My Last Fight

[Onomea]

I thought this would be an entertaining thread. Hearing, reading, everyone’s experiences.

We moved around a lot, when, I was a kid, and I think every new school I showed up in, I got into at least one playground fight. Usually more. I was always a new guy, so the other guys wanted to check me out.

I held my own, as a little dude. High school, was the same. Duke it out a few times, even if I lost with the older, bigger guys, they accepted me, after.

When I started college, undergrad, I was also working full time. At 18 I had a crew. We unloaded trucks. Got into it one time, after work, with one of my guys, a black kid, smaller than me. I don’t know why he wanted to, but I guess we were young and feeling our oats, as they say. So we met in the parking lot, after we got off that night, and set to. At one point, he almost had me, with my shirt pulled over my head, he coulda really laid to. But he didn’t. I got the shirt off my head, and knocked him back, and one of the business owners showed up, in that parking lot, and broke it up.

Later, another guy, same place, not on my crew, black, said to me, in a fairly friendly way, “Pretty good to black a black man’s eye. Wanna try me?” I said no. That guy was immensely strong, and I wanted no part of him.

I still carry a crack in one of my front teeth from that fight, when 18 years old, fifty years ago.

But, that was not my last fight.

My last fight, I was maybe 21 or 22. I was in a bar in NYC, the Village. Some drunk was giving me a hard time. I don’t even remember what it was about. Those days, early 70s, maybe my long hair? Anyway, we go outside on the sidewalk, and set to. I hit him pretty good, but, he, being drunk, is feeling no pain. He’s not hitting me.

It goes on for a bit, like that. His face is not looking good. I start feeling bad. What’s the point? The bartender comes out. Says to me, “Son, you oughta lay off. He’s just a harmless drunk...”

So, I left him there, shouting curses after me, as I walked away.

And that’s my last fight.

What’s yours?

 

[opoefc]

When I was about 10 yrs old, someone gave me a book on Judo. I was a tall skinny kid and devoured that book and became proficient enough to keep me from being picked on by bigger kids when they saw me layout a few of their friends who made the mistake of taking a swing at me, which allowed me to get a grasp on their extended arm. In Judo & Jui Jitsu you use a person's movement & weight against them as they are off balance, etc. and your legs are a better weapon than your fists. Later in Army basic training I invited an obnoxious DI to meet me behind the barracks and quickly dislocated his knee. The CO sent me to Close Combat school and I became an instructor in hand to hand combat & knife fighting. I taught a lot of GIs how to kill a man with your bare hands in 15 seconds. "Don't get mad, get even " If you get mad, a cool opponent will usually beat you. Ed

 

[DWalt]

I had only one fistfight in my life, but it was sort of one sided. I was around 15-16 and in high school. One of the other guys in my class and I never got along well, and he got in my face and started giving me a ration one day. I had about enough and gave him a fist to the nose with everything I had. He ran off crying. Never had any more problems with him. In fact we never spoke again.

 

[bigmtnman]

I was 21.....swimming at a quarry. "He" came up to me and got right in my face about 6" away. Both fists came up to either side of his head simultaneously. His eyes rolled up to only whites -- "Goodnight sweet prince"

YIKES.... I just found out that "Goodnight sweet prince" is usually said about someone who just died ! ...... He DID come back around from his "short nap". He was pretty confused, but definitely still breathing !

 

[Gunslinger808]

As an LEO I had quite a few fights, don’t even remember my last one.
Since we worked mostly by ourselves, I took every fight as a life or death matter, there were no rules other than win, and nothing was left on the table, a kick in the forks or a knee to the noggin(or a noggin to the noggin) was just part of the game.

When you’re out in the middle of nowhere, and backup is 15 minutes away, well...

 

[WuzzFuzz]

Well....I've fought (battled) knee surgeries one on each knee. 5 lower back surgeries, one surgery to my neck, a motorcycle wreck, a car wreck, cancer, 4 marriages, and am still trying to recover from by-pass surgery. A gun shot, loss of hair, loss of teeth, somewhat loss of sight and hearing.

Still hurting from some of the maladies, but for now I've won the fight. But I suppose the old man with the long beard and sickle will end up winning in the long run. But it's been one hell-of-a fight all these years.


Sometimes it hurts like Hell, but I suppose the thing that counts is to get up after being knocked down each time to face another round.

It's those haymakers that one doesn't see coming is what can really knock you down....for a while!!!!!


WuzzFuzz

 

[Tubbsy]

My uncle was a an up and coming amateur boxer, on track to go pro until he broke his back in a car wreck.... taught me to box starting around 5 years old.... stuck with it until high school. Only got in one fight in high school, guy swung, didn't connect, and i lit him up.... never had trouble with anyone after that. Helps that I'm short (°about 5'10), stocky, and have freakishly long arms for a guy my height.

 

[6518John]

The First Rule Of Fight Club . . . .

 

[Cdog]

You know, I don't recall my last fight. Regardless of the outcome, I recall afterwards of feeling bad about it.

These days I'm not physically fit for much, definitely not fighting.

