The Peter McNeeley Incident

I'll preface this by saying that regardless of how much of a pathetic loser Peter  "Hurricane" McNeeley is, he DID get in the ring with Mike Tyson in 1995, shortly after Tyson was released from prison.

Keep that in mind as you read through this, especially if you aren't familiar with Peter McNeeley. Now the Medfield, MA native DID get knocked down twice in the first round before his trainer stopped the fight. (Side note, he didn't throw in the towel, he actually JUMPED INTO the ring to stop the fight to pretty much keep his guy from getting literally killed!)

Every one of those in the crowd and the millions of idiots who paid $60 to watch Tyson's first fight out of the slammer, (including myself) knew that if the fight continued, he would have wound up like Apollo Creed in his fight against Ivan Drago...but he spent a couple minutes in a boxing ring with Mike freaking Tyson, so that at LEAST says a little something. Prior to the fight, McNeeley famously quoted that he was going to wrap Tyson in a "cocoon of horror."  The event was a joke, but the dude was actually NOT a terrible heavyweight boxer.  I don't follow boxing.  I think it's stupid, and the fights are rigged and it seems like it would have been cool to watch back in the day of Ali and Foreman and Joe Louis and Rocky Marciano, for a variety of reasons.  Today I'd rather watch MMA fights or Ultimate Fighting.  Now those dudes are badass.  There are some legit ass whoopings in those octagons, but I'm getting off topic.  "The Hurricane" had a decent record over his career, 47-7 with 36 KO's.  Not bad right?  He fought a bunch of shitty boxers for the most part.  Still, he participated in 54 total professional career fights between 1991 and 2006. So he made a chunk of change, which he could have still been living off of to this day.  The only problem is the dude is as dumb as a box of hammers. Trust me when I tell you that McNeeley being half a retard will be the main running theme of this entry.

In 1995, he was arrested and charged with assault and battery with a dangerous weapon.  He got in a barfight...ok, whatever.  Some tough guy in Roxbury, MA was probably talking some shit, big Pete probably got sloshed and whatever....who cares.  His epic criminal career gets much better.  In March, 2006, McNeeley punched a guy in the face in Norwood, MA, where he lives, and stole $200 from his wallet.  He had to go to court charged with A&B because he stole $200.  Now in my mind, there's only ONE reason a person would risk going to jail for a quick $200, and that's drugs.  Let's call a spade a spade here, right?

A few short months later in June of the same year, McNeeley was arrested for driving....you ready for this shit?....a getaway car used in a robbery of a Walgreens in Stoughton, MA.  The police found $180....ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY DOLLARS!!!!!.....and a black fanny pack that had been stolen off the shelf from the store.  I am NOT making this shit up, I've seen the court records.  Hey Pete, next time you need drug money THAT bad, just ask somebody.  You're an embarrassment...you fought Tyson for chrissakes, now you're knocking off Walgreens for $180 bucks and stealing a couple hondos off a guy probably an eighth your size...unbelievable.  I actually had court on the same day as him in Dedham, no lie.  I don't remember what I was there for, but it was pretty hilarious to listen to this idiot try to explain himself.  Any of you out there who know me, if I ever get that desperate and pathetic, just end me.

This all leads up to my real life confrontation with this lunatic.

So my buddy B-Ride used to have this Ford Mustang, the early 2000 body style, which looked cool at the time, but not like the newer ones. We were driving down route 1, in Norwood, MA, McNeeley's "stomping grounds,"  (I just hurt a rib laughing so hard).  A tan, late 80's model Nissan Sentra pulls up next to B-Ride's brand new 2005 Mustang.  We had the top down and were just driving home and I must have made some kind of face towards this eyesore of a vehicle at a red light.

The speedy little go-cart proceeded to attempt to race us.  We could have easily driven away, but now we were intrigued.  What was this idiot doing, we thought?  We pulled up to a red light and the male driver was now screaming obscenities at us like they were the only words we knew.  I looked at B-Ride and we just laughed.  "Is this fucking guy kidding me?" I asked him.

"See what he wants."  My friend pulled up to him so that I was a few feet away, his car to the right of ours and I saw what could only be described as a cross between a juiced up muscle head and a skinny little crackhead with bad skin, greasy hair, and snaggly-assed teeth.  Try to picture that in your head for a minute.  His entire appearance was a contradiction to physics.  There was a "lady" in the passenger seat too.  Undoubtedly the most inexpensive hooker in the northeast.  I put my hands up as if to say, "can I help you?"

