Chapter 4 - A captivating insight into Andre's world and a spectacular Saturday, a day filled with surprises.
I woke up after a wonderful night's sleep and felt my body when I got out of bed. Everywhere felt a little sore and sensitive, especially my neck muscles hurt a little. It was obviously the result of yesterday's hard workout. The first kickboxing class was a great success, and I couldn't wait for the second class, which was scheduled for next Friday at 7 p.m. It was a great success.
Andre had informed me that he was available this month and would come alone or with a "helper." Starting in December, however, there would be six weeks of hard training before his match against Thai fighter Somkuan. Andre said he wanted to teach Somkuan a lesson by kicking his ass and then take the world title in April. He was then scheduled to fight Howard Jackson in Amsterdam.
Today I was going with my father to Tina in Amsterdam, the owner of the Matsuru store, to buy some Budo stuff. I wanted to buy boxing gloves, shin guards, a bit and a tok. If they had "Muay Thai shorts," I would want to buy that too, it looked cool and I would need it in the near future anyway.
Once I arrived at the budo store, I quickly finished buying the stuff I needed. Tina was interested in the sport and my dad started talking about Jan Plas, Mejiro gym and starting kickboxing at his gym. Tina listened intently and then began to tell her story. She knew all the names my father mentioned because, after all, she ran a martial arts store and was a true Amsterdam native. "You know who they hang out with," she said, and "Andre is well known in the milieu."
After half an hour of listening to stories about Andre, we sat in the car back home and talked about it. I learned that he was a bit "pleasantly disturbed" and that many people shied away from him. I had read some articles about the Amsterdam underworld and Andre, and I had also gotten some information from the magazine's Zendokan and Samurai about the kickboxers and their connections. I wasn't sure what my father thought about everything, but I thought it was all pretty exciting and it did attract me. In a short time I had discovered that Andre was a good judoka and had been on the Dutch karate team. He was also a great kickboxer and at this time he was the bodyguard of Klaas Bruinsma, nicknamed "The Reverend," the biggest underworld boss of the moment.
In addition to working for Bruinsma, Andre also did collection work for himself and was a doorman. I thought to myself: What a life full of busyness and excitement, and then also training a lot to fight. For me, the link between kickboxing and the underworld was quickly made, but I had already discovered that at the first gala I had attended.
It was already Friday and almost time for the second kickboxing class. Last night I had been in touch with some of my friends and most of them liked it, but didn't really want to do anything with it. Petertje, John, Pietje, Mariet and Lisa really liked it though and were going to come too. Those were two girls and three boys from our group, and even more fun, one of them was my friend. Andre was already there and he had brought someone with him, Rudy. Later I learned that he had been in the competition group at Mejiro gym for a few years. "Hey weirdo," Andre said to me. "Hi hi, little weirdo," I replied and immediately I got a quick one to my solar plexus. "Oeshhh" I thought to myself. That hurt, I can tell you.
"I brought Ruudje," he said in flat Amsterdamian. "My friend, he'll take over if I have to train harder next month." "Okidoki," I said and shook Rudy's hand. "He'll come, and if Milo can, Milo will come too." "Is good, as long as someone is there," I replied. Meanwhile, more and more people were pouring in, and it seemed to be even busier than on Wednesday. I thought to myself that it would be fitting and measuring on the mat. We sat neatly in a row in seiza, with our faces toward Sensei Andre and his assistant Rudy. We greeted our sensei with "USH" and Andre began to count. "There are forty of us," he said.
"We have a sizeable group today, maybe we should split up next week," Andre said and immediately after that he called out, "Run, right turn!" I immediately took the lead, got up quickly and began the warm up. Time flew by and it was another wonderful hour. Later I agreed with Andre to extend Wednesday and Friday classes from one to two hours. The classes would then be held from 7:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. and from 8:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m., respectively. The group of forty was simply too large for the 120m2 mat.
After a few weeks, it was the end of November and the crowds at the gym continued. Free kickboxing month was over and starting in December, new members could sign up and pay quarterly. As with all budo sports at the gym, there was a system of free trial classes and a trial month prior to membership. Required equipment, such as gloves and shin guards, could be borrowed from the gym during the trial month. At the end of the trial month, new members could decide if they wanted to continue and become members. As a member, one was required to purchase all supplies to join the training.
