Spinoff: What was the last fight you had? Details please!!!

[wutamess]

If your last fight wasn't as entertaining, then please share your most entertaining fight.

Mine would have to be in eighth grade...

My best friend at the time would relay messages back and forth to this guy I was having problems with (basically my best friend was instigating). Anyhow, (I'm an artist) I drew a really artistic middle finger and gave it to my best friend which in turn gave it to the guy.

So after class the guy confronts me about the picture I drew and starts to push me. I immediately start swinging for the face and got a couple of good quick shots in while he was actually trying to choke me. So after (what seemed like an eternity) about 5-6 seconds we actually start exchanging blows and everyone is around in a frenzy.

I quickly found that fighting wears you down faster than Phobia's aunt after a few martini's. By the 15-20 second mark I was tired as hell and basically gave up. By that time the guy seemed to be gaining strength and got a couple of good shots in before the teacher broke it up.

The funny part is, I was so damn happy the fight was over people was asking me why was I smiling when the teacher's broke up the fight on the way to teh principals office.

Anyhow, in my mind, I won round 1 and we split the second round and he won round 3. But considering that the "on-lookers" started gathering in the middle to last round, it was a unanimous decision that I'd lost the fight.

Moral of the story: Don't get caught in the hype of letting "friends" cash a check that your fists can't handle.

~ The good 'ol days.

[wutamess]

bump

[Bwana]

Grind

[Chiefnj]

This morning someone told me Carl Peterson just received a four year contract extension. I couldn't help myself and popped the guy in the jaw.

[Hammock Parties]

I've never fought anyone. I'm assuming I struck fear in many a would-be foe.

[ROYC75]

I've never fought anyone. I'm assuming I struck fear in many a would-be foe.


Something to do with " make love not war " scares most of your men away ?

Imagine that !

[Hammock Parties]

Something to do with " make love not war " scares most of your men away ?

Imagine that !

I'm give off the "not gay" vibe in person, actually.

[Baby Lee]

I wasn't a fighter, but the funniest fight I saw in HS was these too guys beefing. The 'cool' teacher saw the fight and rushed to break it up. Unfortunately, his method for breaking it up was grabbing one of the guys' arms, in an attempt to pull the guy away from the fray. But the other guy was too fast. Now that one guy was defenseless, the other guy got a perfect jaw shot in, all courtesy of the authority figure on scene.

[Baby Lee]

Come to think of it, one of the few 'fights' I got into was a primer in the triumph of non-violence. A total loser, burnout, head case got it into his head that I looked at him wrong in class and decided to beef with me after class. He struts up to me at my locker, starts the whole "WTF are you staring at" schtick. And I just said, I'm not gonna fight you [at that time I was still more scared of my mom if I got suspended than any bully]. So he hauled off and wailed on my jaw. No response from me. So he hauled off again. No response. The amazing thing is, he then looked me in the eye, looked at the ground, and WALKED AWAY. Even though I heard his buddies teasing him about hitting like a mosquito or some sh!t, he never addressed me again.

[TheNextStep]

My last fight was at the very end of my 9th grade year. This guy named Brian beat up my older brother (Though nearly two years younger, I've always been sort of in the "big brother" role... strange, I know) for no apparent reason. This was on a Friday night so, Saturday, I mentioned to a couple of other guys that I was looking for the guy. Most people were pretty surprised because Brian was an offensive lineman on our school's football team and I was a skinny kid. Our school was small, mind you, so it wasn't like Brian was one of these goliaths you see nowadays... but, still, he was considerably bigger and stronger than I was. Anyway, Saturday comes and goes. On Sunday, I'm walking around with my buddy Konrad, who was among the bigger "badasses" in school when I see Brian walking up to me with Joe, another of the bigger badasses.

"I heard your looking for me?"
"yep"

We exchange some words and both throw our jackets on the ground and get ready to go at it when Konrad and Joe jumped in because we were in military base housing and if we got into a fight, there was a chance that the base commander could throw us out of base housing. The two of them basically got in between us and told us that we were taking it out to a field... so we did.

Truthfully, that was the best damned thing that could have happened because I was scared shitless and didn't really know much about fighting, particularly against a big dude. So, as we're walking out to the field, Konrad is giving me pointers the whole way... "Okay, he's bigger than you so this is how you want to fight him..." As we start getting closer to the field, Konrad hurries up to go talk to Brian, who was about 50 feet ahead of me. I'm thinking, "Damn, is he going to give Brian pointers, too? What the f***?" Turns out, he was just letting Joe drop back to talk to me. Joe says, "Man, I'm only hanging out with this guy because our parents are friends. Kick his ass." and then he started giving me pointers too.

We get out to the field and we probably circled for 10 minutes, neither one throwing a punch... and then I saw one of his arms drop and I jumped in on him and broke his nose. Suddenly, I wasn't scared anymore. The fight turned out to be pretty one-sided because the guy was just slow as hell. Basically, my whole game-plan was to backpeddle for a while, get him to chase me, then plant my back foot and fire off a couple of shots... and then start backpeddling some more.

It worked. Broke his nose and gave him a fat lip. He didn't show up for school on Monday and, since word got around that I'd beat up this big lineman, I never had to fight again.

[Radar Chief]

The last fight I got into, a friend that was sitting on the side watching got charges pressed against him.
The girlfriend of the guy I was scrap’n started jumping up and down screaming that my friend had beat her when the cops arrived.
Of course it was BS, my friend was a weight lifter and if he’d beat on her she’d still be wearing the scares, but none of that kept him from having to dish out several thousand $$$ for a lawyer to get him out of it.
That was just after I got back home from the Germany and I haven’t been in a real fight since. Litigation just kinda saps the fun right out of it.

[HC_Chief]

Last fight I was in was with my room-mate. Unfortunately I couldn't get too many good shots in on him as I kept getting pulled off of him by people evey time I'd move in for the kill ;)

He swung at me - missed, but knicked my cheek with a nai (I assume it was his thumbnail as his hand was balled in a fist), which bled a little bit. This sent me into berzerker mode... but my gf and his gf both jumped on my back to keep me from killing him. The look on my face must have been pretty intense because he backed away rather quickly.

Next little scrap I'm downstairs carrying my shit upstairs and he tries to close on me. Bad idea - I'm a pretty good wrestler... took him down instantly. I had my left arm around his throat, chest on his neck, and started wailing on his ribcage and kidneys with my right. That lasted all of five seconds however, as his cousin - who was a friend of mine - got me in a strangle-hold to pull me off. Again, roomie backed off quickly.

What sucked about the whole fracass is I never really got to land any solid punches; of course, neither did he, but I got a tiny scrape on my cheek and rugburns on my legs from when I took him down. So <i>I</i> came out of it w/ more damage than he did... and that pissed me off, as I would have easily kicked the living shit out of him if he weren't bailed-out every damn time I tried.

The next day he was talking all kinds of shit at work... until I showed up and invited him to step into the parking lot to continue where we had left off. This time, with no one there to save his ass. He wisely chose to back down. He quit later that week. :D

[Bob Dole]

What the **** is wrong with you people? Can't afford firearms?

[seclark]

win or lose, it always seems to hurt.
sec

[HC_Chief]

win or lose, it always seems to hurt.
sec

hehe, definitely does afterwards, that's for sure.
Broke my hand on a dude's jaw once. That sucked much ass. Damn hand swelled like a balloon. Worst part was getting it set... t was a greenstick fracture - they injected the topical directly into the fracture itself... hurt like a mofo. Then I wore a cast w/ a long metal splint projecting from it, to keep my fingers straight, for a month.

