OFF THE WIRE
Ilya Gridneff
smh.com.au
Ilya Gridneff joined the Comanchero motorcycle gang on a memorial run.
Code of honour ... Comanchero make a toast to deceased members of the gang. Photo: Ilya Gridneff
We were somewhere on the edge of the central coast when the reality began to take hold.''Write something good or I'll poke your eyes out,'' a senior Comanchero bikie said with a grin and weightlifter's arm around my shoulder.
On the run ... the memorial ride stretched from Milperra to Palmdale Cemetery. Photo: Ilya GridneffAdvertisement
Such are the numerous contradictions and complexities associated with the secretive world of bikie culture. They wanted a positive story and rewriting of past wrongs, but were heavy-handed with the very person who could bring that change.Outlaw motorcycle gangs such as the Comanchero call themselves the ''1 per centers'', the fringe minority of motorcycle riders that will never be part of mainstream society. They thrive on this ideal, get tattoos to brandish their motto, rings and T-shirts too.
They cling to this notion of the outlaw, but then complain about unfair treatment by the media, police and authorities trying to curtail that otherness.
Senior police and governments are often wanting more laws and a constant crackdown on the ''bikie menace''. Police squads like Raptor pursue and hassle bikies wherever they go.
But police figures actually show bikies commit less than 1 per cent of all crime in the state and, according to their data, ''are not a threat to mainstream society,'' an internal report revealing a contribution to crime of 0.37 per cent.
Led by their acting president, Mark Buddle, the Comanchero gathered on Saturday to pay dues to those past members and those killed in 1984's infamous September 2 Milperra massacre. It was an emotional weekend. But during the course of the day, that started in the south-west of Sydney at the Milperra clubhouse and went to Palmdale Cemetery in Ourimbah, there was a constant mantra: ''You going to write something good?''
Despite my assurances, grateful to receive such access, it didn't ease their concerns.
A few months before I'd spoken to recluse and former sergeant-at-arms for the Comanchero, Caesar Campbell, who lost two brothers and was shot several times himself at Milperra.
''When I started riding it nearly was all Anglo-Saxons and you had a few Greeks and Italians, and they were the ones mainly born in Australia. And the clubs were mainly for blokes to get together and ride,'' he said.
''You didn't have the blokes with gold chains and gold rings and the fancy cars. Everyone spent their money on their bikes and 90 per cent of blokes worked.''
A lot has changed. On Saturday the Comanchero who took endless photos were a mix of Pacific Islanders, Lebanese, Turkish and Aussies covered in gold jewellery, diamonds and silver watches.
But despite the projected cool bikie image, the day itself exposed a completely un-glamorous lifestyle.
There was a lot of standing around, a lot of waiting, a lot of rules, disciplines and hierarchies. A lot of dealing with cops looking for any minor infringement possible.
At Palmdale Cemetery, a few who were there that day in September shared a beer with those who were not born then. Riders mingled with each other, catching up with old mates, shaking hands, hugging and chatting with life members or new recruits. It was all pretty unremarkable stuff.
They held numerous toasts, before each Comanchero poured a little of his beer on the plaque of their cremated brothers. Rituals and a code of honour is critical to this supposed unruly mob.
They told me they were ''motorcycle enthusiasts'', and there was a fair bit of bike talk and bike appreciation. They said they were family men, one telling me he did not want to stay overnight in Gosford so he could get back to Canberra for his son's first Father's Day. Buddle said: ''This is a home for those who don't have a home.''
But mention the Milperra massacre or the 2009 Sydney Airport brawl with the Hells Angels and the tone changes from joking to serious, at times directly threatening. Then it gets tense and they ask you to leave.
Read more: http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/born-to-ride-what-lies-underneath-the-outlaw-image-of-a-bikie-gang-20120902-258kh.html#ixzz25NBPBj5v
