Ever been in a fist fight?
 

Have you ever been in a fist fight with someone before? Do tell! Everyone likes a good fight story. Here is mine:

Although I don't have many, the one I have was one of the biggest flukes of all time. It was about 12 a.m. and I was just getting off the subway at Dufferin Station in Toronto, Ont. Now, you have to understand that Dufferin is one of Toronto's major intersections (i'd say) and is constantly busy. But when I got off the subway no one got off with me (never happened before). I went upstairs no one was in the station but the booth worker (never happened before) and as I climbed the stairs there was no one with me, or waiting for a bus (never happened before).

I lived, literally, next to the station. The building was attached to the station on the North-West side exit. My walk home from the station consisted of opening the door, turning right, walking ten steps, turning right again, walking thirty steps, and I'm home. So when I walked out of the station into the rain, I didn't bother to stop and open my umbrella, which, knowing me, would of taken a minute (I'm clumsy). I turned right and was adjusting my messenger bag when I heard this loud slapping. Like someone running in Chuck's. I turned to see what it was and it happened:

A hand grabbed my bag and pulled. At the same time the other hand came at my face and, funnily enough, missed because he had pulled me to the side so hard. As he was mid-follow through I, without thinking, punched him as hard as I could in the ribs, which he had all of that momentum and his weight leaning in to it. He went down like a sack o'potatoes. And then came my smoothest moment alive, something I'm entirely proud of: I looked at him on the ground, in total shock, and said in a shaky voice "You... fucking drug smoker." Charming.

I started to walk away (dumb) and I felt a hand on the back of my coat (a much weaker hand). I shook him off, threw him onto a park bench, and began to pummel him mercilessly. I hit him until my hands started to bleed. He hit me a couple of times too; once in the jaw, which fucking hurt, and once in the ribs, which cracked a rib. I kept hitting him until he said "stop, stop, stop."

ME: Are YOU going to stop?

HIM: I just wanted yo' stuff man.

ME: [Perplexed] Well you can't have it!?

HIM: [rolling off the bench and stumbling away] sorry, sorry - etc

I ached for a minute, wiped my hands on my jeans (write off), and then chased for about a second when I thought "all I need is to go around a corner tonight and find him and four friends with knifes". So I didn't.

I got inside, saw the in-house doctor, and then it hit me. I COULD have been stabbed. I could have been killed. He could of beat ME to death. I could have killed HIM. And worst of all, this kid was probably a street person, and probably a drug user. I had open wounds on his open wounds. Jesus I was scared until I went to the doctor to get everything checked out.

The most interesting part of the night though was that during this whole skirmish, not ONE car or ONE person passed us. Not one. Which would never happen again in a lifetime at an intersection like that, on a saturday night at 12. Crazy.


So what about you? Tell 'em!

Never.

Once as a kid I gave a lousy slap to the jerk who threw my hat out of a school bus window.

I honestly don't remember what happened afterward. I think we got in trouble and my hat was gone for good.

Once, when I was in college, a gang of local kids passed by and one of them punched me in the head. I ran. So, I wouldn't call it a fight.

Three times, twice in junior high, once in high school. In junior high, once I got my ass handed to me by a big guy who jumped me because he didn't like the crew I hung with; and once I kicked this kid's ass when he was aggressively putting the moves on my girl...like to the point of backing her into a corner.

The first time I just remember thinking, "Fuck, this is gonna hurt." And then it did. This was before I took any aikido or tai chi, and I had no sense of balance or flow. He got under my guard fast, got in two shots to gut and a kick to the nads that only partially connected, but between them, I went down. He gave me one more kick in the middle for good measure, and left me whimpering on the ground like run-over puppy.

The second time, I just saw red, and I hit the guy like a freight train. He didn't see it coming, and my girlfriend ended up having to pull me off of him. I have a vague memory of how satisfying it felt to have my fists connect with him. Later on, my hands hurt like hell, and I had a couple small bruises on my body where his punches had connected. But I never felt them in the moment.