[Brando]

My brother threw a lamp at my head when he found out that I was boning his ex. I gave him a head butt and a bloody broken nose.
That must have been about 5 years ago.

[Coach]

I believe the only time I got into a fight was when I was a Senior in high school. There was a freshman kid (his name was Sam) who was suffering partal visual blindness and was deaf. I became good friends with him since middle school becuase he knew my younger brother, who is also deaf might I add.

Well one day in Oct. I was just walking down the hall with my best buddy, and I came across to the freshman hall, and I see one of the Senior that was making fun of Sam and was basically degrading him becucase of his disabilities. I stepped in between them, and I told the Senior to back off and leave him alone, or you'll deal with me.

He started laughing away at me, and at this point, I'm thinking to myself that I know this assclown will try to make a sudden movement, so I was prepared for it. Eventually he did try to take a sudden swing aiming at my head, but since I was prepared for it, I ducked in time, and punched him at his stomach. He bent down to his stomach, as what a normal person would in reaction of being punked in the stomach, and I gave him a vicious uppercut right between his eye and his jaw. He was out cold.

There were a few people around us and my best buddy, who was with me, was yelling "Down goes Fraiser! Down goes Fraiser!" Nobody bothered Sam ever since.

[InChiefsHeaven]

My brother threw a lamp at my head when he found out that I was boning his ex. I gave him a head butt and a bloody broken nose.
That must have been about 5 years ago.

Well, she was his ex at the time right? WTF, he was probably just trying to knock some sense into your head...:shrug:

[wutamess]

My brother threw a lamp at my head when he found out that I was boning his ex. I gave him a head butt and a bloody broken nose.
That must have been about 5 years ago.

That's just wrong.
Are you guys close?

[Radar Chief]

My brother threw a lamp at my head when he found out that I was boning his ex. I gave him a head butt and a bloody broken nose.
That must have been about 5 years ago.

You guys fell into her trap. She was more than likely bone’n you to pizz your brother off. Sounds like it worked.

[MOhillbilly]

wHO tf knows about the last fight , I
wanna win so they aint funny.

[ROYC75]

OK, this is a long one and this wasn't my last tango, but it was my 1st as a cop without any backup.

It was 1983, LaCygne,Ks, I was home that evening before duty. Since I was the only cop in town with 1 ( Jeff ) backup reserve cop available, I got a call from the sheriffs office of a disturbance. It's about 6:00 pm and the reserve cop is home so I have him come right over.

The call, a local guy named Gene Trinkle, ( 6'6" 285# and mean as a snake @ 63 yrs old ) who has been the giant in town for 45 years that all the local and sherriff's officers feared, along with towns people. He was drunk at the local tavern, destroying the place.

The sheriff's department advised backup was enroute, but it would take 30 - 40 minutes to get there, for me to wait, it has always taken 3 to 4 men to take this guy in.

The owner of the local tavern called me and said he has hit a few people and threw a chair at the glass behind the bar. At that time, I left to the scene not waiting for backup, just my 135# reserve cop at my side. At the time, I'm 25 yrs old,6'4" 225 # and solid, still active in physical workouts.

I get there and the place was ramsacked, he had destroyed the place, sitting down drinking beer that he had not paid for and selectively took from the bar.

Never ever meeting this guy ( as I was on the job for only 2 weeks ) he was the only guy in the tavern. I said, Gene, would please come with me outside, the owners request that you leave. He looked at me and started to laugh. Who's taking me in, you and that sawed off tooth pick you have with ya. ( Be advised the reserve cop was a stickboy, a real to life rainman ). I advised him that if I must take him out, I would do so.

He laughed and said " F*ck You Pig " then threw his can of beer at me , charging like an animal. I stand there and waited till he got to me, moved just in time to see him hit the wall, head first. I'm thinking, Ouch, that's gotta hurt...... NO WAY.....It pissed him off.

Here he comes back, we tango, crashing into tables, chairs, etc. I finally get him in a hammer lock as we were standing.... the reserve cop was just in the way, probally by design and desire for that matter.

The hammer lock even pissed him off more, he took off running with me behind him , hammer lock secured towards the front door. Yep, thru the front door we go, which at that time was only an aluminun glass and screen door. I had parked the patrol car right in front of the door of the tavern. We stopped at the patrol car, due to both of us crashing into it
front bumper, head and shoulder first. At this same damn time, I thinking this basturd is so drunk, he doesn't feel any pain and I feel like I have tangoed with King Kong and Godzilla rolled into one.

For some reason, at that time, I'm not sure if he had given up or was physically drained. Whatever the reason was, I was whopped, I hurt like hell, pissed off I had to wrestle this animal, I got one hand cuffed.

As I cuffed the other hand and took him to the car I could hear the backup coming. I looked up and was wondering where Jeff was ( the reserve cop ), he was inside laid out. 3 backup units got to me with 5 minutes apart, all were shaking there heads that he was cuffed and in the car. All wondered why I didn't wait until finding out some people were hurt after the dispatching of units. Booked him into the county jail and went home with some soreness, it didn't feel to bad , or so I thought.

The next 3 weeks I had to pay a daily visit to the Chiropractor. I had more damn pinched nerves in my back, neck, I could hardly move.

I saw this same animal about a month later, he came up to me and apologised and told me it would never happen again because not only was I the 1st to take him in ever, he was too old for this shit.

I politely told him it will never happen again either, next time I will take my gun and shoot your ass.

Moral of this story..... Never under estimate the ability of old men.

[HC_Chief]

Heh, hammer lock.

My buddy Paul got into a fight with some big dude in a Topeka pool-hall. Paul's a medium-build guy... 5'10", 160#. Dude he was fighting was at least 6'4", 230+. Choke hold... big dude thrashed around a bit, but after a few seconds, dropped to his knees and tapped-out. :D

Doesn't matter how big/bad you are - if you can't breathe, you can't win.

[ROYC75]

I was still green as a cop with no basic training at that time. Most small town departments you work a full year, some 6 months before they send you to school. They don't want to pay the expense if they aren't going to keep you around.

[wutamess]

On Sunday, I'm walking around with my buddy Konrad, who was among the bigger "badasses" in school when I see Brian walking up to me with Joe, another of the bigger badasses.


Konrad Bell?

[RedNFeisty]

The last fight I was in that did not involve Clint was on our first date. I know he should have gotten the hint that night!!

I had the hot’s for this guy and my roommate ends up tagging him. The fact that she ****ed him didn’t bother me, what did was the fact that she had lied to me about it. I am not the type to generally chase a person, never was, always figured if they liked what they saw they could come and make the first gesture, yes, I am a stuck up bitch like that. Therefore, my friends generally ended up with the ones I pointed out.

Anyway, my roommate spent the night at the guy’s house and I questioned her about it when she got home the next morning. That night we were all at the bar (first date with Clint), I asked her again if she did, she should have known by this point I knew, again, she lied to me. I can be a really bad drunk when I get pissed off, like most violent people. Words started in the bar and we ended up outside. Her head ended up smashing out three windows on our other girlfriends van. I have tried starting other fights, but I sound like a psycho and girls generally run from me, unless they are drunk and those are not usually fights, like the chick that took a spill off the rail dancing in front of me and Clint, that wasn’t a fight. That was me pushing her and her face hitting the ground!

[Mile High Mania]

Back in 1990, a few buddies of mine from high school and college met up in Little Rock, AR and went to a few bars with some female friends of ours. We were all sophomores in college and none of the girls were our dates, just a bunch of friends hanging out.

