Let's Get It On!_ The Making of MMA and Its Ultimate Referee - Big John Mccarthy [39]
Previously, there’d also been some choke-related deaths when officers had tried to apprehend suspects who were on PCP. The drug was especially popular in South Central Los Angeles at the time, and users were typically easy to spot, often found talking to someone they alone could hear and naked because they felt like they were burning up. They weren’t able to engage in rational conversation, and any stimulus could set them off. They didn’t feel pain and seemed to have superhuman strength, which made it difficult for officers to control them. They wouldn’t quit fighting or attempting to flee.
During struggles with officers, some suspects’ tracheas were crushed, although I believe it had more to do with the execution of the technique than its appropriateness. Still, many on the force questioned why an officer would attempt to use a choke hold on a suspect who was trying to cause him serious bodily harm when it would probably be much more effective to shoot the aggressor instead.
I thought this way of thinking was ridiculous and went looking for my own answers. What I discovered was that Sgt. Greg Dossey, who had once run the PT Self-Defense Unit, had studied and categorized the instances of use of force within the LAPD in 1988 and again in 1992. Both years, he determined that two-thirds of the altercations had ended on the ground with the officer applying a joint lock and handcuffing the suspect. I thought Dossey’s research could point us all in the right direction. If so many altercations ended on the ground, why weren’t we focusing on training officers there?
At the time, my knowledge of ground tactics was minimal. I’d wrestled and boxed, but my best friend, Joe Hamilton, also an officer, had studied karate and judo. Joe, a few other officers, and I exercised together regularly. During one workout, Joe mentioned some South American brothers who had their own ground art he thought I’d love. Joe couldn’t remember the family’s name, but I’d later come to know them as the Gracies.
I didn’t seek out the Gracies, but we all found each other eventually. In the wake of the Rodney King incident and the riots, the LAPD organized a Civilian Martial Arts Advisory Panel led by Sgt. Dossey, to come up with new tactics an officer could use in apprehending a violent suspect. Because I had a great interest in combat sports, I was asked to join to represent the police force. Aside from me, the panel included a who’s who of martial arts figures in Southern California, from kickboxer Benny “The Jet” Urquidez to judo expert Gene LeBell to the determined-looking Brazilian jiu-jitsu black belt Rorion Gracie.
The panel, which started meeting about once a week, was a mess from the get-go. There was no way these practitioners, all experts in their chosen arts, would agree on doing something one way. Each one thought his art was superior to the other’s.
For the first few meetings, I sat quietly and watched them demonstrate their disciplines on dummies or assistants they’d brought. They’d throw the dummies around or subdue the assistants, and I have to admit they all looked great doing it.
However, it wasn’t realistic to think what they were demonstrating could be used by an officer on the street. After a few meetings, I decided to speak up. “I mean no disrespect, but your techniques work on your subjects because they’re letting you do it. On the streets, a suspect will put up a fight. They’re not just going to let you do it.”
The expert du jour said, “Do you want to come try being my subject?”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I said, “but I’m not going to just stand there.”
The martial artist, who’d incidentally been on the cover of Black Belt magazine a few times, went to grab me, and I took him down, sat on his chest, and trapped his arm around his neck. I’m not sure what overcame