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Thread: Have you ever been in a fight?

  1. #31
    Untalented Game Designer FFNut's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Midgar Mist View Post
    I was sometimes the subject of physical violence at the hands of nasty little schoolkids at school (got stabbed with a mathematical instrument i believe is called a compasses or some crap, you draw circles with it anyway, also had boiled sweets thrown at my head, my hair pulled and once they tied a strand of it to a bus rail, err lets see: glue and ink poured in my hair, been nipped, tights ripped, some bitch even stood on my hand once)

    I never really fought back, too much of a pussycat. Sis on the other hand,she rammed a table into one of them when they started on her! (she didnt kill them or anything just so you know)

    I for one am looking forward to a post from Sephex on his wacky school life so.....

    You our should have fought back. Bullies back off so one ho will fight back. Even if you loose the fight they will pick on someone who won't bust their nose.

  2. #32
    Shorty's Avatar
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    I grew up with three sisters. So yes.

  3. #33
    Vasher's Avatar
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    I started young;

    -Punched a kid in preschool over the tricycle that had the "trailer".
    -Playing the original Pong arcade in our gameroom (circa '83, I was 5), I was killer at it. I was completely wrecking my cousin (my best friend at the time, he's about 2 years older). My dad whispered in my ear to let him win one. I did, but then he gloated up a storm, wouldn't shut up, punched him in the stomach.
    -At my grandparents house playing with more of my cousins (3 brothers). The two oldest (both older than me) were hogging the best bike when we were supposed to be taking turns (the other bikes sucked). When I tried to get on it, they both tried to wrestle it from me. One shoved me, I punched him in the nose. (think I was 6)
    -2'nd grade. My two favorite things that came in the school lunch were my pear and my peanut butter cookie. I always saved the cookie for last, best with the remainder of my chocolate milk. I was always very tidy, I took all of my trash to the can, leaving my cookie on a napkin near my milk. I was away from my cookie for no more than several seconds. When I returned my cookie was gone and the kid sitting across from me was chuckling like crazy. His "sh it eating grin" was covered in peanut butter cookie crumbs. I literally dove across the table to punch him in the face. Bloodied his nose, split his lip real bad.

    My parents decided to move when I was 8. One, because the neighborhood was starting to go downhill, but also because my mother wanted horses (to have horses in LA the property has to be zoned for it, kinda rare here).


    New school, 3'rd grade...

    I immediately starting playing baseball after the move. Made some new friends right away (still talk to some of them to this day). There were also a lot of kids in the neighborhood, the one that lived closest to me at the time also played for the rival team. We were best friends, but we butted heads over baseball (both a little cocky). He was the top pitcher, I was the best batter, both on the two best teams. In the championship game I hit a triple that knocked in two runs. We were down by 1, my friend struck out the next batter. They won the game, but my friends ego was so fragile that he was pissed. Why? He never struck me out (all season long) and that last hit nearly cost him the game.

    -At school. I'm sitting on the bench, in line for handball. My friend gets "out", but refuses to comply with the rules. He's arguing with everyone, then asks me for support. I was never dishonest, so I told him "you're out dude". As he's walking by on his way to the end of the line, he palms me in the forehead, sending me backwards off of the bench. When I jump up, he's standing there ready to fight. I punched him in the face, then put my arm around the back of his head, and kept punching. He had a gnarly black eye/bruises. It took a few weeks, but we were still friends.
    -Another friend from baseball (same team) went to my school. There was this one kid that I got along with, but would pick on my buddy when I wasn't around (my friend was very thin, not very confident). After school I came upon that kid roughing up my friend, I ran over to break it up and punched him. As we walked away, that kid ran up behind me, pushed me down, jumped on top of me, and hit me a few times. He stood up, figuring he'd won, but I told him that pushing me from behind was a chicken move. I punched him in the face a couple times and he ran away.

    4'th grade
    -This kid was a friend of mine, but he hammer fisted a ketchup packet that blew up all over me, ruining a new shirt (I was afraid my mom would be mad), and he ran away. The following Monday, I saw him at the lunch table with a mustard packet right in front of him. I ran over and hammer fisted the crap out of it. It was all over him, in his eyes, and he was yelling about how mad his mom was going to be about his shirt. We squared off, I punched him, friends a week later. I missed the last 3 months of school. Broke my ankle real bad, it swelled up nasty when on my crutches, had to stay off my feet. Light sleeper as it is, I couldn't sleep through the pain. My dad was mixing me a "7&7" (7up & Seagrams 7 Whiskey) each night, worked like a charm (tangent).