Anyway, we found ourselves at this nice (sarcasm) country bar called the Wrangler. Well, me and my buddies were all drinking beer and having a great time. The girls were being typical college girls (all nice looking) and having no issues accepting free drinks from the cowboys (ie- rednecks) at the bar.

Well, close to 1am, it was time to go. So, we're heading out and the rednecks are obviously wanting to take the girls, whom they'd spent cash on the previous few hours, home for the night. The girls were having none of that and were now clinging to us.

We didn't think much of it, hell I didn't think these yahoos really wanted to start anything. So, two of my buddies left prior to us, about 10 minutes. There were a couple of the rednecks standing outside and they proceeded to give my buddies some shit, but they walked away and as they drove away... my buddies were kind enough to shout a few choice words. Brave souls as they were racing down the road.

So, flash back to me and my 1 drunken buddy standing in the bar with 4 loopy girls. At this time, there were roughly 5 drunken rednecks that were a) pissed they spent money on these girls who were not going home with them and b) rather upset that my not so brave friends shouted obscenities at them as they drove off.

So, I'm 6'2 and about 200 lbs at the time... my friend is about 5'10 and 150 and normally the most quiet and nice guy you'd ever meet. I'm the loudmouth that would most likely start something with a wise crack.

Two girls grab me by each arm and say "now, don't smart off, let's just leave... these guys are mad... blah blah blah". I'm drunk, but smart enough to realize I'm out numbered. So, I keep quiet as we're walking out the door. I hear words being exchanged behind me and the only words that stood out were "...I bet I could kick all 4 of your asses...".

Somewhat stunned at what my li'l drunken buddy has uttered, I look at one of the girls and said "WTF did he say?". As I stop and turn around to get my buddy in line and hopefully shut him up, I'm sucker punched square in the right eye. I didn't fall, but I spun around and grabbed the stair railing. I'd never been nailed like that in my life, so I was stunned and as I stared at the ground, I focused on a rock as everything went black (except for the rock). I was disoriented and I heard fighting and the girls screaming.

I shook it off and turned around as I knocked around a couple of the yahoos, the bouncer came running out and broke it up.

At this point, my eye is pounding and I'm pissed at my buddy. I see him about 50 yards away walking in the parking lot. I yell at him and he turns around, face full of blood, points at his nose and says calmly "Is it supposed to look like this?"

Well, we're freaked out b/c he obviously needs to go to the ER and we're under age... oh, and everyone is blitzed.

Bottom line, once the rednecks had me out of the way... they knocked my buddy down and kicked him twice in the face with a boot, cracking his jaw in two places. He had to have it wired shut for a month, couldn't talk and ate through a straw.

Once word of this got around our hometown, it quickly grew to ME being the one that started it b/c my buddy would never do anything to start a fight. Auuughhh, that was so fun. His mom had to pick him up from the ER at 6am and that was just a fun thing to explain.

Happy days... I think the entire event took about 12 seconds to unfold. I never even saw the guy punch me, he cleanly caught me just as I was turning around. Damn that hurt.

There's no telling what would have happened had they not taken me out early, we likely would have had our asses handed to us, but damn...

[chiefs4me]

I thought you meant recent...I just had one with my other half...

[Hammock Parties]

I thought you meant recent...I just had one with my other half...

I bet you throw a mean right hook.

[RedNFeisty]

I thought you meant recent...I just had one with my other half...


LMAO! I took that to mean your hubby! To funny!

So, which side won? The right or left!?!

[chiefs4me]

LMAO! I took that to mean your hubby! To funny!

So, which side won? The right or left!?!




I won of course...I think I have had enough...I already have 3 sons and I don't need a 43 year old 2 year old.:banghead: What age do you all think men go through the change?:hmmm:

[chiefs4me]

I bet you throw a mean right hook.




Wanna find out?;)

[RedNFeisty]

I won of course...I think I have had enough...I already have 3 sons and I don't need a 43 year old 2 year old.:banghead: What age do you all think men go through the change?:hmmm:

Death

Today is not a good day to ask me about men. I think men in general are great, unless they are ours.

[Hammock Parties]

Wanna find out?;)

I was trying to poke fun. You actually had a fistfight with your husband?

[BIG_DADDY]

Wasn't much of a fight. We were practicing some grappling moves after hours in childcare when I ran health clubs when one of the guys said grappling was shit and he could take me if he could punch. I told him if he wanted a shot at the title to go for it. He tried throwing one punch I blocked it stepped forward, over him taking his back leg out. I landed on him in mounted position and started slapping him saying "what are you going to do now bitch" He gave up his back and I went for the rear naked choke and got it in a few seconds. He tapped and I held it for a few seconds longer so he started to pass out. He was mad at me when I let him up for not releasing immediatly but I wanted to prove a point considering he was trying to take my head off. Like I said, not much of a fight.

[chiefs4me]

I was trying to poke fun. You actually had a fistfight with your husband?





No we didn't have a fistfight.:rolleyes: Not that I wouldn't like to slug him sometimes. I was funning with you on the wanna find out.:thumb:

[HC_Chief]

Wasn't much of a fight. We were practicing some grappling moves after hours in childcare when I ran health clubs when one of the guys said grappling was shit and he could take me if he could punch. I told him if he wanted a shot at the title to go for it. He tried throwing one punch I blocked it stepped forward, over him taking his back leg out. I landed on him in mounted position and started slapping him saying "what are you going to do now bitch" He gave up his back and I went for the rear naked choke and got it in a few seconds. He tapped and I held it for a few seconds longer so he started to pass out. He was mad at me when I let him up for not releasing immediatly but I wanted to prove a point considering he was trying to take my head off. Like I said, not much of a fight.

hehe... never, EVER, under ANY circumstances give up your back. Try that Greco shit w/ a grappler and you'll be out cold in no time flat. :D

[Mile High Mania]

"... went for the rear naked choke and got it in a few seconds..."

Interesting.

[Rain Man]

The year was 1975. The place: Hickory Hills Elementary School in Springfield, Missouri.

It was a clear spring day, isolated clouds drifting on a sea of cerulean blue. The shouts of children filled the air.

I was at second base. I always played second base, and no one questioned it. We all knew our strengths and our weaknesses, and no one questioned my ability with a glove.

There was one out, and we were up 3 to 1 in the middle innings. The teacher hadn't come out with her whistle yet, so we all knew that there was no urgency...yet. Paul was on second, and held off my good-natured attempt to push him off.

Who was up in the batting order? My eyes widened. Big Bart was striding toward the plate. We began waving the outfield back. Bart was five feet and five inches of towering giant, 130 pounds of muscle, almost as tall as the tallest girls and much more beefy. He was mighty Casey in any sport we played, by virtue of good genes and early puberty.

I knew Bart well. We had matched up before, many times. I was four feet and eleven inches tall, 90 pounds of bone and flash, the second-tallest boy in the class, so we were often on opposing teams. We were Chamberlain and Russell, Montana and Marino. We respected each other's skills, but in our hearts we knew that we each were the other's barrier to success.

Mark was on the mound, and he put the pitch up. Ball One. The second pitch was in the dirt. Mark knew not to give Bart something to hit. He knew that Bart was impatient, and that he would eventually swing. We all helped, chanting that Bart was off his rocker, just like Betty Crocker. You could get in Bart's mind with that stuff.

The third pitch nicked the inside of the plate. It also nicked Bart's bat. Spinning crazily, the ball rocketed toward John at first base, too hot to handle. It bounced off John, and Bart barreled toward first.

