Random Memories of Central Catholic

There was a tradition at Central Catholic. After lunch period, the entire class would walk around the quadrangle for 10 minutes or so.  This was a mandatory activity and similar to when convicts get yard time to stretch their legs.  The quadrangle was located behind the main school building and was the equivalent of 120 meters in circumference.  I would typically stroll around with a classmate or a group discussing sports or making small talk.  Most of the time it was uneventful and routine.  But there was one day when the mundane tradition was ruptured by a short, nasty confrontation between Chris Kurpeikis and John or Mike Cheeseborough.  The fight between these two happened either sophomore or junior year.

Kurpeikis was a football player and a huge guy.  He was 6’5” and 275 lbs.  Chris played offensive line and would receive as scholarship to Notre Dame.  He wore glasses and had his blond hair buzzed short on the sides.  While he was physically a massive presence, his facial features and countenance made him look like an overgrown six- year-old.    I did not know Chris at all, but from my brief interactions with him, he came off like kind of a dickhead.  I was about twenty feet away.  While we were walking the quadrangle, there was a quick, heated exchange between Kurpeikis and one of the Cheeseborough brothers. They were by the stairs at the back entrance of the building.  Since the Cheeseboroughs were twins I could not tell you if it was Mike or John.  The Cheeseboroughs were quite different from Chris from my experience.  I had the impression that they were generally decent, amicable guys quick to smile and get along.  They were exceptional athletes but did not carry themselves with the kind of off-putting arrogance that can be typical of high school jocks.

I would love to know what was said. All of a sudden, Chris Kurpeikis draws back and punches Cheeseborough with a huge right hand.  I heard the impact of the punch and I saw Cheeseborough’s head twist violently to the side.  The Cheeseboroughs were about 6’0 and weighed no more than 160 pounds.  They were built like Greyhounds, while Kurpeikis was a Bull Mastiff.  To Cheeseborough’s credit he took that howitzer from Kurpeikis and came back with a straight, solid punch that landed flush on Kurpeikis’s big head.  The exchange only lasted maybe 15 seconds before our old school prefect Mr. Wheeler jumped in and separated them.  I think everyone had big respect for Cheeseborough for throwing down with Kurpeikis.  I know I did!  He got the worst of it, no doubt, but he did not back down at all and got his licks in.

I never got into a fight a Central.  The best reason I can come up with was that I was not particularly confrontational.  I was big enough that potential goons did not see me as an easy target.  There is also an energy or an aura that people give off.  It can be as simple as the way you walk and the expression on your face.  As much of a loser as I had allowed myself to become, I never would have carried myself as a potential victim.   The closest I came to a scrap was sophomore year during gym class.  We were playing floor hockey.  This thick set, tough looking Italian kid hacks me with his hockey stick over my hands.  God damn, did it hurt.  Instinctively I returned the gesture with interest.  Then Rocky Balboa decides to drop his stick.  I do not profess to know much about hockey, but when someone drops their stick, its a challenge to fight.  Without even thinking about it, I tossed my stick aside and took two steps towards him.  I was nervous as hell, but it was one of those moments where if you back off you completely lose face.  I didn’t have much going for me at this point, but I was NOT going to punk out.

We go nose to nose and he tells me he’s gonna kick my ass.  He looked like a wrestler or a football player.  I was not very familiar with him.  I replied, “Let’s do it.”  Short, succinct, and to the point.  Rocco (staying with a variation on the Rocky theme), appeared slightly taken by surprise.  He backed off ever so slightly but continued with his promises of bodily harm.  I held my hands up to say, “I’m right here tough guy.”  I was scared but committed.  I kept a good enough poker face to gain what felt like was a slight psychological edge.  While I was fairly passive during my time at Central, I had a real edge if you pushed hard enough.  This was one of those moments.

The next day arrived and I was not looking forward to our next encounter.  We crossed paths in gym class again.  To his credit, he walked up to me, put out his hand and said, “Hey, are we cool?”  We slapped five and I shook my head in the affirmative to indicate that it was all water under the bridge.  I was relieved.  He would have been a real handful.  What made Bruno Sanmartino offer the olive branch of peace?  If I had to speculate, I would say this was one of the few occasions where my unibrow was a real asset.  He probably sized me up and thought to himself, “This Cro-magnon has one giant eyebrow….what kind of Neanderthal am I dealing with?!”  Thanks unibrow! I combed through a Central Catholic yearbook and was able to put a name to the face of my gym class nemesis:  Anthony Capazzoli and of course he was on the football team.