This Way, Maybe They Have Fighting Chance

You wouldn’t think it to look at him--or study his record--but Mike Garrett says there was a guy in the old neighborhood twice as good as he was.

Now we’re talking here about a guy who won USC’s first Heisman, ran for 3,221 yards and 30 touchdowns in his college career and led the Kansas City Chiefs to two Super Bowls in his professional career. We’re talking super runner, super athlete. Hall of Fame stuff.

But when Mike was growing up, there was this other guy who was not only better, he was bigger, faster, stronger. He was Mike’s idol is what he was. Mike used to go see him play all the time when he was a kid.

So what happened to this all-star?

Well, it’s a long, sad but familiar story. First, gangs. Then, drugs, booze, the fast lane, the easy way. It all ended in blood and death on the highway in his 30th year. A waste.

Mike got a real close-up view of it. His idol was his brother John.

The sequel is equally depressing.

Only the other day, in the Aliso projects, the story came out about another innocent victim of a drive-by gang shooting. A young, pregnant woman left her apartment to visit a friend. There was a crash of gunfire. She was in the middle of it. The young mother and unborn child were instantly slain.

She was John’s daughter, carrying his grandchild.

The violence is rolling down the generations. The new slaughter of the innocents. It is senseless carnage.

You go out for a loaf of bread, you end up with a sheet on your head and a tag on your toe. It is worse than war. In a war, you get a helmet and a gun. You know the enemy.

Here, you are just a target. You don’t even get a blindfold and a last cigarette. You don’t even get to say goodby. No man’s land has traffic lights on it.

Our young have become more dangerous than the animals in the field. Lions are in the streets. The pioneers could at least circle the wagons. We can only put bars on the windows. Or move to Barstow.

The headlines are terrifying:

--”High School Football Turns to Fear Amid Gunfire.”

--”Drive-by Shotgun Blast Wounds 5 in Moorpark.”

The city as hostage. Football games that once drew sellouts, 7,000 or more, play to a corporal’s guard. We are afraid of our young. “The Lord of the Flies” has come true.

Mike Garrett is as heartsick as the rest of the community. He has lost a brother and now a niece and grandniece to the madness. He yearns to do something about it. Somebody has to. It’s high noon on Main Street, USA.

“It’s only 5% of the population,” mourns Mike. “Unfortunately, it’s the 5% with the guns. Ninety-five percent of the kids are good, law-abiding, studious.”

It is a truism of our society that 5% outnumber 95% if the 5% is armed and dangerous. Just ask the Germans. A minority plus a Luger equals a dictatorship.

“We belonged to gangs when I was a kid in East L.A., too,” admits Garrett. “But when we had disagreements, we duked it out. These kids today are cowards. They kill from behind hedges, from passing cars. They’re really afraid to fight.

“Only a sissy would carry a knife when we were growing up. You wouldn’t shoot a guy through a car window where you might hit a baby carriage. You’d go up and say, ‘Hey! I hear you’re looking for me. Well, here I am! What are you going to do about it?’

“These kids are the alienated ones. They’re not good at athletics. And they’re not good at schoolwork. They can’t read. And they can’t play. So they put this headband around their heads and they say ‘Hey! I’m somebody! I’m a Crip!’ They’ve got their identity, and God help society. Society is scared to death of them. The problem in East L.A. is territorial. The problem in South Central is drug-related. The problem everywhere is communication.”

It’s hard to see a punch in the jaw as a method of meaningful communication, but Mike Garrett thinks it’s a start.

“Look!” he says. “You don’t bring a switch-blade knife or an Uzi into the ring with you. You just bring the things God gave you. You bring courage, speed, intelligence. You learn respect for an opponent.

“How many times do you see two guys whomp each other all night long, then fall into each others’ arms when the bell rings? Prizefighters are usually God’s humblest creatures. They know somebody is just as tough as they are and they have the lumps to prove it.

“What we have to do is refocus some of this energy, re-prioritize their directions. We want them to work out this aggression in more socially acceptable ways--in the gym. We want them to learn to like themselves.

“The biggest problem of the ghetto is low self-esteem, the need to be part of a group. You know, we had gangs. But I formed some fast friendships with my fists. Even when I lost. Maybe especially when I lost.”

Garrett, holder of a law degree, graduate in sociology, does not hold that pugilism is the answer to all society’s ills.

“But it’s better than militarism,” he says. “You’re not talking about kids here who would go join the glee club or try out for the school operetta or go pick strawberries. We’re not talking about candidates for the debating society. These guys don’t handle group settings very well. You have to deal with what they do handle well.”

With that in view, Garrett, as director of Forum boxing for Jerry Buss, and with Buss’ blessing, is forming a partnership with the Ramona Gardens Civil Youth Authority and Gang Violence Reduction Program whereby, at Mike’s behest, 50% of the proceeds of the World Boxing Assn.’s Dec. 11 junior-featherweight title fight between Juan Jose (Dinamita) Estrada and Jesus Salud will go to youth work in the barrio.

“It’s not the whole answer, it’s a start,” Mike concedes. “It’s got to start somewhere.”

The Garrett family has suffered enough from gang violence. So has the community. Unless something is done, L.A. is going to end up getting shot through the heart--from a car window.