A scramble ensued amongst the gaggle of backup first basemen. For the most part, these were girls who were concentrated in a low-traffic spot hoping to avoid being hit. They were not ready to field a ball. John darted through them, and Bart hit first base. Bart knew about the backup first basemen, knew them well, and he made the bold decision to go for second. The great beast of a man-child sprinted toward me.

Lisa saw her chance. Small and bespectacled, her trademark was her bare-handed style, made possible only by the fact that she had never actually fielded a ball. Today was different, though. Today was her Yorktown, her Kursk. Today was the day that she would become a baseball player.

She knelt down and cleanly fielded the ball. Aware that she threw like a girl, she evaluated her options quickly. There was only one decision to make, and she was one sharp girl. She handed the ball to John.

John whirled and threw, hoping to beat the giant to second base. I was left of the bag, crouched and ready. Bart was coming. The ball was coming. Only physics could predict which would arrive first.

The answer was never revealed. The ball was to my left. So was Bart. The ball was in the base path. So was Bart.

So was my arm. Never slowing, Bart knocked my arm away. The ball went by, embarking on a tour of left field. Bart parked on second. He turned toward me. He turned toward left field. He made a break for third.

Now, I don't normally consider myself a violent man. I broker peace deals. I negotiate. I avoid conflict by hiding. But this was intolerable. I had him dead to rights. He should have been trudging back to the backstop, having learned not to challenge Lisa to John to me.

But he wasn't. He was heading toward third, and the ball was in left field, and the girls chasing it ran like girls and threw like girls, and had no chance of getting the ball back into the infield except by bucket brigade. Paul was already home, and Bart was the tying run, the hero for his team.

There comes a time when a man has to act. There are also times when a man has to lash out mindlessly. This was one of those times.

I met Bart at the shortstop position, behind him and to his right. Football was my sport, and I knew how to hit. I nailed him.

Two hundred and twenty pounds of us went sprawling into the dirt. Two hundred and twenty pounds of us got back up, of which a hundred and thirty pounds was pissed. I held my ground. Sometimes a man has to do that.

Sometimes a man has to know when to give up, too. That's what sets the smart ones apart. The clouds drifted by. The sky was a beautiful cerulean blue. The bottom of Bart's foot was on my face. A teacher ran.

The shouts of children filled the air.

[Hammock Parties]

The year was 1975. The place: Hickory Hills Elementary School in Springfield, Missouri.

It was a clear spring day, isolated clouds drifting on a sea of cerulean blue. The shouts of children filled the air.

I was at second base. I always played second base, and no one questioned it. We all knew our strengths and our weaknesses, and no one questioned my ability with a glove.

There was one out, and we were up 3 to 1 in the middle innings. The teacher hadn't come out with her whistle yet, so we all knew that there was no urgency...yet. Paul Bushong was on second, and held off my good-natured attempt to push him off.

Who was up in the batting order? My eyes widened. Big Bart Tindle was striding toward the plate. We began waving the outfield back. Bart was five feet and five inches of towering giant, 130 pounds of muscle, almost as tall as the tallest girls and much more beefy. He was mighty Casey in any sport we played, by virtue of good genes and early puberty.

I knew Bart well. We had matched up before, many times. I was four feet and eleven inches tall, 90 pounds of bone and flash, the second-tallest boy in the class, so we were often on opposing teams. We were Chamberlain and Russell, Montana and Marino. We respected each other's skills, but in our hearts we knew that we each were the other's barrier to success.

Mark Cooper was on the mound, and he put the pitch up. Ball One. The second pitch was in the dirt. Mark knew not to give Bart something to hit. He knew that Bart was impatient, and that he would eventually swing. We all helped, chanting that Bart was off his rocker, just like Betty Crocker. You could get in Bart's mind with that stuff.

The third pitch nicked the inside of the plate. It also nicked Bart's bat. Spinning crazily, the ball rocketed toward John Greenbank at first base, too hot to handle. It bounced off John, and Bart barreled toward first.

A scramble ensued amongst the gaggle of backup first basemen. For the most part, these were girls who were concentrated in a low-traffic spot hoping to avoid being hit. They were not ready to field a ball. John darted through them, and Bart hit first base. Bart knew about the backup first basemen, knew them well, and he made the bold decision to go for second. The great beast of a man-child sprinted toward me.

Lisa Felix saw her chance. Small and bespectacled, her trademark was her bare-handed style, made possible only by the fact that she had never actually fielded a ball. Today was different, though. Today was her Yorktown, her Kursk. Today was the day that she would become a baseball player.

She knelt down and cleanly fielded the ball. Aware that she threw like a girl, she evaluated her options quickly. There was only one decision to make, and she was one sharp girl. She handed the ball to John Greenbank.

John whirled and threw, hoping to beat the giant to second base. I was left of the bag, crouched and ready. Bart was coming. The ball was coming. Only physics could predict which would arrive first.

The answer was never revealed. The ball was to my left. So was Bart. The ball was in the base path. So was Bart.

So was my arm. Never slowing, Bart knocked my arm away. The ball went by, embarking on a tour of left field. Bart parked on second. He turned toward me. He turned toward left field. He made a break for third.

Now, I don't normally consider myself a violent man. I broker peace deals. I negotiate. I avoid conflict by hiding. But this was intolerable. I had him dead to rights. He should have been trudging back to the backstop, having learned not to challenge Felix to Greenbank to Raines.

But he wasn't. He was heading toward third, and the ball was in left field, and the girls chasing it ran like girls and threw like girls, and had no chance of getting the ball back into the infield except by bucket brigade. Paul Bushong was already home, and Bart was the tying run, the hero for his team.

There comes a time when a man has to act. There are also times when a man has to lash out mindlessly. This was one of those times.

I met Bart at the shortstop position, behind him and to his right. Football was my sport, and I knew how to hit. I nailed him.

Two hundred and twenty pounds of us went sprawling into the dirt. Two hundred and twenty pounds of us got back up, of which a hundred and thirty pounds was pissed. I held my ground. Sometimes a man has to do that.

Sometimes a man has to know when to give up, too. That's what sets the smart ones apart. The clouds drifted by. The sky was a beautiful cerulean blue. The bottom of Bart's foot was on my face. A teacher ran.

The shouts of children filled the air.


You are brilliant.

[Ghostof]

I'd like to claim that I have been in numerous fights, that I won them all or got my ass kicked in everyone of them......but sadly...I cant claim either.


I have never been in a fist fight, push shove matches yes, but those dont count. I was always the tall kid from kindergarten up to 7th grade junior high. I guess I never did see the point of fighting. Call me a pussy whatever, I never ran from anyone, and the only person I was ever scared of, besides God of course, was my dad. No one ever has thrown a punch at me and the only thing I ever hit was the Everlast bag in the basement.

[cdcox]

I was at Boy Scout Camp (Oceola) and this kid a year or two younger than me decides he can pick on me. He has a couple of older brothers that are also in the troop, one my age and another a year older. He keeps calling me names and whacking me on the head in order to provoke me. I'm at least 6" taller than he and he doesn't have any more meat on his bones than I do, so I can't figure out why he thinks he can pick on me. But I'm definitely a turn the other cheek guy and let it go. It goes on for several days.

One day a bunch of us were walking between two of the camps and were pretty isoated from any adults. The kid that is picking on me and his brother that is my age get into some big arguement over I don't remember what, but the little brother ends up in tears with most everyone ridiculing him, including me.