The last time, in high school, I had mostly sworn off doing violence except in self-defense, but I couldn't let this pass: I called the guy out because he was saying anti-Semitic stuff. He had been going on about Jews controlling everything, and how they were a global infestation of weak, cowardly conspirators who tried to rule from secrecy, and how Hitler should've wiped them out, etc. I called him on it, said I was Jewish, and that was bullshit, and he'd better take it all back, and learn some common sense and respect. He went on to call me several anti-Semitic names, and so I very methodically handed him his ass. I had taken a couple of years of aikido and a little tai chi by then, and he was just a tough punk, so it wasn't much of a contest. I got in a couple good shots to his mouth, and both times told him pointedly that I could've just broken his nose; I got in a kick that brushed his nads, and told him I could've just kicked his balls head-on; I got in a perfect shot to his solar plexus that got him on his knees, gasping; and I got a combination sweep to his thigh and kick to his ribs that left him flat on the ground, panting and whimpering. I then told him that he needed to educate himself about who Jews are and who they are not. I recommended a couple of books from the library. And I told him that if I ever got word of him talking shit about my people again, this beat-down was going to look like Sunday at the Flower Gardens by comparison.

I don't know that he stopped being an anti-Semite, but he did keep it quiet for the rest of high school.

Levite, you're a friggin' badass. Seriously.

Nope. I would have been a guaranteed loss if I ever got into one before I started working out. Now I think my weight training has put me at average strength (I can bench 225) so it would be interesting if it ever happened. There were lots of times were people in middle school and high school deserved an ass kicking from me but I never did it because I used to be a super self-conscious, shy, miserably introverted being until I got to college. Once, a friend punched me right square in the head for calling him out on him being a liar. I just sat there and didn't say anything. I can't believe how much I've changed since then.

I love spending Sundays at the Flower Gardens!

the poll needs to be changed..

I've been in too many to remember and have won and lost.

and just curious what weight training has to do with fighting. fighting is a skill not a weight. sure it could help in dealing a heavier blow, but there's alot more to it than being strong.

Oh, ho-ho! You're on the top of my list now, Gucci.

Strength training for fighting is important. Being stronger and having more lean muscle mass doesn't just mean more weight behind a blow, but more power in blows delivered and more resistance to certain blows received. Bruce Lee without weight training would have been far less impressive a fighter. That said, if an individual was interested in developing fighting skill, it takes more than strength training, it takes the development of technique and practice in the ring.

isn't that what I said? :rolleyes: of course both are necessary, but just having strength training doesn't make you a fighter.

Bring it smooth boy!

I can be there by 2200 EST. No shirts, no shoes, no asphalt. You better bring your Hello Kitty band-aids. We'll have beers afterward.

...

I've been in plenty of fights but not street fights. Karate'd! We wear gloves and refrain from groin shots. It's still pretty brutal, though. I've seen guys knocked out, sent to the ER, blood all over the place, etc. Hell, my first gi has a blood stain on it from some wrestling match. It's like fight club minus the missing teeth. Sometimes I wonder how I'd do in a street fight. I figure I wouldn't be a doormat but so many factors come into the "fist fight" thing.

I've fought a bushel of jokers in karate / MMA matches and lemme clue in some who believe otherwise: size helps. Height and weight (muscle over flub). It doesn't decide fights by any means... I've tapped out guys that weigh a considerable amount more than me as well as world class guys who are much more experienced simply because I got lucky. Would I wanna be bigger? Duh. If I could put another 20 pounds of meat on, I'd be ready for serious competition.

I often get pommeled doing standup stuff by guys who weigh 50-75 pounds more than myself. I remember getting a full force round kick to the ribs while sparring this dude and I was good for about 3 seconds before my body crumpled like a beer can. My only advantage is my flexibility (multiple kicks, torsohead in quick succession) and the fact that I do a lot of cardio stuff and can operate at higher RPMs for a little longer.

Muscle mass / flub helps protect you from blows. God, I'll take a shot to the torso from a guy that weighs XX pounds more than me and my ~160 versus his ~215 is no contest. If he sinks his weight into a uppercut to the obliques, I'm going to stagger back like a ragdoll. The physics don't mess around.

Strength training? A good choice for anybody who wants to use their body as a weapon. Dedicated technique practice is absolutely crucial, but physical strength is a key component of that. Your muscles are the propellant for the bone projectiles. You're Nerfing yourself if you ignore the weights.

Typically, a scrawny Star Wars nerd that knows BJJ is still a scrawny Star Wars nerd that'll get stuffed in a trash can by a guy who can squat a Volkswagen.

