My momma always told me ‘the only way to win a fight is to run’ she always used to say here martin is the best kid in the neighborhood but my momma ain’t here no more she was sent to the hospital bed. I live with my auntie now we didn’t grow up rich we were a lower middle class, i never got into fights but there were really close ones i remember one time i pissed off a white kid because  i wanted to play baseball and he said ain’t no darkies on our team so i threw my glove never got it back, that boy is marco cress,the mean kid. And so after that they gave me the nickname chicken boy since they don’t let ‘darkies’ play baseball i go to the alley down at 13th street you can see the stadium though the fence and i bring my bat. I was swinging my bat one day and marco and his gang was there “well,well,well looky what we found here” all the boys started to chuckle he then walked up to me and grabbed the bat out of my hands he then said “i like it… it’s mine now chicken” and started to walk away i was fuming i walked towards him and that walk turned into a run i tackled him to the ground and kept punching and punching till he was bruised badly until i felt a tug on my collar and next thing i know i was in handcuffs “uh-oh”