A Lesson In Snooker … SEAL Style!

JD, Jimmy Stiles, and two other new BUD/S graduates caught a cab to a local beer and snooker joint for some well-deserved R&R. After a few beers, the recounting of memorable moments in their training got a little loud. Their boisterous attitude rubbed a few local boys the wrong way. It did not help that the ladies present began showing more interest in the young SEALs than in them.

Wayne Morrison liked starting trouble so he could watch the fights that usually ensued. He reached over and poked Junior Willis in the ribs. “Hey Junior, you going to let those Navy boys steal our women?” he asked. Junior stood about 6′ 7” and weighed about 300 lb. He was usually easy-going, but tonight he’d consumed enough beer to override the good sense he prided himself on having.

“No fucking way,” he replied. Junior paused the snooker he was playing with his friend, Gordy. “Back in a minute, Gordy.” Junior headed toward the table where the group were still laughing and having a good time. Because of his Asian looks and slighter build, Junior homed in on JD.

“Hey, Shithead! What the fuck do you assholes think you’re doing here? You Navy boys piss me … trying to steal our women.”

“Hey man. We’re just having a good time and drinking a few beers. Why don’t you go back to your snooker game.” Jimmy and the other SEALs pushed their chairs back, turning to get a better look. This promised to be interesting.

“Fuck that!” Junior growled. “I’m going to kick your scrawny little chink ass!” JD stood.

“Don’t hurt him, JD” one of the SEALs advised with a grin.

JD moved away from the table, hands open to show he wanted no trouble.

“Listen, dude. My scrawny little chink ass is drinking a few more beers and then it is going back to the base. How about I buy you a beer and we call it even?”

Junior Willis seemed to weigh this idea for a few seconds. His response came in the form of a huge right fist swung at JD’s head. JD slipped the punch. His right foot kicked out, the toe catching Junior midway up his inner right thigh. The kick did not stop there. JD’s heel smashed into the same spot on the other thigh. Junior let out a surprised grunt. He teetered there for a long second, his two legs splayed out at awkward angles, off-balance and unable to move. JD reached up and shoved against Junior’s sternum, setting him back down on the floor.

Junior’s snooker partner had moved closer to get a better view of the fight. Seeing his friend taken down so easily angered him. Gordy yelled as he swung his pool stick down at JD’s head. JD stepped inside the swing. Both hands met the pool stick, trapping Gordy’s hands on the stick in vise-like grips. JD circled the stick around, giving it a sharp powerful twist. Gordy felt his wrists turned back against themselves. Stepping back, JD gave a sharp tug that left him in possession of the pool stick. Reversing the tug, JD gave Gordy a solid poke in the chest. It rocked Gordy back on his heels. JD shifted his grip on the pool stick, presenting it to its former owner.

“Want to try again?” Gordy was thunderstruck.

“Hell no!” came the reply. The bar was silent. JD set the pool stick down and walked over to where Junior was still sitting on the floor. Reaching down, JD held out his hand.

“Buy you a beer now?” JD asked smiling.

Junior Willis looked up at JD in disbelief. Suddenly, he grinned. “Why the fuck not!” He took JD’s offered hand and was helped up off the floor. “That was some pretty slick shit you just pulled.”

JD laughed. “Yep. Pretty slick chink shit.”

“Where did you learn that stuff?” Junior asked.

“My mother taught me!” JD replied slapping Junior on the back as they headed toward the bar.