A Break Dancing Tragedy

is always tragic.

My friends and I were in Korea town in L.A. (K-town for short). We came from another break dancing competition a few blocks away. This event was the second one of the night, and I believed in a secure win. We felt it in our blood, as graphic as that may seem. The prize: $1000 split between five. Money is money.

When we arrived, we surveyed the competitors:
-a group of Asian, dwarf-sized kids
-a group with ONE SuperCr3w bboy
AND
-a group of Mexicans.

In my head, I thought in my most African American slang, "Damn, we got dis shiet."

ROUND 1
-Mexicans v. Dwarf kids-
The two groups stepped onto the linoleum. On my left were the geeky Asian dwarfs who probably had some very disappointed parents. On my right were the Mexicans, who looked like they had been breaking for a long time. The Mexican crew had really good moves. Those kids...well, they were beginners. But it's ok. As I watched them get on the mat, I already knew who was going to be the victor: Asian pride.

In no time at all, the music began to blast all those crazy beats. The crowd was bobbing their heads to the music. Excited Asians began to cheer and shout. A small kid wearing glasses and a skating helmet stepped onto the dance floor. He jumped around a little bit. I wouldn't call it dancing per se, but hey, whatever makes him happy. Although I must admit, his jumping was probably the best jumping I had seen in a while. He abruptly stopped and placed his head on the floor. This kid meant business. He was going to headspin those Mexicans out of there. He executed the move perfectly, and soon, his opponent stepped onto the floor.

[I don't even know how to describe how a person breakdances. It really is a visual thing. I could be technical and describe it this way: "He switched his legs. He then took his right hand, grabbed his left leg, and jumped over it with his right leg. Then he touched his crotch." Or I could simply say: "He did well."]

He did well.

Each crew took turns. I can't recall details of what happened after that first round. However, the last round I remember clearly. A fat guy was dancing. Don't doubt fat bboys. Some really got talent. Others should just stick to eating. He was doing headspins, windmills, and weird things with his body. I was quite entranced by his fat, which was emphasizing his movements.

[When one break dances, there is a certain structure you tend to follow. It's not set, but it's standard. You dance upright, hit the floor, and then pose or freeze. There is a particular freeze you may want to keep in mind, and that is the air chair.]Back to the story, the fat guy started dancing upright. He then hit the floor and was doing crazy things. I was watching him transition into his freeze, an air chair, when suddenly, his arm snapped in half. Parents were screaming and pushing their kids out of there, while people were rushing to his side. It was chaos. They called 911, and finally, the host settled everyone down. Here was a fat dude lying in the middle of the dance floor. However, we still had a competition to finish. The DJ started up the music once again. It was roasting time.

Round 2
-Our Crew v. Crew with ONE SuperCr3w bboy-
This crew was probably the one that worried us the most, especially since they were mainly comprised of Koreans. We didn't worry too much since they had the fat guy on their side of the dance floor. The other team went first, but having such a huge obstacle on the floor hindered their performance. The first guy tripped over the fat man. The second guy accidentally stepped on him. It was intense. Then it was my turn. As I stepped onto the dance floor, I couldn't stop staring at the fat man. I pitied him but not too much. Just enough to feel bad for a second. Then, I came up with a great idea.

I began toprocking to the music ever so aggressively. I hit the floor with crazy six-steps, three-steps, grapevines, russian kicks, and threads. People could feel the wind. I was inching closer to the fat man. I told myself, "I can do it." I got up and flipped over the fat man right into the opponents' faces. I smiled and quickly hit the ground once again. I started going backwards, again inching towards the huge mass on the dance floor. As I got closer, I quickly got on top of him. Here was my chance...
I focused all my energy on the next move...
I turned left then right... then...
BAM!

He wasn't such a detriment after all.


That sealed the deal. They were probably the hardest crew of the bunch, and we beat them. As we received our money, I walked over to the fat man, shook his hand, and said, "Thank you." We left content, with money in our pockets and an awesome bedtime story....thanks to the fat man.


Duck-E.

(Most of the content in this story is strictly made up. Any similarities between the characters and those you know are purely coincidental.)