    5'th grade
    -This is where I went from "righteously" standing up for myself and others (there was another small kid, not that I was a big kid, that I always stood up for, add a mentally challenged kid too, and I had to defend my older/bigger cousin that was there for a year) to being the bully. In the 5'th grade I was placed in a 6'th grade class. I didn't skip a grade, but myself and a couple others (5'th graders) were placed there and did the 6'th grade work on top of the 5'th grade stuff. The school bully, a 6'th grader, was in that class. He was way bigger than anyone in school, I'm guessing he'd already hit puberty (had the onset of a mustache). Maybe he'd been held back a grade or two, who knows. The kid even smoked cigarettes after school. He was just so intimidating, nobody messed with him, everyone stayed out of his way, everyone did what he said to. Anyhow, we would have a short recess just before lunch. The teacher would then tell us to head back to class to line up for lunch. I was waiting for it this day, I was never first in line, but when the teacher "excused" us I took off as fast as I could. I made it there first, just barely, but I did it. Only problem, the kid that got there right behind me was none other than the bully. He shoved me out of the way. I insisted I was first, he kept shoving "what are you gonna do?" he repeated, until I grabbed him by the throat and squeezed like crazy. He dropped to his knees, started turning blue. A few students had seen all of it, but since this kid was always in trouble, the teacher knew that he was the instigator. He is "benched" for the duration of lunch (asked to stay on the class steps), the rest of us walk single file to join the lunch line.
    -Part II. While we're waiting in the lunch line, everyone is "buzzing" about what I did. Lots of kids coming up to me "did you really do that to *bully*?", the story already starting to get exaggerated/embellished by bards and minstrels. I'm feeling very proud of myself, when I here a shrill "war cry" behind me. It's the school bully. It only took a couple minutes for the rage to build up, he was in a full sprint, coming right at me. I was terrified and feeling very discouraged, considering that two seconds ago I thought I had "handled it". His scream rattled me so much that I froze, didn't even think to run. As he barreled down on me, I jumped up (Little Mac style) and sent him to the ground with a hard right. Without missing a beat, I jumped on top of him and let loose. Now, I wish I could say that I was just cool, calm, and collected, in control. Nope, as I rained down punches, I was crying like a baby. The fear, anxiety, anger, was all too much. Two teachers ran over, yelling at me to stop. I didn't want to, so I hooked him with one arm around his neck, and continued my punches to his face. It took both teachers to pull me off of him, I was fighting, screaming, and crying so much that they carried me straight to the principles office, put me on a chair, and locked the door until my mother arrived.

    A week, or so, later, my "machismo" was through the roof. I began "throwing my weight" around (I was a late bloomer, always on the smaller end of the scale, until I hit puberty years later, around 16). I forget exactly what I'd done, but I was being disruptive in the honors class (separate study time), and was asked to sit outside (very uncharacteristic of me). When I sat down, I noticed puffs of smoke coming from behind the handball courts. I was a little confused until he popped out from behind them, dropped his cigarette on the floor, stomped it out, noticed me, and starting walking right towards me. Holy crap! I knew he smoked after school, but this kid had the cojones to ditch class and smoke during school hours!... And he's coming at me again! I stayed seated until he came near, stood up, just as he sat down and started talking about how embarrassed he was (about me beating him up, but also over being a jerk to everyone). We made amends, not friends, but "cool" after. Now my ego was unchained. For most of what was left of the school year, I was "bullying" people. No more fights, but "punking" people, or using my "authority" to get my way. It was like this until while punking someone during "socco" (coaches name for our version of dodgeball) the 6'th grader said "what, are you going to beat me up too?!". That's when I realized the difference between fear and respect. Everyone now feared me, when all I really wanted was a little respect, everyone deserves respect. That revelation really had an impact on my character. I never "punked" anyone after that, and I put my patience to work, giving everyone due respect, even those that ran their mouth a little too much.

    That segue into middle school may be a little misleading...

  4. #34
    Resident Critic Ayen's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Fynn View Post
    Eh, it was years ago and I was never any good at it, but it's something!
    Next time you tell the story you say you were a goddamn smurfing champion and no one could touch you.

  5. #35
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    I thought I had it all figured out and was certain that middle school would continue from where elementary had left off. Nope. I was exposed to a whole new element, "the ghetto". Now, this isn't literal, but some of the kids were wanna be gangsta's. I had never met anyone like these idiots. On the first day of school a kid asked me "where you from?". When I replied with the name of the city I lived in, he and his stupid friend laughed. I had no idea what they were on about.