Ranking of Good Fighter skills:
1. Aggression / Confidence
2. Precision / Technique
3. Endurance
3. Strength

Does this really need to be answered? Would you rather fight a guy who can benchpress 225 or a guy who can benchpress 40 pounds? Obviously skill is a factor, but strength is gonna change the fight completely, more than anything else in a typical situation I would wager. We're talking a fist fight with a stranger here, not a MMA fight in the octagon.

you underestimate skinny boys with little bench presses. I've seen small guys rip through big tough guys with muscles bulging. I've seen muscle heads cream the stick boys.. like I said, strength helps, but just because you're stronger than the opposition, doesn't mean you won't get your ass kicked.



can we do it Top Gun brief style?

I was just elaborating~! :thumbsup:

---------- Post added at 12:41 PM ---------- Previous post was at 12:40 PM ----------

Sissy.

To what? You wanna fight about it?!

Agreed. i havn't been in that many, but i've been in enough. won some, lost some.

Hey, I got classes coming up where I need to be able to run and GI Joe things. I'm being practical.

You're still on my list, Will.

I'm a lover, not a fighter.

it's a fight, not a muscular pose down.

fighting a stranger makes it even better. if i were fighting MMA, i would want the weak guy. street fighting has no rules. if i break a strong guy's kneecap by kicking it, it wont matter how much he can bench press. no matter how strong you are, a blow to the solar plexus will knock the wind out of you and you will just stand there, trying to breathe, while i hit you repeatedly.

sure, you can get in line right behind Crompsin. Just be prepared. he likes to bend over and "tie his boot strings" far too often.

Oh my god you guys are completely missing the point. ALL THINGS EQUAL, if guy X with Y skill level could benchpress 40 pounds in the past, or could benchpress 225 pounds now, which one would you rather fight???

sorry what?

I failed algebra.




j/k. No I totally see your point. it's just that in a street fight there is never "all things equal". NEVER. ;)

but to answer your question, I'd rather fight the guy who could benchpress 225. Just because I want to look cool.

Why serve a man a fist, when you can serve him a Guinness?

no, i got your point, strong guy is definitely more of a threat and a harder person to fight than a weak guy. i would not fight chuck liddel, or genki sudo, and not just because they can bench press 225 pounds, but because they can also fight. but some assclown at the gym who just works out and has no fight training? yeah, i'll fight him. but i wouldn't fight the weak guy, cause he is weak, and that would make me a bully.

---------- Post added at 02:06 PM ---------- Previous post was at 02:05 PM ----------

some men do not deserve the sublime awesomeness that is a Guinness. that's why.

umm because some of us prefer not to chew our alcohol?

In first grade, my schoolmates in Detroit didn't like the neighborhood I was from and so they ran up one time and hit the tetherball as hard as they could around the pole so it'd nail me in the head. After it did, and after I tried to run away, they chased after me and slammed me into the red-brick wall of the school. I think the kids went to the principal's office, but that was it..

In second grade, a bunch of kids didn't like that I had a crush on Kerry Winters, so they would chase me around the playground until they caught me, buried me in the gravel beneath the jungle gym (despite my struggle) and then took turns jumping from the bars down on top of me. On this occasion, a few were suspended.

In sixth grade, a bunch of cowboys from the neighborhood got on the school bus, and angered by my choice of seating (the back of the bus), seized the opportunity to beat the shit out of me and slam my head against the (luckily) plastic windows of the bus until it cracked. It was a HUGE oval crack like a baseball hitting a car windshield. The bus driver came back and asked what happened, and I told them that she'd turned sharply and I must've fallen backwards into the window.

In seventh grade, a bunch of kids on the schoolbus were playing with sharp rocks they'd found, and one reached around and sliced my arm with it. It left a very deep but thin cut along my arm, and I just held it shut until I got home. I hid it from my dad because I didn't want to get in trouble. I still have the scar on my forearm.

Again in seventh grade, some kid who lived in my neighborhood but didn't like me or my sister challenged me to fight after school in the parking lot. I avoided him the rest of the day and got on the schoolbus early. Everyone on the bus heard about it and called me a pussy, but I just sat there until the bus pulled away. After that day, everyone forgot about it entirely.

