, making exaggerated and awkward gestures.

I began to move on guard. He had no idea how to do it, it was the first time he had fought. He had seen a lot of action movies, like Rambo, in addition to the Bruce Lee ones. I tried to remember all the movements and combat techniques, I had to invoke them, I had to remember everything to be able to use it effectively in that situation.

At that moment my opponent advanced to launch a blow, it was a rather clumsy one. Luckily just by raising my hands awkwardly, I was able to block it, it was close. That boy moved awkwardly, he looked like a chimpanzee with San Vito's desease [1](quite popular at that time). With a good costume, he could be an extra in a Bizarro movie, at that moment the boy threw another blow with the same result. His very clumsiness allowed him to block it without much trouble.

After that he moved to the side, we started spinning in a circle, doing our Rocky boxing dance. We go around and around looking all the time to make a surprise attack or at least pretend things (in my specific case). We spent some time hanging around doing nothing, things started to stagnate, that's when the most surprising thing of all happened, the moment that defined the fight.

The boy was jumping awkwardly like a retard, messily waving his hands. He stepped forward, lifting one foot to improvise a kind of front kick. The movement I could detect and I reacted unexpectedly.

Simply with my hand, I struck at his leg, deflecting the kick. By doing that I made him unbalance, then counterattack with another kick. Unfortunately in my clumsiness the kick was misdirected, hitting my opponent in the ass. That counterattack did not have any specific effect, but it did launch a second improvised attack.

Instinctively I brought both of my hands forward against my opponent's chest. It was not a punch but a strong push, performed with both my hands and my body. That added to the fact that my opponent still had his foot up and was wobbling. That caused him to lose control and end up collapsing dramatically on the floor.

The boy fell to the floor and stood with his mouth up looking at me completely surprised, his breathing was rapid and ragged. In truth it had given him a real surprise, he had not expected that. For my part I remained standing, the movement I had managed to execute allowed me to land comfortably immediately to return without problems to my guard and that is how I stayed.

He was breathing rapidly with his heart in his neck, more from nervousness than exhaustion. I looked at the boy on the floor, I couldn't believe what had happened to me, I just couldn't believe it. He had shot down that boy in combat, the vanquished from the ground began to crawl backward. I looked at the other boys who looked at each other with expressions of doubt, I had not the slightest idea what was going to happen now.

The spectators began to look at each other as if meditating on what had happened, at that moment one said:

--- He won!...

Another mentioned the same:

--- It's true, he won...

--- Give him the sweater! --- said another behind me.

The boy who was holding the sweater walked over to where I was. Slowly he lifted the sweater he had brought with him and put it over my shoulder. That was a special act, it was when everything changed, what started as a fight ended in a ceremony of triumph. In a kind of coronation, the victor received the medal of victory, the reward of his triumph; after having passed the difficult task of winning, he received a prize; it was like a boxer receiving his belt for having won in combat; like an Olympic athlete receiving his medal, it was the ultimate victory.

As they put my sweater on, I felt the nervousness and tension end; being replaced by pride and joy. One of the boys approached me and taking me by the hand, raised it while saying:

--- The winner...

Everyone nodded approvingly, I raised my hand smiling with satisfaction. Everything was going wonderfully, he was accepted, he was the champion, he was invincible. I wore the sweater on my shoulder like Hercules wearing the Nemean Lion skin ... Yes! It was one of the best moments in my life.

In that, the group dissolved and the boys went walking in different directions. The show was over, there was already a winner, the show closed, everyone took different directions and left.

It was my first day of class and I had already won a fight, winning a sweater. Things couldn't go any better, he was starting on the right foot; I was starting to make a name for myself, I was on my way to being the leader of the group; The New King has arrived ... prepare to tremble under my power.

He was walking with pride, the crestfallen boy had disappeared; now he looked everywhere with his head held high, with authority. The group broke up and they all went in different directions, but that no longer mattered. I think I could even have lifted a girl, but the problem is that I was very young years that those kinds of things were not on my radar yet.

It looked like it was going to be a good day. It would have been so if it were not for the event that was going to violently change everything that was happening.

I was walking calmly with my sweater feeling very good when suddenly from the group in the background the black boy, my old opponent, advanced. He was jumping up and down and babbling, the thing happened so fast that I didn't even realize it, besides that the bastard took advantage of my moment of pride to set me up and attack me treacherously.

I was calm with my award when it came from behind. He stood in front of me and without a word threw a hook to the stomach, which was executed with extraordinary agility. E He took the air out of me, it was a perfect shot, I leaned forward, completely losing control of myself, and started to stumble. The damn giggled nervously, he reminded me of Hanna-Barbera's iconic character, Muttley, Dick Dastardly's sarcastic lieutenant. That character became legendary for his deep asthmatic laugh and his irreverent and sarcastic attitude. Being completely knocked out, he took the opportunity to take the sweater that I had on my shoulders to calmly take it off and put it on top.

He was at a complete disadvantage, he could be the victim of another attack now that he had received that heavy blow. The glory was over, the moment of triumph was over; he had been attacked, he had to seek refuge; protection of some kind but that was difficult. It was my first day so I had no friends, gang, or support of any kind.

The pain was strong, breathing was difficult, in truth they had taken all the air out of me. My eyes were moistened but I didn't have time to cry, I had to protect myself on the spot. I kept fidgeting with both hands on my stomach. I came to the space where I sat down and got ready to take a breath, to take a breath. The pain was strong, my eyes were wet, not only hit me in the stomach but also my pride.

Tears began to accumulate in my eyes, it was a sweetie, I had no one; I was alone, I was hurt, at that moment a thought arose in my laughing mind. That thought was "Don't cry", it was definitive, whatever happened I couldn't cry; I couldn't show weakness, that was bad, it made me look bad in front of others. At least the group I had been in dissolved, each one went elsewhere, so they did not witness my "downfall."

I started to take a deep breath to catch my breath. I secretly wiped my tears, because they could not notice my weakness. I started to take a deep breath to calm myself, so as not to lose my sanity, I continued at that the entire time. I wanted to cry, but no ... I had to control myself, secretly drying my tears and calming me down.

Little by little the thing worked, I was able to calm down and I did not cry. My ass had been kicked, but at least I accepted my defeat with dignity, without succumbing to pain and sadness. At that moment I saw the damn thing jumping and dancing like a fool; She had her sweater on her shoulders and she was dancing with happiness, again that dance typical of Mal de San Vito, that cunt of her mother. I wanted to get up, go up to him and punch him. To fight to get back my sweater was my rightful choice. But at that moment a feeling of fear, weakness, insecurity also invaded me, I was alone, I had no one, I could not throw myself just like that. Soon the feeling of weakness became stronger than that of revenge. So any retaliatory action turned into a mere adventurous fantasy.

So in the end I just ended up sitting up, rubbing my belly, feeling sorry for myself, while everyone else chatted and chatted animatedly. Right now I couldn't have fallen any lower, but hey it was just my first day at school, the damn thing left with his sweater, he kept my trophy.

I continued sitting for a while, deep in thought. Suddenly the bell rang, now it was my turn to go to class. I had to go find which room the class was for me, which group was I assigned to, another arduous and difficult task. Luckily I stood up, the pain had passed and my head down, I started to walk along with the other boys to go to my class.

[1] San Vito's disease - It is the translation from Spanish "El Mal de San Vito" it is the name given in Venezuela to "Huntington's Disease". At the end of the 20th century, this disease was widespread in the west of that country. Especially in the Zulia region. That made it highly visible in the Venezuelan media.