So he calls me out. Naturally all the other kids in the troop egg me on. Peer pressure finally had its way, so I say, "Sure I'll fight you." I take a swing with my left. I'm moving in slow motion, so he easily ducks it to my right. Repeat. Repeat. Now I am nothing if not observent. It occurs to me that if he keeps ducking to my right when I punch with my left, he is putting his face in a good position for my right. So I throw another slow motion looper with my left, he ducks to my right, and I clock him with the right. He never saw it coming. Gave him a pretty good black eye, with a broken blood vessel in his eye to boot.

His oldest brother (not with us at the time) pulled me aside and told me, "yeah he's a pain in the ass, but what in the heck are you doing beating up on a kid so much smaller than you." Didn't overtly threaten me, but made it clear not to go beating on him any more.

Many years later I ran into my adversary again. It was at the oldest brother's funeral (drunk driving). By now the kid I'd beat up had finished a tour in the Marine Corp, was every bit as tall as me, and built like a house. As I shook his hand and offered condolences, he reminded me of that day. He basically admitted he had it coming, but he had a smile on his face that indicated he wasn't too worried that it would happen again.

[Iowanian]

It was feb of 2001 and snow and Ice piled the roads for 2 days. Iowanian fired up the Ford Dogsled team with a destination of Omaha. She was new, pretty and holding out. He was in Full Rutt and could not be stopped by rain, snow nor hail.

After braving the elements, our hero has near completed his 4 1/2hr drive back towards home on a sunday night. Reaching the extent of no-gas capacity, Our hero stops for gas at a interstate/hwy intersection station. having spent all of his money on food, flowers, gas, a concert et al, he heads to the ATM withdraws some money, completes the purchase of Fuel and a 20oz Mt Dew.

I noticed the brown van in the parking lot when I arrived, and noticed it pull out behind as I headed into the pitch black of a rural Hwy at 11pm. the Van followed at 1/4mile for a few miles, and suddenly it speeds to my bumper, flashing the brights. I'm thinking "something must have blown out of the back or something".

So like a dumbass, I pull the truck off into the 10" snow on the shoulder and roll down the window...the van pulls up beside, and the guy is yelling a bunch of jibberish. I smell a skunk and try to pull away, but in my haste, I'd forgotten the 4x4.
The Guy floors the van and turns broadside in the hwy blocking my exit and I hear the door.

A Bug eyed(OBVIOUSLY high) steps around the back of the van, which is over the center line with his arms up like "C'mon, get some"..I say "whats up?" and I"m thinking "this fugger wants to fight?".....He jams his hands deep into the pockets of his starter coat, and does this thug strut....I'm pondering Getting out so I can actually fight back

.and then it hits me.

He watched me through the window at the ATM....I'm about to be robbed and shot, in the middle of Amish Country.

I look around for a screw driver, flashlight whatever....nothing within reach. If I had a concealed weapon, he'd be 2 steps from Dead.

I yell, he keeps coming, never says a word. As he gets to the truck, I rared back til my elbow hit the armrest and Hit him absolutely as hard as I could from a seated position, square in his Snaggled, green nasty teeth and point of his nose...........A home run shot.

He stumbles back 3-4 steps, and which time I'm expecting a gun to come out and I reach for the 4x4 button, Floor the 5.4 v8 in reverse, back out onto the hwy and Floor it.........If he gets int he way, he's flat.

He was still stumbling around in the road as I went by.

The most scared I've probably ever been. I was Amped up for days.....................and THAT friends, is why I believe all law abiding citizens should have the right to carry.

[Hammock Parties]

It was feb of 2001 and snow and Ice piled the roads for 2 days. Iowanian fired up the Ford Dogsled team with a destination of Omaha. She was new, pretty and holding out. He was in Full Rutt and could not be stopped by rain, snow nor hail.

After braving the elements, our hero has near completed his 4 1/2hr drive back towards home on a sunday night. Reaching the extent of no-gas capacity, Our hero stops for gas at a interstate/hwy intersection station. having spent all of his money on food, flowers, gas, a concert et al, he heads to the ATM withdraws some money, completes the purchase of Fuel and a 20oz Mt Dew.

I noticed the brown van in the parking lot when I arrived, and noticed it pull out behind as I headed into the pitch black of a rural Hwy at 11pm. the Van followed at 1/4mile for a few miles, and suddenly it speeds to my bumper, flashing the brights. I'm thinking "something must have blown out of the back or something".

So like a dumbass, I pull the truck off into the 10" snow on the shoulder and roll down the window...the van pulls up beside, and the guy is yelling a bunch of jibberish. I smell a skunk and try to pull away, but in my haste, I'd forgotten the 4x4.
The Guy floors the van and turns broadside in the hwy blocking my exit and I hear the door.

A Bug eyed(OBVIOUSLY high) steps around the back of the van, which is over the center line with his arms up like "C'mon, get some"..I say "whats up?" and I"m thinking "this fugger wants to fight?".....He jams his hands deep into the pockets of his starter coat, and does this thug strut....I'm pondering Getting out so I can actually fight back

.and then it hits me.

He watched me through the window at the ATM....I'm about to be robbed and shot, in the middle of Amish Country.

I look around for a screw driver, flashlight whatever....nothing within reach. If I had a concealed weapon, he'd be 2 steps from Dead.

I yell, he keeps coming, never says a word. As he gets to the truck, I rared back til my elbow hit the armrest and Hit him absolutely as hard as I could from a seated position, square in his Snaggled, green nasty teeth and point of his nose...........A home run shot.

He stumbles back 3-4 steps, and which time I'm expecting a gun to come out and I reach for the 4x4 button, Floor the 5.4 v8 in reverse, back out onto the hwy and Floor it.........If he gets int he way, he's flat.

He was still stumbling around in the road as I went by.

The most scared I've probably ever been. I was Amped up for days.....................and THAT friends, is why I believe all law abiding citizens should have the right to carry.

Better to have it and not need it. Cool story.

[BIG_DADDY]

I'd like to claim that I have been in numerous fights, that I won them all or got my ass kicked in everyone of them......but sadly...I cant claim either.


I have never been in a fist fight, push shove matches yes, but those dont count. I was always the tall kid from kindergarten up to 7th grade junior high. I guess I never did see the point of fighting. Call me a pussy whatever, I never ran from anyone, and the only person I was ever scared of, besides God of course, was my dad. No one ever has thrown a punch at me and the only thing I ever hit was the Everlast bag in the basement.

That explains your need to get attention all the time now, you never grew any huevos. My guess is you never did much of anything with your life in general.

[Amnorix]

The year was 1975. The place: Hickory Hills Elementary School in Springfield, Missouri.

It was a clear spring day, isolated clouds drifting on a sea of cerulean blue. The shouts of children filled the air.

I was at second base. I always played second base, and no one questioned it. We all knew our strengths and our weaknesses, and no one questioned my ability with a glove.

There was one out, and we were up 3 to 1 in the middle innings. The teacher hadn't come out with her whistle yet, so we all knew that there was no urgency...yet. Paul Bushong was on second, and held off my good-natured attempt to push him off.

Who was up in the batting order? My eyes widened. Big Bart Tindle was striding toward the plate. We began waving the outfield back. Bart was five feet and five inches of towering giant, 130 pounds of muscle, almost as tall as the tallest girls and much more beefy. He was mighty Casey in any sport we played, by virtue of good genes and early puberty.

I knew Bart well. We had matched up before, many times. I was four feet and eleven inches tall, 90 pounds of bone and flash, the second-tallest boy in the class, so we were often on opposing teams. We were Chamberlain and Russell, Montana and Marino. We respected each other's skills, but in our hearts we knew that we each were the other's barrier to success.