In ninth grade, I hit 6'5 and by tenth I was 6'6".. no one bullied me anymore, even as rail-thin as I was. High school was bliss in terms of physical intimidation. So yea, I guess I wish I had stories of how I just obliterated the guy who tried to start trouble with me, but that'd be rather unfair considering what ACTUALLY happened every time.

Pansies :p



I've never been in a fight myself, but I've done my share of breaking them up. I think the best was on one of my karaoke nights. I was sitting at the bar, looking up towards the front. There were two guys talking at a table off to the side-- one was sitting, one was standing. They didn't look angry, but they looked...intense, I guess, would be a good way to describe it. I kept watching them without really knowing why.

Suddenly, the guy standing took a swing. It happened so suddenly, and no one else was really paying attention. Without even thinking about it, I leapt out of my chair, jumped on the guy's back, and started dragging him backwards. He was struggling, of course, and I lost my balance, so down we went (pretty sure I hit my head on a bar stool.) He was trying to get up, but I held on (which was NOT easy...this was a big guy), and I said something to the effect that I wasn't letting him up until he calmed down.

Finally, after a few minutes, someone lifted him off of me, and was entirely surprised to find me underneath. I was helped to my feet, patted on the back for jumping in, and got a bunch of free beer. Good times.

The fight I got into in the 6th grade, which I lost spectacularly, is what set me on the martial arts road. Went down to the chain tae kwon do(rk) school 2 days after, they taught me some stuff, and the next time someone picked a fight with me, I was ready to throw down.

.. After I extracted myself from the trash can, I realized that the crap national chain karate schools teach really doesn't apply much in a real fight where there isn't a referee, and there aren't any rules. So I joined instead a mixed martial arts dojo headed up by a former SEAL who pulled in techniques from primarily ryuku kenpo, kali, muay thai, and western boxing.

I kept a low profile in school so it was my freshman year before someone decided to pick a fight again, trying to grab my hand and force it into a belt sander in industrial tech. He ended up with a broken rib, two black eyes, a nosebleed, and a limp that lasted for nearly two weeks. After that, I kind of had the reputation as "that nut who'll flip out on you if you mess with him," and no one tried to fight me anymore.

I stay out of the unsavory parts of town, except when work forces me there (and trust me, don't ever attack a photog. Our tripods weigh about 20 pounds, and we're usually in a bad mood when we're shooting on the street ;) ) so I haven't gotten into any physical confrontations since.

Ah, poor shakran. You were victimized by the "martial arts as a fun and safe sport" trend. I'm glad you found some good schools.

Three times since I was 18

Once because a fight broke out in a pub and a guy shoved my girlfriend face first into a wall trying to get into the action. I grabbed him from behind, span him into the opposite wall and hit him twice as he tried to recover his balance.

Once when walking out of a club. A guy was mad drunk and was shoving past people. He knocked into me and I shoved him back. He swore at me and shoved his hand at me and caught me in the eye. I lost it and chased him outside, kicked him over and then hit when he got back up

Once when two guys swore at me an insulted me in the street. I think I talked about that incident before.

__

The first time is the only time I can really say I acted with any sense of honour, but in a way it was the worst feeling. I hit the guy hard enough that the glass in the face of my watch shattered/

i've won and lost

I had a female sensei that weighed about 118. I am a plus 250 guy. I would not want to be in a real fight with her if my life depended on it (which it would).

I've won all the real fights I've been in. I don't think it's something to be proud of and the stories are not especially entertaining so I'll spare you all. :)

As far as sport fighting, I've had to tap or have something break plenty of times, I've passed out from lack of air from chokes, but have yet to be knocked out. It will happen I'm sure...

I wouldn't have responded to this thread except you got some kudos for this, so I felt the need to offer the opposite view: I think YOU were in the wrong here and are the jackass, not the dumb-ass anti-Semite. He was just a stupid guy popping off at the mouth. You were the one committing a crime and with formal training should have especially known that. I hope you have learned this in the time that has passed.

Used to work security, so yeah, have been in a fair few. The nastiest was against this behemoth street guy who tried to stab me. I was very strong back then, squatting 500 regularly, and after the getting the knife away from him, I ended up laying into this guy with everything I had after all the usual security/police training stuff (joint locks, nerve pinches, etc) didn't work. I pounded away on him and eventually I hit him so hard he flew up into the air, went over a marble bench, the marble bench landed square on top of him ... and then he popped straight back up with a smile on his face ready to rock and roll.