He continued yelling, though he forget that he had rolled his window up, apparently, so I put my hand up to my ear, and then made the universal sign for "roll your window down" with my right hand.  Without missing a beat, he rolled down the window.  The funny thing about this is that he actually had to roll down the window in the manner with which you'd "sign" to roll your window down, haha!  That's how old and beat up this car was.  Old and beat up was a good description for this clown too.  Fitting, I suppose.

"Can I help you kind sir?"  I asked him.
"Why the fuck did you flip me off?"
"When?"
"Back there!!!"
"Don't recall that bud, you sure it wasn't somebody else?"

This seemed to infuriate him even further, but by this point the light was green, and we were off.  Our angry friend wasn't letting us off that easily though.  He pulled ahead of us, using all 50 horsepower in his Nissan, black smoke pouring out of his tailpipe.  Suddenly, he slammed his brakes and boxed us in against the side of the road.  I'll admit, this actually did make me uneasy for a brief moment.  You never know who has a gun.  It was 2 in the morning and he just blocked the two northbound lanes of route 1 in Dedham, MA.  He looked like he just blasted an entire 8 ball up his nose, and the busted ass hooker, (who may just as well have been his wife or girlfriend, who knows) probably just gave him a shitty blowjob because she couldn't unclench her jaw or something.  So yeah, it was unnerving for a second.

This asshole put his "car" into park, and I shit you not....he squeezed his ass through the window of the driver's door.  The only rationalization I could come up with was that the door was broken.  Why else would someone do that? Was he trying to make himself look more crazy, and thus, more scary?  We were now literally laughing our heads off at this dumbass.  He stopped us in the middle of the highway, screamed at how we disrespected him, squeezed his ass through the window of a car older than my little sister in order to come after us, and all we could think to do was laugh.  Anyways, here's heavyweight boxer Peter McNeeley coming towards me and B-Ride.  I'm about half my buddy's size.  You'd think, since, ya know, he's such a tough guy, that the Hurricane would at least approach the bigger guy if he's going to be confrontational, but of course he comes over to my side of the car.  Then again, he did punch a guy and steal $200 and also drove the getaway car in his big burglary heist of Walgreens while his buddies actually went inside.

"Do you know who I am!?!?!"  Pointing his finger in my face.  This whole thing was so out of nowhere that me and B-Ride just sat, stunned.  "Ummm.....I don't know, should I?" I responded.

"I'm Peter McNeeley!"  So I didn't recognize his face, and now, after he identified himself by name, there were STILL no bells going off.  I looked to my left for some help but B-Ride was just as confused as me.  I shrugged, "Ok Big Pete, can I help you with anything? You seem upset.  Did that lady just bite down on your dick with her tooth or something?  Her mouth looks like a set of keys."

He mumbled something in broken, drunken English and went on and on about how I flipped him off and us trying to race him and other such nonsense.  B-Ride, ever the pacifist, put the kibosh on any type of phyiscal altercation that would have taken place.  We could have engaged, but what good would have come from it.  The guy probably had Meth induced superhuman strength or something. 

At any rate, I have this inane ability to rationalize with even the most irrational of people.  With B-Ride's help, we gave him a worse mental beating than Tyson's physical beating.  After 2 minutes, Peter McNeeley had made two new friends, at least in his own mind.  We had him laughing and making fun of the hooker in his car.  We were having a grand 'ole time, right there on Route 1 in the middle of the night.  Finally, he looked up at us, gave us a smile that revealed his own lack of dental attention, and began to walk back to his lemon.  "God bless."  And he was off, out of our lives as quickly as he had entered.  Am I a better man for having known Peter "Hurricane" McNeeley?  Was our encounter a cosmic happenstance that I'll look back on fondly and think, "this is what life is all about?"  Will I tell my grandchildren that I met a great man one time and that I've never been the same since? 

No, none of the above. Absolutely not.  If natural selection has anything to say about it, this man will never procreate.  The gene pool can only be filled by just so many bad genes.  The funniest thing about all of this?  If he somehow finds out about this little blog entry, he'll feel so disrespected that he'll exhaust every resource he has, which is zero, to hunt me down and give me a good old fashioned beat down....until he finds me and I mind-fuck him so bad that we wind up playing Madden in my apartment or something. 

It's fun being smarter than most people!