    Moving on, lots of stupid "punk" kids, new egos, and some dealing with a hormone rush, I fought all the time. Often enough that the school security guard gave up on breaking them up (because it would just start up again), when I fought he'd just watch and chant my name (seriously). I think a big part of it was that, as I said before, I was a little shorter than average, very "nerdy", and a little on the husky side. This made a lot of kids think I was an easy target, but after it was revealed that I wasn't, the rest must have been convinced that they could take me just because I was shorter and kinda chubby. I was deceptively strong at this point. I often worked with my dad loading/unloading material (he was a mason/general contractor, but very "hands on" in most aspects), brick, stone, boxes of tile, bags of cement/quickset, wood, rebar, dug ditches, mixed small batches of cement by hand (shovel and wheel barrow), etc. We'd also had horses for several years at this point, I was responsible for taking the bails of hay into the back after they had been unloaded at our house. 20 bails , each ~100lbs. I also road a bmx/mountain bike every day, baseball, soccer, Tae Kwon Do (mom signed me up for discipline), etc. Most fights were over dumb crap that the other kid kept pressing, but two stand out in my mind for varying reasons;

    7'th grade
    -I've already had to defend myself a number of times the new school, so I don't know why this kid thought he would get away with this. I was counting my lunch money, along with a bunch of change from all the weeks prior. I was going to by a bunch of snacks for myself and a few friends. While I was counting it out in my palm, some idiot smacks the money out of my hand, grabs the bills off the ground, and runs off. I went after him, but he was too fast. Fast forward to PE. I went to his locker and demanded my money. He responds with "it was just a joke", but ignores my request for my money. I'm getting real annoyed, but then he turns and sucker punches me (fat lip). I was used to the sucker punch. In fact, that's how the majority of the JrHS fights started. Not only was I short and chubby (it was just "baby fat" ), but I was as blind as a bat too (only wore glasses in class when necessary, or during baseball). They could have telegraphed their punch in the worst way, still would have connected. No, they could have literally sent a telegraph and while I was squinting to read it, punched me. Back to the fight, I caught him with a quick 1-2, then got him in a headlock and started pounding. I was so pissed (didn't get to eat lunch, he had the bills and most of the change went through the fence and into the bushes). I felt him ease up, as if he wasn't fighting back anymore, so I released the headlock, shoved him into the lockers, grabbed him by the throat, and held him there while I threw a few more. The coach broke that one up, so we went straight to the dean. You know what the dean told me in private? "I would have done the same thing".

    8'th
    -My friends and I would have battles every Friday. We were all taking our PE clothes home to get washed, so while waiting for the bell to ring/PE gate to be opened, we'd either twist the shirt up and whip it, or tie a sleeve in a knot, cram the shorts in, making a cotton morning star (my favorite). One of my best friends and I are going at it, playing rough as usual (no holding back). I caught him a few times, so he turned away, but came back with a punch to my nose. Not sure if it was broken, or not, but blood came instantly (didn't stop for a long time). I threw a 1-2, both landing on either side of his jaw, and he went down. I felt horrible, but when I went to try and make things right, he didn't want to here any of it. My nose bled for a long time, but I'm pretty sure his jaws was broken. No insurance, and his single mom didn't have the money to take him to the hospital for an X-ray (honestly, I don't think he ever complained about it to her, and from what I knew, she wouldn't have even noticed). The left side of his face "blew up", couldn't talk right for awhile, "ate" through a straw for at least several weeks.







    Wow, I talk to much.

  6. #36
    Mold Anus Old Manus's Avatar
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    I was involved in a good ol' bar brawl a few years ago. There were a few black eyes but I don't think anyone got seriously hurt. There were a few scuffles during my school days, but to be honest I don't consider anything before the age of about 15 to be an actual fight.

  7. #37
    Radical Dreamer Cid's Knight Fynn's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ayen View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by Fynn View Post
    Eh, it was years ago and I was never any good at it, but it's something!
    Next time you tell the story you say you were a goddamn smurfing champion and no one could touch you.
    It was actually really funny. My first match ended up being with the guy who actually won the whole tournament When he pinned me down, I just threw the game because I couldn't be bothered to wrestle away, and I though I'd get another match after he lost (that's how it worked, for some reason). Cue this guy not losing a single match.

  8. #38

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    If being attacked from behind by my classmate counts...

  9. #39
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    I grew up in a pretty rough town so yeah, quite a few.

    I would also box with a couple of friends I used to go to the gym with in high school, and even some of those matches got pretty heated. Quite a few of those guys have gone on to do MMA.

  10. #40
    Resident Critic Ayen's Avatar
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    I never been in a fight-fight, but I was in a kind of one-sided skirmish. Back when I was young and stupid I once uttered the words, "Shut your big fat mouth!" to a girl during an argument.

