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.

[Amnorix]

Originally Posted by 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 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]

Originally Posted by BIG_DADDY

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]

Originally Posted by Ghostof

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]

Originally Posted by gochiefs

WTF, people think Ghostof is me?

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

[Bwana]

Originally Posted by 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.

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. 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.

[Bwana]

Originally Posted by 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.

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 reeruned, 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]

Originally Posted by Rain Man

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.

[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.