Don Mang Airport, Bangkok. June 1971, 3:47 p.m. Bruce Lee was waiting for his flight to Hong Kong when he heard a voice behind him. “Are you Bruce Lee?” It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation. He turned around and saw a man about 28 years old, 178 cm tall, 75 kg of lean muscle, with visibly hardened shins.
Swollen knuckles, scars on his eyebrows. He wore a Lumpini Stadium gym t-shirt, a professional Muay Thai fighter. Behind him were four companions with the same combat athlete appearance. The airport was moderately busy. Passengers walked with suitcases, families waited for flights. The constant sound of announcements in Thai and English played over the loudspeakers.
The man’s name was Somai, a regional champion with 130 professional fights and 98 wins. He’d been drinking Chan beer with his friends when someone recognized Bruce Lee sitting alone in the waiting area. “I’ve heard of you,” Somai said in heavily accented English. “Kung fu movies, lots of dancing, lots of acting, but I’m a real fighter.”