Mark Cooper was on the mound, and he put the pitch up. Ball One. The second pitch was in the dirt. Mark knew not to give Bart something to hit. He knew that Bart was impatient, and that he would eventually swing. We all helped, chanting that Bart was off his rocker, just like Betty Crocker. You could get in Bart's mind with that stuff.

The third pitch nicked the inside of the plate. It also nicked Bart's bat. Spinning crazily, the ball rocketed toward John Greenbank at first base, too hot to handle. It bounced off John, and Bart barreled toward first.

A scramble ensued amongst the gaggle of backup first basemen. For the most part, these were girls who were concentrated in a low-traffic spot hoping to avoid being hit. They were not ready to field a ball. John darted through them, and Bart hit first base. Bart knew about the backup first basemen, knew them well, and he made the bold decision to go for second. The great beast of a man-child sprinted toward me.

Lisa Felix saw her chance. Small and bespectacled, her trademark was her bare-handed style, made possible only by the fact that she had never actually fielded a ball. Today was different, though. Today was her Yorktown, her Kursk. Today was the day that she would become a baseball player.

She knelt down and cleanly fielded the ball. Aware that she threw like a girl, she evaluated her options quickly. There was only one decision to make, and she was one sharp girl. She handed the ball to John Greenbank.

John whirled and threw, hoping to beat the giant to second base. I was left of the bag, crouched and ready. Bart was coming. The ball was coming. Only physics could predict which would arrive first.

The answer was never revealed. The ball was to my left. So was Bart. The ball was in the base path. So was Bart.

So was my arm. Never slowing, Bart knocked my arm away. The ball went by, embarking on a tour of left field. Bart parked on second. He turned toward me. He turned toward left field. He made a break for third.

Now, I don't normally consider myself a violent man. I broker peace deals. I negotiate. I avoid conflict by hiding. But this was intolerable. I had him dead to rights. He should have been trudging back to the backstop, having learned not to challenge Felix to Greenbank to Raines.

But he wasn't. He was heading toward third, and the ball was in left field, and the girls chasing it ran like girls and threw like girls, and had no chance of getting the ball back into the infield except by bucket brigade. Paul Bushong was already home, and Bart was the tying run, the hero for his team.

There comes a time when a man has to act. There are also times when a man has to lash out mindlessly. This was one of those times.

I met Bart at the shortstop position, behind him and to his right. Football was my sport, and I knew how to hit. I nailed him.

Two hundred and twenty pounds of us went sprawling into the dirt. Two hundred and twenty pounds of us got back up, of which a hundred and thirty pounds was pissed. I held my ground. Sometimes a man has to do that.

Sometimes a man has to know when to give up, too. That's what sets the smart ones apart. The clouds drifted by. The sky was a beautiful cerulean blue. The bottom of Bart's foot was on my face. A teacher ran.

The shouts of children filled the air.

And here I thought all you were good at was dodgeball...

[Ghostof]

That explains your need to get attention all the time now, you never grew any huevos. My guess is you never did much of anything with your life in general.


Yeah, you are probably right...but I went to school, I make close to $90k a year, I have a beautiful wife who is a surgical nurse, and all I am doing is saving my cash to buy our dream house and a bunch of acreage so I can quit my corporate job and hunt/fish 365 days out of the year, and to top it all off I am set for life.

Yeah, just because I didnt ever get in a fight, I have no direction.


Try again BIG_PUSSY

[wutamess]

Try again BIG_PUSSY

It's all fun and games until someone get's hurt.

Ghost of... I thought you was gochiefs?
Who exactly are you? Have you been signed in as another name before?

~Nothing to see here people. Move along.

[Ghostof]

Nope I have never signed in as anyone else. Ive read this site for a few years and last year finally decided to post.


"It's all fun and games until someone get's hurt."


LOL, whose hurt? I'm just playing the game like everyone else has. Someone flames someone, they have the right to flame them back right?

[Hammock Parties]

WTF, people think Ghostof is me?

[wutamess]

Didn't you have ghost of gochiefs within your avatar at one time?

Or was that ghost of, GO CHIEFS!!!

[Ghostof]

WTF, people think Ghostof is me?


Yeah, I had "GO CHIEFS" in my sig for alittle while and then deleted it.

[Bwana]

It was feb of 2001 and snow and Ice piled the roads for 2 days. Iowanian fired up the Ford Dogsled team with a destination of Omaha. She was new, pretty and holding out. He was in Full Rutt and could not be stopped by rain, snow nor hail.

After braving the elements, our hero has near completed his 4 1/2hr drive back towards home on a sunday night. Reaching the extent of no-gas capacity, Our hero stops for gas at a interstate/hwy intersection station. having spent all of his money on food, flowers, gas, a concert et al, he heads to the ATM withdraws some money, completes the purchase of Fuel and a 20oz Mt Dew.

I noticed the brown van in the parking lot when I arrived, and noticed it pull out behind as I headed into the pitch black of a rural Hwy at 11pm. the Van followed at 1/4mile for a few miles, and suddenly it speeds to my bumper, flashing the brights. I'm thinking "something must have blown out of the back or something".

So like a dumbass, I pull the truck off into the 10" snow on the shoulder and roll down the window...the van pulls up beside, and the guy is yelling a bunch of jibberish. I smell a skunk and try to pull away, but in my haste, I'd forgotten the 4x4.
The Guy floors the van and turns broadside in the hwy blocking my exit and I hear the door.

A Bug eyed(OBVIOUSLY high) steps around the back of the van, which is over the center line with his arms up like "C'mon, get some"..I say "whats up?" and I"m thinking "this fugger wants to fight?".....He jams his hands deep into the pockets of his starter coat, and does this thug strut....I'm pondering Getting out so I can actually fight back

.and then it hits me.

He watched me through the window at the ATM....I'm about to be robbed and shot, in the middle of Amish Country.

I look around for a screw driver, flashlight whatever....nothing within reach. If I had a concealed weapon, he'd be 2 steps from Dead.

I yell, he keeps coming, never says a word. As he gets to the truck, I rared back til my elbow hit the armrest and Hit him absolutely as hard as I could from a seated position, square in his Snaggled, green nasty teeth and point of his nose...........A home run shot.

He stumbles back 3-4 steps, and which time I'm expecting a gun to come out and I reach for the 4x4 button, Floor the 5.4 v8 in reverse, back out onto the hwy and Floor it.........If he gets int he way, he's flat.

He was still stumbling around in the road as I went by.

The most scared I've probably ever been. I was Amped up for days.....................and THAT friends, is why I believe all law abiding citizens should have the right to carry.

Great story, it always sucks to be along in a deal like that. You're right, if a guy would have had the .44, old green teeth would be taking a dirt nap.

I have had the pleasure of having two knives and a gun pulled on me at various times. :shake: The first knife incident was some guy trying to rob me going into a dining establishment. I was with a girl on a first date and this bum starts asking for money. I told him I didn't have any and he grabbed the girl I was with. I broke loose his arm and he pulled the knife. We did a little dance until I could get a shot in on his knee and go for the 65 yard field goal attempt on his noggin.

Knife two: A buddy and I were leaving the bar and some guy was outside out of his mind on something ranting on how "he was some kind of a special forces guy and how he could kick anyone's ass on the planet." We kept walking ignoring the guy and he started following us. He starts going one about how he was "going to carve us up into itty bitty pieces." I kept thinking WTF why me? He pulls out this big ass mountain man looking J Bowie knife from hell and starts waving it around. We were parked in a corner and there was no way out except through this crazy cranked up asshole. Thank God it was cold enough outside that I had on a coat and it happened to be leather. I took it off and wrapped it around my left hand and arm to protect it. The guy took a few wild waves with the knife and i was able to close the gap, get the knife away from him by beating his arm on a car mirror. After that, I jsut took him down and choked him out. By this time a bunch of people were standing around and the cops showed up and hauled him away.

