As I sipped my morning coffee today, a strange thought crossed my mind—I started reflecting on the times I’ve choked someone out in the street. Exactly four times. Not a single attempt. Four for four. Lights out every time. Like any tactic, tool, or technique, it all comes down to timing and opportunity. A skilled stonemason doesn’t force a brick where it doesn’t fit; likewise, we shouldn’t try to force techniques into situations where they don’t belong.
The Cop Days: Front Naked Chokes
My first two street chokes happened when I was a cop. Both were front naked chokes, both involved suspects underestimating me because of my size, and both ended the same way—with them unconscious on the pavement.
Each time, I was dealing with a suspect sitting on the curb when they suddenly decided they were done cooperating. They both tried to bolt past me on my right side. My response? Instinctive. I sidestepped, brought my hands up, and executed the same maneuver I had drilled countless times. My right elbow struck the side of their head as my arm wrapped around their neck, slipping under their chin. My two middle fingers reached deep under their armpit, hooking the outside of their arm and pulling it in tight. As I crouched down, then stood up with a ringing motion, the choke was set. No squeeze—just like bending a garden hose. Both were unconscious in under two seconds.
The first guy was an older gangster from out of town. It started as a routine pedestrian stop. The choke was unsupported, meaning we were free-standing with no stabilizing object.
Later, during booking, we found a two-inch folding knife hidden between his sock and the sole of his foot—worn there so long that the imprint was permanently visible on his skin. When questioned, he was honest: “I got lots of enemies. That wasn’t for the cops. That was in case I ran into the wrong guy in lockup.” It was a stark reminder of the kind of people you might face on the street. He also asked me where I learned that “ninja shit” because he had never seen or felt anything like it before.
The second suspect was in a crowd during a disturbance call where someone had reported a man with a gun. He, too, tried to dart past me, and just like before, I executed the choke. But this time, the crowd turned hostile. I pressed my right hip—and my Glock 19 in its Safariland Level II holster—into my sergeant’s SUV for stability, leaving a nice dent that he later made sure I knew about. Order was eventually restored after things escalated to a Signal 13 (officer needs assistance). I always liked putting that phrase in reports—makes me feel like an Old West sheriff.
I want to note that I was looking for an image of a standing front naked choke and was unable to find any. SMH, this tell me that people are not training for it, either to execute or defend against it. All the images were on the ground. Most fights may go to the ground, but all start on your feet. I will do a video.
The Bouncer Days: Rear Naked Chokes
After leaving law enforcement, I worked as a bouncer at Knickers Pub in York, PA. At first, I figured it would be a laid-back gig compared to bouncing at Baltimore’s infamous Ottobar. I was wrong.
The worst nights came from “stay n’ plays”—middle-aged guys spending the weekend golfing, drinking all day in the sun, then hitting the bar looking for trouble. When mixed with locals, their frat-boy bravado often needed correction.
Both of my rear naked chokes happened on the same night. The outdoor bar was two steps down from the patio, and in both cases, the setup was identical. Drunk, aggressive patrons harassing the bartenders caught my attention. The first slammed his beer glass onto the bar; the second ripped off his shirt—an obvious pre-assault indicator.
Both times, I moved in from behind, slipped my arms into position, took a step back, and pulled them off balance as I crouched. As I stood up, I located their carotid artery with my thumb and rolled in. Lights out.
One guy, a former college football player, dropped so fast that I couldn’t fully control his fall—his head hit the pavement. Oops. The next night, he came back looking for me. The head bartender, Doc (rest in peace), advised him to let it go and explained exactly who I was. He took the advice, but we spent the rest of the night locked in an eye-contact standoff. Doc later started calling my chokes “the sleep study,” which I appreciated.
Lessons from the Mat to the Street
In all four cases, I controlled the suspect’s right arm, preventing any chance of them reaching for a weapon. Since roughly 93% of people in North America are right-handed, this is a pretty reliable tactic.
This is a cautionary tale for anyone who ventures into harm’s way—meaning, anyone who leaves their house. If you’ve never been choked before, understand how fast it can happen. If you carry a firearm, and someone skilled in blood chokes gets their hands on you, your weapon could be theirs in seconds. And they’ll decide whether they just walk away—or put one in your head first.
The difference between an airway choke and a blood choke is critical. An airway choke cuts off air. A blood choke cuts off circulation. One panics people; the other shuts them down fast. Effective chokes aren’t about squeezing—they’re about snapping into position like bending a hose. You probably won’t get a second chance, so make the first one count.
Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (BJJ) is the most popular martial art in the U.S. right now, and chokes are a huge part of it. But many practitioners neglect standing chokes. If you hit the ground with a trained opponent, the lights are going out fast. My own background is in traditional JuJitsu and Judo, where I trained without relying on a gi. In the real world, no one walks around in a belt-tied, rigid jacket. Instead, I hook natural catch points on the body, using only my middle two fingers. No thumbs—this keeps my grip strong and prevents me from being pulled down during throws.
If you’re reading this, consider it an education. Now you need to train. If a big, slow, old man like me can do it, imagine what a 20-something in a Tap Out shirt, hopped up on Mountain Dew, could do to you.