Reading this thread has awakened a fifteen year olds ego hoping he hasn't seen his last fight. (Not In Reality)

That fifteen year olds ego gets put in check every time I work in the yard!

 

[ContinentalOp]

Last fight I was in was while working as a security guard back in the 90s.

 

[rubiranch]

I've never been in a fight.
That's what bodyguards are for.

 

[hittman77]

I was about 21. Alcohol was involved .... at least on my end.

I'm lucky he didn't hurt me bad.

I started it. He refused to end it.

Later, I sought him out to apologize and thank him. He was very gracious.

To this day I am embarrassed about my behavior and even though we don't see each other often, I consider him a friend.

 

[pawngal]

Never got into any fights but used to arm wrestle for drinks occasionally. Did all right.

Well, there was that one time, little redneck bar out in the boonies from Ft Leonard Wood, MO, busted a guy over the head with a beer bottle for harassing me.

 

[Justin T]

I think my last fight was at 13 or 14, in the parking lot of the junior high school. I was scrawny, but fought like hell however I could. I don’t remember the reason for the fight but I do recall using the guy’s face as a push broom.

 

[Old Arkansawyer]

My last one was over, guess what, a woman. One of her coworkers would
not leave her alone so I showed up and proceeded to teach him some
manners. Knocked him down twice then for good measure kicked him in
the ribs, end of fight.
Long story short, a couple years she kicked me to the curb. I lucked out.

 

[storyman]

I was 60 for my last fist fight. I'm about to turn 66. On a job site, 3 youngsters (20's and 30's) decided they were going to take one of my fuel cans and I decided they weren't. I hit the one holding my can in the side of his head (hit first and hit hard), took most of the fight outa him. The second one jumped on my back, I beat on his ribs and swung him around to keep the third off me. Then thankfully some men that were working close came and broke up the scuffle because given more time they'd probably got me! Two months later I asked my wife what she wanted for her birthday, she said, your retirement. Yep she got her wish!

 

[Protocall_Design]

Never pick on an old guy. If they can't fight or run, they will just kill you. Older people don't have as many choices as young ones.

 

[jeffrefrig]

Back in '86, girl's ex that I was with kept coming around. One time we left the bar because he came in & started causing trouble. He followed us out, he took a swing and I proceeded to punch back. Cracked his jaw, broke a couple ribs and uglied him up. The punk went to police! I had to pay for two weeks work he missed so all charges were dropped; even though I didn't start it. Never again. I still have a speed bag in my cellar just to keep from turning to jelly. Fighting just isn't worth it when you're an adult unless you're getting paid.

 

[prochi2k]

When I was 11, a kid my age sent me home with a left cheek/eye shiner, he got me first and I never got the chance.
@14, a friend at school intentionally hit me with a soccer ball, a fight followed, my right hand was kinda tender and swollen the next day but not as bad as the left side of his face.
@15, in high school - alcohol may have been a factor, or not - much smaller kid swung at me first and missed, a roundhouse kick took him down rather quick.
@21, at a card game, all my fault, alcohol involved, got beat by two guys, I got lucky I only ended with a few lumps, bruises and a bad headache. I apologized later on and became friends.

 

[Jinglebob]

I go out of my way to avoid fighting, it’s not worth it. But, in some situations threats are justified.

Back in the 50s, in my 7th grade class, there was a boy named Jack. He was a skinny kid with a thin face, long nose and a pronounced overbite. He was known as the Rat. We didn’t bully him; he tormented and bullied others.

The Rat had a strong-arm, Bobby, who was big and fat and dumb as a log. The rat would extort lunch money form the smaller kids on the playground with the threat that if they didn’t fork over, he would order Bobby to sit on them and issue a few punches.

One day in the lunchroom a little guy named Jeff, a neighbor kid, sat down beside me with only a glass of water. Almost in tears, he explained that he wasn’t eating because the Rat had taken his lunch money. Normally I didn’t get involved in fixing the problems of others but Jeff was my friend and what the two thugs were doing stuck in my craw.

I spied the Rat and Bobby at a table across the room. I was a tough farm kid and neither scared me. I walked over and took a seat beside them and explained to the Rat and his pal that if Jeff’s money wasn’t returned pronto, he and I would have a meeting after school. He was welcome to bring along his buddy for support.

The Rat thought it over and eventually pulled a quarter form his pocket and dropped it on the table. I told him that he had stolen two quarters. He looked at Bobby who then took a coin from his pocket and placed it on the table.

That night at supper my mom asked how my school day went. I told the story to my parents. Mom, a good Christian woman, was upset that I had threatened a classmate with violence. My dad on the other hand often put aside the Good Book and quoted form the book of real life. He agreed with how I handled the situation. He said that life is hard enough without others making it harder.

The next morning my mom beat a path to the principal’s office and explained what she had discovered going on at the school. After some review, Jack and Bobby were expelled. The kids were glad to see them gone but anxious as to what might happen when the two returned. Bobby eventually came back to school but kept to himself. The Rat never returned.

In the 80s an old school friend informed me that Jack, the Rat, was in prison in Huntsville and that Bobby was selling used cars in Odessa, Texas.