Twas then that I called for back-up!

Hahaha reminds me of horror stories security workers at Sears in my home town would tell me over coffee. One time a guy vaulted a fence with a shopping cart. Another time a girl pretended to be pregant (with stolen goods) and yelled rape until some random guy came and punch the security gaurd in the face hoping to defend the screaming chick; he felt sheepish.

My favorite is the one Jason (security guard) tells about a guy who stole some underwear and was stopped outside. Out of nowhere he goes from 0 to 60 and pulls a needle and takes a swipe at Jay. He had those metal-protected gloves (not sure the proper name). Dodged a few of these until the guy got tired and he kicked him in the knee and punched him in the nose. The security tape of it is hilarious hahaha.

When I was in preschool I stabbed a kid in the back. We were playing power rangers and he picked up the stick I wanted to use (for our zwords; yes, zwords with a Z), so I took it from him and stabbed him with it. In second grad Tim Hall, who was big in a fat sort of way, knocked me down but I was able to keep him off by laying on my back and kicking at him every time he got close. In fifth grade I fought him again. He hit me in the side of the head, which hurt like a motherfucker. I staggered back a few feet and my glasses flew off. I tore into him after that, and we both went away bleeding and bruised. In sixth grade my old man and his wife enrolled me and my stepbrother in karate (GKK), which was stupid because it enabled us to protect ourselves whenever they tried hitting us. They usually won in the end (225lb 40yo vs 80-90lb twelve year old), but we usually got some licks in.

A few years ago (after I quit karate and before I started working out) I was mugged by two guys on my way home from school. There was a guy on a bike and a guy on foot. The guy on foot just walked up beside me and stuck his hand in my pocket. I removed it, and he punched me in the face. He punched me again in the exact same place (didn't hurt either time), and I remembered some of my training and roundkicked him in the ribs. I heard something crack, and I took off like a bat out of hell. I couldn't really throw a punch because his homeboy had pulled my bookbag back, so it was like my arms were being pulled together from behind, and my elbows were nearly locked (I had a jacket on as well, which didn't help).

I haven't been in a fight since then, but I'm alot stronger now, and I remember some of my old training, at least on a thoeretical level anyway. Plus, I'm a dirty fighter (crotch, eyes, ears, throat, knees;it's all good. Rebar? Shovel? Beer bottle? Eight inch work knife? Ditto.)

I've worked as a bouncer on the side for about five years now. Nothing like fighting and getting paid to do it. (although I'd prefer if people weren't douches and just left when they were asked)

He who fights dirtiest wins.

Been in a few tussles myself, but nothing serious. Once in Jr. High one of the schools numerous and varied examples of Junior White Trash decided to go through my locker, so I brained him with my baseball glove. The glove had a baseball in it. We went at it for about two minutes before we got broken up, lots of bruises but no blood or anything broken. That came later.

The next year I got into a few scrapes, but nothing like that first little dance.

Sophmore year of high-school I had a classmate who thought he was Adam Sandler, even kinda looked like him. Dumb as dirt, but tried to be the "class clown", usually by insulting or sexually molesting people. In my case, he came up to me while I was changing for Phys. Ed and dangled his cock and balls in my face. Well, I wore a belt back then that didn't have a buckle, just two big brass rings that you laced the leather through. Alltogether it weighed about half a pound, maybe more. I just wrapped the belt around my hand and left six inches or so swinging loose, and then whipped those two brass rings right into this kids' balls. I have never heard a sound like that, before or since, but this kid quit his little "prison yard" games after that, at least with me.

Junior year the same kid who'd gone through my locker back in 6th Grade decided he wanted a rematch. By this point I'd been wrestling for 4 years and had lost all patience with his sort of chest-thumping stupidity; when he tried to "body check" me and do the "What? What?" Cartman Dance, I put him in a standing wrestling hold called the "Barnyard" and threw him over my midsection and onto the concrete floor: we landed together with my shoulder in the center of his chest. I don't know for sure if I broke anything clean, but something went -pop- when we hit, and he damned sure wasn't breathing right for a few minutes.

Those were the last fights I was ever in, and hopefully it'll stay that way. I had a slight scare with a couple of dipshit Czech skinheads while living in Prague, but they backed off when it became obvious that I wasn't food.