I was a small kid from a poor family that got bullied quite a bit up to and including high school. I did not fight back much until my freshman year of high school when I completely exploded on a kid who was not going to quit until I fought him. Long story short, he picked 2 fights in 2 years and I defeated him both times. The first time, he only got one swing at me during the fight. The remainder of the time I pummelled him while he curled up into a tight ball trying to avoid my punches. He did not look very good the next day, but he did not bother me until the following year.
That next year, he tried his luck again. He had the larger guys keep me on the bus until I was the last one off. When the bus left, they forced me into a circle of guys with my opponent in the middle. I did not want to fight him again. I was not fearful of him, but I did a number on him the last time and I was kinda worried that I might really hurt him this time. Well, my fears were for nothing. He swung and missed and my counter punch landed landed 3-4 inches beyond where I had intended and I broke my right hand on his head. The force was enough to knock him down and keep him down for a minute or so. He eventually got back up and I had to finish the fight left handed. I am not a southpaw and I was worried this was going to be a long, painful event.
For whatever reason (maybe my left handed jabs confused him...they were pretty sloppy), he started kicking at me. Back then, kicking in a fight was a good way to get you laughed at, however since he started using his feet, albeit poorly, I did the same. I have very strong legs and hips, so my kicks carried considerably more power than his, so he was hurting quickly. He was so focused on my legs I was able to slip in a couple of lefts that finally put him down and made him so disoriented that he was unable to stand without help. I ended the fight and walked home.
I never got into any other fights that I can remember after that. I had some close calls, but cooler heads prevailed. I did not and do not like to fight. I do not think it solves anything. But I always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I would find myself around someone who had an axe to grind and I was an easy target: small,lightweight, glasses, poor, and rather ugly. I usually was able to talk my way out, or get away when I needed to. What amazes me is the number of times I have just faced my opponent and stood my ground and had them walk away. I guess that is what bullies do.. I have had several instances where that has happened and I have never had to throw a punch. I was at a concern when a guy kept falling into me and I just turned and stared at him with a stone face. He never touched me again. Once the neighborhood bully started pushing me and instead of trying to avoid it, I pushed him back. I stood there with my fists balled up in a relaxed fighting stance that a friend showed me and the guy walked away.
During the time I have been married (to my current wife...the love of my life), I have been the protector at least two times. Both times we were in downtown Durham, NC and both times I believe the men were homeless. One guy tried to get into the car where my wife was sitting and I convinced him to leave her along. The other time a man stumbled out of a shadowy alley and demanded money. I did not have a wallet on me an my wife did not have her purse. We did not see a weapon in his hand, but we were both nervous. I got between him and my wife and told her to lock herself in the car and call 911. I was just hoping he did not have a partner working with him lurking about. He didn't and the encounter ended without any violence. I was relieved about that. Street fights scare me.
My early childhood had its share of little fights. One boy who was younger than me thought he would try to exude his dominance over me by shoving me around. That fight ended when I dragged him through some bushes in my yard that had briars in them. When I need to be, I can be very creative.
In my mid-teens, a couple of the guys in the neighborhood began watching my movements, when I would leave and when I would return. I noticed this and started changing my routine. It took me a while but I found out he thought I was fooling around with a girl he liked. Now that in itself is odd because he would date girls that I had gone out with previously. He did that a couple of times. AS a matter of fact, after I was divorced and remarried, a girl he just broke up with asked me out. I knew her from high school and the years had been kind to her, but I thought it best to stay away. We were not kids anymore and he has a pretty short fuse.
I am not sure why fighting was on my mind today, but it is. I am not feeling particularly violent.
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