Gun: A bunch of friends were with me and we were walking downtown after closing down a bar and we decided to give the hookers a little chit. We were not intereted in their services we just figured we would flip them a little crap. One of the old hides freaks out and pulls out one of those little compact .22's, the one that fits in the palm of your hand. I started laughing and asked her "What the f*** is that, a pea shooter?" She looks at me like WTF and we turned around and got the hell out of Dodge. I thought if was funny until I woke up the next morning and started thinking about it. :shake:

[Bwana]

Wasn't much of a fight. We were practicing some grappling moves after hours in childcare when I ran health clubs when one of the guys said grappling was shit and he could take me if he could punch. I told him if he wanted a shot at the title to go for it. He tried throwing one punch I blocked it stepped forward, over him taking his back leg out. I landed on him in mounted position and started slapping him saying "what are you going to do now bitch" He gave up his back and I went for the rear naked choke and got it in a few seconds. He tapped and I held it for a few seconds longer so he started to pass out. He was mad at me when I let him up for not releasing immediatly but I wanted to prove a point considering he was trying to take my head off. Like I said, not much of a fight.

On a side note, have you ever tried to train anyone you have been dating in hand to hand combat? I have trained a lot of people, all with 100% success, but have had a hell of a time with my wife. She refused to take it seriously. I finally got pissed off and tried to make a point. I put my hand lightly around her throat, my thumb in her ribcage and said "I'm a rapist, my thumb is a knife, what do you do now?" She got this deer in the headlight look, got ticked off and we left the training hall. This was years ago and I haven't tried since.

[MOhillbilly]

Once upon a time there were many crews of skins in my home town.
Needless to say skins like to drink get roudy and stupid ,myself likes to throw parties for the inercircle(always someone elses pad.... tuff shit)

so after a couple hours the factions are all there and full of beer but everyones being good cuz its my bros party ect......my girl gets loaded early and wants to go home.....so the nice guy i am i take her outside on the balcony to get some fresh air and talk her into stayin(no ****ing way im goin at 11)
so i talk her into staying and im thinking COOL now i can get my drink on about this time a goon walks past me up the stares to piss of the balcony onto the street.

Cept instead of the street hes pissing about 4 steps up from me and my girl.
needless to say i lose it(hes a nazi so dont feel bad for him from here out)

he comes down the stairs and standing about three steps up i punch him as he goes down im on top of him and see nothin but whites.get about 3 punches in and i can feel the blood spater about 6 in i can feel my index and middle fingers break about 9 punches in i hear his head break and someone start to pull me off him.

dont let em up and they wont come back.

Ive had a knife pulled on me at the square just some punk kid trying to act tough and after we had beat the dogshit outta his friends who wanted some we circled him and he runs off screaming " this white boy aint gettin cut"

the best part was these 3 fat cows that came over after we leave and proceed to tell us this is there turf blah blah blah and i tell cow #1 look down at them boots. Anywhere those boots go is my turf.
and yell back to the crowd of dudes that just took the ten count " HAHA you chumps gotta send your fat bitches over."

my fingers hurt & i dont really have any funny stories funny in terms that society would think funny but for the Hoods of the world Talk is Cheap and Violence is Funny.

[Iowanian]

I just got an email that a kid I went to HS with was in a wreck and paralized.

I had probably my "favorite" fight with him when I was a soph. We have gotten along pretty well ever since, but not tight pals or anything.

He was a little bigger than me...maybe 6' but not real burly. I'd been hearing that he was saying he was going to kick my ass, and at that time in my life....thats about all it took to get the oportunity.

He was the prototype of the guys that came for me in school..just enough bigger, not real tough by reputation, but I suppose looking to "whip someone" to get one.

After a few days, I'm in a class with the kid, and I hear him say something to a kid under his breath about me........I stood up in the middle of the lecture and called him on it, he said something smartass, and I went over and Flipped his desk over, with him in it. It was broken up, but I threw down the gauntlet and it was agreed that we'd "meet over the Hill at 4".

I got ready for baseball practice and went to wait with my friend outside the room he was in detention(I'd done my time). We go over the hill, maybe 20 people who knew about it gathered to watch(it was a common fight place at my HS....good ampetheater).

We walked to the bottom of the hill, I squared up and asked him if he was ready...He smiled and I decked him before both dimples popped.

It was a minute of Him throwing wild roundhouses, with me dodging and countering with left-right.....dodge....left-right. I could almost hear some waltz music. I got kind of board, and to make my point VERY clear, I grabbed and headlocked him to the ground(again...I was a wrestler) and gave him a few pop-knots. He curled up in a ball, and I made him say Uncle.

Never even got grazed. he didn't give me any shit after that.

I feel bad today that he's hurt though. He turned into an alright guy.

[Iowanian]

Just so I don't come off like I think I'm billy bad-ass....I should share a couple of more.

When I was a soph, There was a Sr, who was a special ed kid, but not retarded, if that makes sense...he was probably 6-2, 200lbs......I was wrestling 119-125 at the time. This kid was riding the bus and picking on the kids, including my brother who was in 1-2nd grade, and my sister, who was in probably 4-5th.

One day practice was canceled, so I left my car(school permit) and decided to ride the bus. When I got on, this guy was in the back seat of the bus with my 5-6th grade sister, giving her a hard time.

I pretty much went "iowanian" on his ass....A tongue lashing that would make a trucker blush. He got up when I told him to and went walked up and sat a seat ahead of me and accross the isle.

I spent the next 5 minutes calling him names, making fun of the way he talked(just sounded like abig dumb animal), a general all-round iowanian first hand smack thrashing.....my brother(just younger) taps and points out that he's smacking his fist in his hand and to watch him.

sure enough....the bus stops at his stop, he stands up, and I do too Just in case....he takes a fake step forward and turns around and throws a wild ass punch at me(a pretty damn hard one..glad I saw it coming).....I ducked it, and he hit the round metal above the window.....He was stretched out, so I hit him twice in the eye pretty good. He dropped his hands, and I thought my point was made. Thinking it was over, like a dumbass, I started to look away.........and he hit me pretty good 2-3 times in the eye and walked off the bus. I was kind of dazed adn didn't follow him off....Should have taken him to the ground and beat his ass.....but I didn't.

My point was made that he wasn't going to fug with my family anymore.......but I ended up with the worst end of that. Should have tried to finish it another day, but never did for some reason.

[Brock]

Sometimes a man has to know when to give up, too. That's what sets the smart ones apart. The clouds drifted by. The sky was a beautiful cerulean blue. The bottom of Bart's foot was on my face. A teacher ran.

The shouts of children filled the air.

ROFL

[elvomito]

2 others once jumped a friend of ours outside a store. they didn't know all of us were inside. we proceeded to exit and beat the sh** out of them. it was like a ping ping ball between 2 of us... i'd hit one guy and he'd stumble towards my friend and he'd punch him back to me.

we escaped but the friend who got jumped and the 2 jumpers stayed. cops asked the 2 others if they wanted to press charges because they got beat up pretty bad and bloody, even though they started it.
they just hung their heads and said no.