During the training sessions, it was noticeable that the groups could easily be divided into fanatics and recreational members. The fanatical boys and girls had a mentality of not giving up and just keeping going, and were real bullies. The classes were at times not easy and quite tough. On two days, there were two hours of consecutive workouts, with 15 minutes of rest in between. Recreational and new members trained from 6:30 p.m. to 7:30 p.m., while those who wanted to train harder and prepare for competitions trained from 7:45 p.m. to 9 p.m. This information was also mentioned in the new advertisement in the local newspapers.
The start of the kickboxing classes was successful, thanks in part to the well known kickboxers who conducted the classes. Andre was the sensei and he was occasionally assisted by Rudy or Milo. If Andre was unable to attend, the other two greats could always step in.
On the first Saturday of the month I had picked up Lisa. She turned out to be as much of a brawler as she was on the soccer field, a real tiger in the gym. We planned to go with a large group to the neighboring village, to the blue jacket meeting center. Two months ago a few of our boys had been harassed at the fair and now it was time to set the record straight. Sometimes you have to look for excitement, especially since we still hadn't heard from the Haarlemmers.
Around 2 p.m. we arrived at the "Welcome Inn" the afternoon box where those guests always met. There were many of us, some on bikes because they had no transportation, others by bus and there were two cars with the somewhat older people. We had agreed to meet at the schoolyard of the local high school, about five hundred meters from "Welcome Inn. There was also a large storage area where we could park our bikes and mopeds, all locked of course. We then walked with a group of about fifty men and ten women toward the blue coat gang's tent, ready to checkout.
We had nothing with us, as had always been agreed between our villages. There would be fair hand to hand combat. When we arrived at the building, we saw only two bicycles and it seemed that the store was closed. I got the feeling that they had been tipped off; perhaps we had a mole among us in the group. I looked around a little skittishly and behind me, you never knew if a moron was hanging around your neck. Jack, Edwin and Ronnie walked toward the door, while I and a group of eight walked right behind it. The remaining forty remained at a distance of twenty meters. "The door is open," Jack said and stepped inside at the same time, followed by my group. The rest remained outside. From the hallway, we walked to the back where the meeting room and bar were.
As we entered the meeting room, our attention was caught by three men in blue coats sitting at the bar. Before any words could be exchanged, Edwin boldly stepped forward and gave the man a poke in the ribs and a shove. This man happened to be one of the infamous brothers from a family of four. A red haired man with an imposing stature questioned the intentions and asked us if we thought we were tough just because they were so numerous. Jack's anger flared at the remark, causing him to retort fiercely, "Shut your mouth!" He walked up him and stood in front of his face now. Ronnie watched the second man who was trying to escape from the room. The third man grabbed his jacket and wanted also to leave the space. I jumped on him and landed on the ground with him. "Stop!" I heard Edwin say. "Let's stop, guys."
We made the boy stand up and placed them side by side against the wall. "This is what you guys were owed from the fair," I said. "It wasn't too bad, was it? They remained silent and stared at the ground, but I had a feeling they appreciated us stopping. It was enough for now. "But it's not over yet," Edwin continued. Next Thursday, five days from now, there's shopping night at your place. We will come to the parking lot of the shopping center 'The Blockhouse' at 7:30. We will see each other there." The boys looked at us confused.
I stepped forward and stood next to Edwin. "Did you get it?" I asked the red haired boy. "Repeat after me." "Yes, you are coming to The Block House on Thursday night at 7:30," he replied. "Good," I said, "Tell your friends, because it's going to be fun." The boy looked at me like I had a big mouth, but I could see he was shaking with fear. "Let's go," Jack said. I also thought enough was enough, but I walked forward to the tall redhead. "Bunch of cakewalkers." We walked outside, where most were still standing and hadn't noticed anything that had happened. They would find out later today. On to the stall and to Time Out, our clubhouse.
Time Out was pleasantly busy that evening and almost everyone was present. The visit to 'Welcome Inn' in the nearby village was, of course, the talk of the day. At one point I was called aside by Edwin and Jack and the three of us sat down at a little table in the back. You learn fast from the Pitbull." I didn't understand the comment until I saw that they were grinning and meant that I, like Andre Brilleman, had a tough and determined approach. "You did great, man," Jack said, "we didn't expect that from you." "We're proud of you," said Edwin.
