Freddogg Off The Chain

“Where’s my bitches”? That line comes from the 1987 Robert Townsend cult classic “Hollywood Shuffle” embedded in that film, about the struggles on Black Actors in Hollywood, is a segment called "Attack of the Street Pimps” in which Zombie pimps take over a Ghetto neighborhood.

Back in the Spring of 1995 after the Cape Henlopen Lacrosse team had defeated Fort Meade to win it’s own four team tournament, I was sitting on the second row of the bleachers, my feet on the ground, waiting for my twin sons, who had spent four minutes of the game in the penalty box, mostly for cross checking and unnecessary roughness.

I looked up and there was this mother and her high school daughter adorned in ball cap and straight blond hair—a lax cutie—and some young stud with his visor turned upside down gripping and twisting on his stick in a preppy message of menace.

‘What is your name, ”the woman demanded of me? Now I am the nicest person and not confrontational and I respect women and mothers BUT I hate when someone doesn’t introduce themselves and demands to know my name.

‘What is this about,” I asked?
‘I want to know why you called my daughter a Bitch?”

Young boy tightened the grip on his short stick. The girl got a huffy bitchy look. Mom kept waiting for my answer.

Back to the game where reporter, sports dad, and teacher man, was standing behind the scorers table. Fort Meade was getting beat down and they didn’t like it. This young girl was their manager and all around expert and was continually criticizing the home girls at the scorers table like they had no idea what they were doing. By the way both those girls today are successful lawyers as opposed to disbarred dirt bags of the Western World.

I leaned over to “My girls” just to ease their ‘unnervousness’ and said “I guess this is a BYOB tournament? They looked back quizzically and I whispered ‘Bring Your Own Bitch!”

Now Miss Lacrosse cutie with hyperkinetic tendencies heard me like a rabbit dog on a chirping baby hare but the comment was not made for her to hear. I would never call a high school girl a Bitch to her face I have way too much class and sense for that.

“I never spoke to your daughter or let out an audible Bitch in the Box, ”I told the mother. I am Dave Frederick and here are the places I work and my supervisors and by the way also mention my name to your head coach who knows me. Tell them all that the Dave Frederick they know had transformed into calling high school girls bitches.”

Lax boy was getting brave like he was considering taking an unnecessary roughness penalty. “Big man, calling a high school girl a Bitch!”

Now the girl was a straight up Bitch and so was her mother and they needed to be called out but ain’t that the way with Bitches, we always give them wide berth so they continue throughout life to Bitch their way around watching others back off.
I decided conciliation had gone far enough and just focused on the young man who was strappingly fit and in his early twenties.

“As for you, faggot lacrosse catalogue Brine action wear white boy, I’m getting tired of looking at you gripping that stick, excuse me STX, and staring at me, so either swing it or take your recent loss and goofy assed visor and head back across the Bay Bridge.”

I am not afraid to fight and not afraid to get hit and I don’t mind losing what mostly scares me is winning too convincingly like “How did he manage to wrap that titanium shaft around the guy's neck three times?”

Nothing ever came of the incident because no one who knew me including the Meade Coach could believe I had sunken to outing high school Lax Bitches.

Be careful with your commentaries and be slick with your revelations.

Here’s barking at you kid!

Dr. Freddog



http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0093200/trailers-screenplay-E16005-10-2