[keg in kc]

My last fight was when I was 18, and it wasn't much of a fight. A guy from a rival town who thought I was after his girl (I wasn't) and, along with three of his friends, jumped myself and a friend of mine after a movie. The funniest part (irony funny) was that they jumped the wrong guy. All four of them grabbed my friend from behind, threw him down to the ground and started kicking him. I am not violent by nature, I'm the kind of guy who'll shrug and walk away from a fight because I've never felt like I needed to prove anything to anybody in that way. I just don't think that way; I'm not impressed by fighting. But that night, for whatever reason, I just snapped. I think it was a combination of guilt over what was happening and indignity at the unfairness of it. So I just run at all four of them, still kicking my friend. I don't have any idea what I did. The next thing I remember is getting pulled off of one by two sherriff's deputies. Two were on the ground, more stunned then hurt I think, and the fourth was just standing there looking at me with this weird look in his eyes.

I don't have any illusions. I was lucky that night. Driving my friend's car to the ER and then calling his mother to tell him he was in the hospital was probably one of the toughest things I've had to do. Thankfully he only had a concussion.

I'd never done anything like that before, and I've never done anything like that since.

[Skip Towne]

Just so I don't come off like I think I'm billy bad-ass....I should share a couple of more.

When I was a soph, There was a Sr, who was a special ed kid, but not retarded, if that makes sense...he was probably 6-2, 200lbs......I was wrestling 119-125 at the time. This kid was riding the bus and picking on the kids, including my brother who was in 1-2nd grade, and my sister, who was in probably 4-5th.

One day practice was canceled, so I left my car(school permit) and decided to ride the bus. When I got on, this guy was in the back seat of the bus with my 5-6th grade sister, giving her a hard time.

I pretty much went "iowanian" on his ass....A tongue lashing that would make a trucker blush. He got up when I told him to and went walked up and sat a seat ahead of me and accross the isle.

I spent the next 5 minutes calling him names, making fun of the way he talked(just sounded like abig dumb animal), a general all-round iowanian first hand smack thrashing.....my brother(just younger) taps and points out that he's smacking his fist in his hand and to watch him.

sure enough....the bus stops at his stop, he stands up, and I do too Just in case....he takes a fake step forward and turns around and throws a wild ass punch at me(a pretty damn hard one..glad I saw it coming).....I ducked it, and he hit the round metal above the window.....He was stretched out, so I hit him twice in the eye pretty good. He dropped his hands, and I thought my point was made. Thinking it was over, like a dumbass, I started to look away.........and he hit me pretty good 2-3 times in the eye and walked off the bus. I was kind of dazed adn didn't follow him off....Should have taken him to the ground and beat his ass.....but I didn't.

My point was made that he wasn't going to fug with my family anymore.......but I ended up with the worst end of that. Should have tried to finish it another day, but never did for some reason.
I liked the one where you were down in the ditch and the foreman was calling you names. It's worth re-telling,

[Iowanian]

Alright...short version for skip.

I was working a summer construction job putting in buried pipe. It paid pretty well, but the boss was an absolute Prick to me... I spent most of the summer 10' deep in a trench, with no cave-in box because he thought it slowed us down. I put up wiht more shit from him than I ever thought I would just kept saying to myself "$XX/hr....$xx/hr...just ignore him for another month". The part that pissed me off the most, was that he didn't talk to the other guys that way....they were all pretty big and had worked for him for a while.

Finally, a day after working out in the rain all day the day before........which I think he did, thinking I'd quit..........The lazer had been moved by storm water coming through. At 6:30 in the morning, ankle deep in water, trying to set it.....He started in with his bullshit....cussing, blaming me for it being out of whack etc..

I told him It wasn't my mistake, but the storm, and he wouldn't let it go......He stood 10' above me nagging like a bitchy wife.......and then he called me a C@cksucker.

I stopped, stood up, looked up and very calmly said "i'm not a cock sucker, i've never sucked one....I'd appreciate if you didn't call me that again".

He said something fowl, ending with "you little dick lick".

I said something to the effect to not call me that a fargin gain...and he says "**** you, no-body back talks me, you're fired".

I was mad..........as I was climbing out of the trench, probably to pick a fight.......He jumps on me. He's a little over 200lbs around 6', and I'm not exactly that, as established before.

When he jumped on, he hit me from behind in the top of the jaw and cracked one of my back teeth....I am still waste deep in the trench, and hip toss him off of me, jumping out and planting a couple of good digs into his kidney and square up.

He stands up and I say "go write me a check, you owe me $XXXX, write me a check." he lips back and I plant a couple in his chin.

He climbed up in an escavator and shut the cab door. I called him everything I could think of to get him down, and he wouldn't.

Pussy.

The old lady whose yard we were in, saw him jump on me...and called the law. He was arrested for assault for a cherry on top.

The end.

[TheNextStep]

Konrad Bell?
This is a little freaky but, no, not exactly. Bell was Joe's last name. Konrad's last name was hawaiian. I can still pronounce it but there's not a chance in hell that I can spell it.

Was there a reason you threw that name out there, by any chance?

[LocoChiefsFan]

I'm not sure if this can be considered ''entertaining'' or not. It was about 15 years ago, I was 18, and my brother was 16. I can not remember what the fight started over(those years are a big haze). Anyway, he did alot of lipping, and I was about 3/4 phsyco at the time. I remember hitting him with a baseball, a skateboard, then I saw it. Just to the left of me on the top shelf of his closet was a 6'' fillet knife. I grabbed it and threw it at him. Stuck him in the leg. I look back at those years and thank god I out grew that crap. I'm not bragging. I really regret some of the crap I did back then.

[keg in kc]

Wow. Just...wow.

[Inspector]

I got into a fight and ended up breaking the arm of my foe.








Of course I was only nine years old and my foe was my sister, but I sure showed her. Don't mess with me.




Over the years she beat the crap out of me a few times too, so I guess we're even.


Yep, I'm a mean violent man. Not to be messed with. Just ask my sister.

If anyone needs to have a 10 year old girl beat up, just give me a call. I'll kick her ass.

[Iowanian]

The Brother of one of my aunts, who I knew pretty well when I was little tells an Iowani-brawl story that always gets a good laugh.

I guess a 4-5yearowanian was telling him about a wild brawl on the playground....Sand Flew, Blood leaked, hair detatched....alot like the cartoon Cat fights.

At some point he says something like "wow, that sounds like a heck of a fight"

and I says "Yeah it was, but She deserved it"

[RNR]

My last fight was around a year ago, I hope it was my last. Been in many won a lot more than I lost, it took many years to see how silly fighting is outside of the ring.

[wutamess]

My last fight was around a year ago.

With a name like that, why doesn't that surprise me?

I bet a lot of them started with, 'Watch this".

[wutamess]

Was there a reason you threw that name out there, by any chance?

Nope... just don't know too many Konrad's so I thought that maybe it was the same person.

[Rain Man]

Never underestimate the Internet. Nearly a year after I posted Post #39, I got an e-mail today from Bart's girlfriend. His sister found the story somehow and passed it along to him. Bart can vouch for my story, and got a good laugh out of it.

I seriously haven't seen or heard from him or anyone at that school in 30 years. Amazing.

[Hammock Parties]

What did I quote?

AH YES I SEE CLEARLY NOW.

[Rain Man]

What did I quote?

AH YES I SEE CLEARLY NOW.


Sorry. I was searching and I thought your post was the last post in this thread. I don't use the search function very often.

[Hammock Parties]

That might be your best post ever. I enjoyed re-reading it.

[Rain Man]

Aw, shucks. Thanks.

I had wondered if I should change the names when I wrote it, but now I'm glad I didn't.