I nodded in agreement and felt proud. I was only seventeen and had expected to get smacked upside the head by the two who were six years older, but instead I got compliments. Jack gave me a firm slap on the shoulder and Edwin a pat on the back of my head. I looked at them in surprise, but decided to let it wash over me. "You're a topper," Edwin said and they started laughing. "Bunch of lunatics," I still thought to myself, but we took another drink and I joined the others in the main hall.
We had a good time that night, there was some drinking, we played Pacman on the computer, played pinball a little and of course flirted with our friends and other girls. We celebrated the meeting this afternoon and looked forward to the confrontation on Thursday, we were excited. I was standing pleasantly talking with Petertje, Bertje and my girlfriend Lisa when suddenly something landed on my head, it hurt and I was surprised. I remained standing and felt at the back of my head, I saw that it was bleeding a little. Petertje quickly told me what he had seen and that Chris had thrown a marble at me.
I turned around and saw Chris laughing about eight feet away. Chris was different from the others and was always trying to push the limit with his weird antics. "Damn it," I yelled. Lisa still tried to stop me, but I ran toward Chris. "Why do you do that, you pathetic wretch?" I gave him a little slap in the face with my flat hand and said, "Never do it again. If you do it again, I'll beat the hell out of you."
In the frenzy that followed, Jack and Edwin entered the main hall and were informed by Peter. Peter walked up to them, leaving Chris with a dismayed face. "If he does it again, I'll beat him up," I yelled loudly as I ran to the small bar to get a band aid. Jack and Edwin, meanwhile, had taken care of Chris and told him that this was the last time. If he pulled another such nauseating prank, he would be denied access to Time Out. He had received his final warning.
After Chris apologized to me and I warned him of a beating next time, he went home. We decided to go to "Magnum" on foot and leave our mopeds behind. We would pick them up later in the evening because Time Out was open until five in the morning and there were enough people there to keep an eye on them. We walked through the park toward the main street, which opened onto the square. At the end of the park there was a large cargo bike that was unlocked.
Jantje immediately climbed on it and a couple of boys jumped into the cargo box with him. It was funny to see. At the main street, there were still five boys in the cargo bike and another five walking beside it. I said to Peter, "When we get to that turn, we're going to push." Peter nodded and said, "That's going to be a laugh, he's going to fall over." It was about ten meters before the turn, there was an electronics store located there where you could buy stereos. We started pushing and running, Jantje lost control of the heavy cargo bike and steered straight for the big window of the store. "Tinkle tinkle" it went. The cargo bike drove right through the window.
We were having an awful lot of fun. We were all dancing and singing in the store, while the cargo bike was on its side and the alarm went off loudly among the Sony and Pioneer stereo towers, big speaker boxes and expensive amplifiers. Eventually we all stood outside waiting for the alarm to stop and the flashing lights to go out. Suddenly we saw a police van approaching. Two officers got out and asked what was going on. I answered without thinking that we heard the alarm from the park, were on our way to "Magnum" and upon arrival saw the window broken and a cargo bike inside.
The officers consulted for a moment and decided that the alarm should be turned off. Jantje suggested that they park the police van next to the store so that an officer could pull the lamp off the wall. It got quiet, the alarm stopped and the flashing lights went out. We continued our way to the disco and had another good time. At home, I rewound the events of that day. It had been a great day.
I woke up late with a pounding headache. Quickly I put on my tracksuit and sneakers, washed my face with cold water and ran to the gym. Luckily I was just in time, the group was still there and it was exactly nine o'clock. My father looked at me sullenly and asked why I couldn't get out of bed earlier. I replied that I was there and we set off with three cars and twelve people. Although I didn't actually have the zest or energy to run, I kept the appointment. My father had taught me that "a man in the evening is also a man in the morning," so I didn't whine. On the way, I quickly changed my soggy band aid and told them I had hit my head. After the dune run, I still had a headache, but after a hot shower and some sandwiches, the pain was suddenly gone.
In the afternoon, I went with my friend to walk the dog in the woods and then we watched sport on the TV at home while enjoying the delicious chicken satay with fries that my mother in law always made. It tasted excellent while we watched soccer on television. After spending some time in the hallway with my friend, I went home and realized that the week was over again. I went to bed early and thought to myself, "tomorrow is another day."
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