Kicked in the head by Yakuza

*I had a gig last night in Osaka, my first electric gig at The Blarney Stone near Higashi- Umeda. It was me on lead vocals and guitar/bass and Andy on the Drums. Anyways, we rocked out till nearly 3am(then the place closed). My new friend Louis came out, he lives in the same neighborhood Erin and I live in, so we were both looking at several hours before we could catch the morning train back home to Goido. We decided to walk south, down Midosuji(a main street that cuts Osaka city down the middle from North to South) and make our way to Namba Station, a central train station, were we could catch the early morning train.

*On the map it looked super far, but it only took us about an hour and a half to walk.
So, we arrived near Dotomburi around 5am and decided to cop a squat in the main crossroad of foot traffic of Dotomburi, people watching and just chatting till the trains started up around 6am. We were right in area where the most famous bridge in Osaka is located, also the iconic "Big Crab" was right at our back.

This is the bridge in Dotomburi
The night moved on and turned to morning rather quickly. All the while a constant flow of foot traffic never stopped. The nightlife scene in Osaka is a truly sleepless breed.Gorgeous Japanese girls stumbling around in their short shorts and thigh highs, drunk salary men puking and singing down the road, slick Japanese gigolos and pimps with their alladin lookin' shoes and black suits hustling for customers, drunk foreigners being led on the shoulders and arms of friends, and, on this particular morning, there was me and Louis, two normal dudes just waiting for a train. Not drunk. Not in the sex industry. Not weary, haggard salary men. Not passed out on the bench. Not homeless. And, certainly not looking for a fight.

*It was about 7am and from the distance, maybe about 50meters, I heard shouting and loundness, which, at this point, was not a big surprise considering our location. As they came closer, I noticed it was a group of five 40-something year old Japanese men, in disheveled suits, yelling and stumbling their way down the street, toward our general direction. Their suits were not salary men suits, but nicer. By their swagger and obvious aggressive behavior, these guys were no doubt drunk and not ready to quit. There were a group of young, gigolo-type Japanese guys sitting near me and Louis, minding their own business, when this group of older drunken men started harassing them and jumped them. They grabbed one dude by the hair, and was yelling in his face, while a few of the other men started punching the other three younger guys. One guy was bleeding from the mouth. The young guys did nothing. They did not fight back. This led me to another deduction, these drunk older guys in disheveled suits where more than likely yakuza, which in the name for the Japanese mafia. Only yakuza could act so brazenly in public, in a high traffic area, in Japan, with no regard and no fear of consequences.

After beating the young guys, more yelling and rolling for the r's(this is one characteristic of how yakuza speak, which is a more rough way of talking in Japan) one of the yakuza guys got in our face as we were still sitting on the park bench, shocked at this every un-Japanese display of violence. The one guy was in my face, yelling what I think was "Dare!", which means "anyone" or "who"; I'm assuming they were looking for any takers. I was wearing a towel around my neck, a custom I've adopted while living here, which he grabbed and yelled some more in my face. I was calm, but naturally freaked a bit, this whole time. I still did not feel that I was in any present, unavoidable danger. I kept a cool head and continued to assess the situation. Louis was still next to me. They did not attack him. Then, another yakuza guy gave me a kick to the face. Seriously, a kick to the face! Not much of a kick though, 'cause these guys were totally drunk, so it didn't knock me over and it certainly couldn't do any damage. After that, they left us and went down the street a bit more.

At that point, two police officers came into the scene. What happened then further proved that these guys were definitely above the law. They got right up in the officers' faces, yelling at them, bumping chests with them, still relentlessly acting with aggression. This went on for at least five minutes, even still as we left the scene to catch our train in the subway. The group, police officers and yakuza, drifted onto the famous bridge where you can see the Osaka icon, "the Running Man", and the drunk yakuza guys were still yelling and challenging the officers. The cops did nothing, just like the young guys that got beat up, absolutely nothing. No handcuffs were drawn, batons, nothing. One yakuza guy even picked up a yellow and black pvc pole, maybe about 4-5 feet in length, that was used to section off a construction site nearby, and brought it over to the bridge where they were yelling at the cops and started banging it on the ground and guard rail. It was like watching an aggressive group of gorillas, beating their chests and making loud noises. Louis said that more officers showed up, but still did nothing. It was definitely time to leave.

We made our way onto the train, heading back to the safe, quite comfort of our little town of Goido. Japan is not like this. Just the day before, Louis, Erin and I were discussing how safe it is in Japan, how you can sleep on the street or the train and not worry about someone stealing your stuff. And, definitely violence is a rarity in this group-oriented society of Japan. That's why this spectacle was so utterly shocking; to witness this display of drunken aggression and the untouchable power that the yakuza weilds, let alone be caught in the storm of it, was an eye opening experience. It also made me realize that violence like this, drunken aggression, or any type of violence for that matter, is the same all over the world, and just as pointless no matter who's involved or where it occurs. I've witnessed my share of bar fights and drunken melees in my line of work as a musician playing late-night gigs at bars, and this was no different. I'd actually have to say that these yakuza guys were more talk than fight, just proving their presence, status, and power. I'm glad I made the decision not to fight back, considering the circumstances and the people involved, and keeping a level head in the face of aggression. Though, I know if I had felt more threatened or deemed the situation harmful to by being, I would have had to defend myself. Plus, I'm certain that if we were to challenge these drunken yakuza guys, it would have only escalated what was already a tense situation. I was not hurt, nor was Louis, thankfully, so we're lucky to leave unscathed with our first, and hopefully last, run-in with the Japanese yakuza.
*pics were taken the just before the incident, though I did not get a moment to take any during or after the attack.