    She and her girlfriends sat up.

    Marched down to where I was sitting and was like, "Da smurf you say?"

    A friend of mine moved to hold her back, but told her exactly what I said, so they push by him, the three surround me, and they repeatedly smack me over the head with a fury!

    Somehow, I managed to get away, and my other friend covered my flank with a water gun (THE SMURF THAT'S GONNA DO BRUH?) until I could make it to my house and hide like a bitch.

    From that moment forward I flirted with her to get back into her good graces, and to my surprise, it worked. She started greeting me with a smile and saying my name all sweet like.

  11. #41
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    Ayen, I have a similar story about my brother, but I'll share that one later (it's hilarious, yet sad).



    The "Megadeth" thread made me think of this. My toughest fight was against my own father, but it was all in good fun (not really, we went all out)...


    I'm a diehard Metallica fan. One of my life's milestones culminated in my father and I shouting to "Unforgiven" and "Enter Sandman" (amongst others) on our way through Topanga Canyon (Malibu). It was my 22'nd birthday and I spent the day with my father. We hit Neptune's Net for fish n' chips, plus beer, of course. Reminisced about surfing/fishing on the beach, then ended up at a dive bar in Topanga Cyn. Pounding pitcher after pitcher, playing pool. Went out on the patio (against the mountainside) for some cigs. Arm wrestling ensued (my dad was nicknamed "Popeye", insane forearms from years of troweling "mudd"). Now, I was damn near my prime at that time, ripped 260lbs, my dad a solid 210 (I've got about 4" on him, ~6'2"). Neither of us remember what ignited it (too drunk), but I do remember both of us standing up at the same time, throwing back our chairs in anger, and immediately going all out, Clash of the Titans (if you will). Everyone that was enjoying the night air, ran inside. The police came. We both spotted their lights, so played it cool. As soon as they left, it went beyond crazy. We destroyed the patio, wrecked each other. The bouncer (clearly afraid to enter the fray) popped his head out and asked "what the fq is wrong with you two". My dad looked over at him and said "it's my kids birthday". Dumbfounded, he walked back in and repeated that to the bartender. The bar back had nothing to say, just a look of disbelief on his face. My father and I had a good laugh, went back in, a few more pitchers, several rounds of pool. A couple of young girls came up to us, "were you really fighting your dad/son?". They flirted, all in good fun. He dropped me off at the apartment I shared with my new gf (now wife). The next day, I called pops and asked how he felt. We went to breakfast, brought our bloody torn shirts to share. We both vowed never to do that again. I had always loved and respected my father, but after going to hell and back with him, I couldn't put into words how much I revered him. Keep in mind that at that time I was already a seasoned bar fight veteran, and fights at parties were a cake walk (for the most part).

    Up to that point, my toughest fight was at a party. Two guys came up behind me and grabbed my arms (I was completely oblivious to their approach, smashed drunk). Their friend was waiting for this, and immediately began "swinging for the fences". Now, I've never been ko'd, but I was out on my feet, still fighting (I know from the onlookers that I never went down). This was one of the rare times that I wasn't with my group. I had a close friend (5'5", 125 soaking wet), and an acquaintance (big guy, talked tough, no help here). So, I fought off the two guys holding me. One was a little smaller (than me) and didn't have it in him to fight me without a massive handicap. The other, about 6'5", I put through a wall (literally). Still "out", the main assailant and I went at it. The fight passed through a bedroom (where I made the "pass through" with the big guy"), into the bathroom. I became aware enough to remember my face being bounced off of the bathroom counter top several times. As he went for another face slam, I turned and got him by the legs, picked him up, and turned him over, slammed him through the toilet (the seat cracked in half, the back shattered, water spewing everywhere). I picked him up again, slammed him into the bathtub, and began to "ground n' pound". This fqr tried to gouge out my eyes, scratched at my head, and even bit my forefinger (I have a scar through my fingerprint from yanking it from his teeth). As he was going unconscious he screamed "he's not going to stop". His chicken sh it friends all pulled me off (his party) and carried me outside (not the first time I'd been ejected from a party by a mob). My buddy wanted to take me to the hospital, but I had him drive me to another friends house so I could have a beer. My buddy freaked when he saw me (I'd never been hurt like that in a fight, ever). Huge cut across my brow, a bloody mess, had "raccoon eyes" from the head trauma (unprotected blows to the face and my redundant meetings with the countertop). It took a good few weeks to recover. Anyhow, my brawl with pops was far more brutal, epic battle. It comes up from time to time, we have a good laugh over it.

  12. #42
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    Life's a battle, my man.



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