Physical Altercations

[Brewster McCloud]

Ever been in a fight, as an adult? I only have once, and it was one of the worst experiences of my life. As I was swiftly wrestled to the ground and blows rained upon me, I realised a couple of things: I can't throw a punch for toffee, and I was a complete idiot for instigating it rather than talking about the issue like a rational human being. I've also been assaulted just for walking down the street in Edinburgh and committing the heinous sin of laughing with a friend - that time I managed a headbutt in response, but still woke up the next day with quite an intense sense of shame and confusion. 

[Your Fight Site]

Not a fight per se.

Darlington has quite a lot of gypsies. One day I was walking home from school (so would have been 14–15) through a park. Saw a group of about a dozen or so ahead so crossed over to another path, but they did the same. “Shit” goes through my head. They then form a circle around me and one of them starts talking. “Can you fight?” “You hard, mate?” There isn’t really any right answer when you have 10-plus lads looking to give someone a pasting for laughs.

One did punch me from the side/behind. Quick bat on the cheek which I took as a warning/feel me out since I was still standing and my jaw wasn’t shattered. Luckily, a guy with a dog passed and yelled “What’s going on?” and which point they started walking off, shouting things like, “He’s done things with my sister!” “We’ll get you later!” I took a different—longer—route home for about a month after that.

I don’t know who that guy was, but forever thankful as I can only imagine I would have been on the floor in a bloody heap after a good kicking two minutes later.

[Brewster McCloud]

3 minutes ago, Your Fight Site said:

Not a fight per se.

Darlington has quite a lot of gypsies. One day I was walking home from school (so would have been 14–15) through a park. Saw a group of about a dozen or so ahead so crossed over to another path, but they did the same. “Shit” goes through my head. They then form a circle around me and one of them starts talking. “Can you fight?” “You hard, mate?” There isn’t really any right answer when you have 10-plus lads looking to give someone a pasting for laughs.

One did punch me from the side/behind. Quick bat on the cheek which I took as a warning/feel me out since I was still standing and my jaw wasn’t shattered. Luckily, a guy with a dog passed and yelled “What’s going on?” and which point they started walking off, shouting things like, “He’s done things with my sister!”

I don’t know who that guy was, but forever thankful as I can only imagine I would have been on the floor in a bloody heap after a good kicking two minutes later.

I'm fascinated by stories like this. In your case, according to Derren Brown, the best way to respond to a question like "You hard, mate?" is to give a non-sequitur as it results in an adrenaline dump for the aggressor. The example he gives is "the wall outside my house is 4 feet tall". Of course, this only worked for him one time, but I find it really interesting nonetheless. 

[IANdrewDiceClay]

53 minutes ago, Your Fight Site said:

 and which point they started walking off, shouting things like, “He’s done things with my sister!”

The plot thickens.

[chokeout]

There was a thread on here years ago that included someone saying they won a fight with a super kick. I hope it's still in the gold thread

[Chest Rockwell]

My first thought too, @chokeout . Was really hoping we'd get some more stories of that nature... I didn't want to jinx it by mentioning it!

[chokeout]

The thread still exists!

[Cod Eye]

That thread is hilarious. Some of the bullshit is of Hogan levels...

[IANdrewDiceClay]

I always get into fights. Usually just walk into pubs and say "fakin' right you ca-nt!" and everyone runs in fear. Then I take home all their wives and disappoint them sexually.

[Otto Dem Wanz]

1 hour ago, IANdrewDiceClay said:

I always get into fights. Usually just walk into pubs and say "fakin' right you ca-nt!" and everyone runs in fear. Then I take home all their wives and disappoint them sexually.

[HarmonicGenerator]

There was this one time...

I was walking down a little backstreet, shuffling my feet a little, staring at the most amazing pair of sunglasses I'd recently acquired. I look up to see a friend of mine approaching from the other end of the alley. "Yo", he said, holding out a small paper bundle. "One week's pay". I took a short breath. "It's the best I could do", he said, throwing the bundle - which turned out to be a wad of paper money - at the ground just to my left. I couldn't catch it due to the cardboard box I was holding in my left hand, but I looked down as it landed. Quickly, panicked, I put my sunglasses on. He looked okay. Nothing wrong with him, thank goodness. It had been a bad day.

But he turned to walk away! "WAIT!" I yelled at him. He raised his left hand, back turned to me initially before completing a 180 rotation to point directly at me. "Hey! You better find yourself someplace to hide and keep praying nobody ever finds you," he cried, walking towards me menacingly.

"Try these on", I urged him, shaking the sunglasses in my right hand and reaching out for some commonality with someone I hoped I could trust. I walked towards him. The point became a hand gesture that indicated 'stop'. "Look, you crazy mother," he said. "Put these on", I repeated, moving ever closer to him with the sunglasses. "HEY!" he yelled, his body language become more closed as he pointed again. "Stay away from me". But I was in close proximity to him now. I continued to advance. 

"I'm telling you, ya dumb son of a bitch-" was as much as I got out before BOOM! Out of nowhere his right hand punched me right in the face! My head snapped back, my hair flopping with the rapid motion, back and forth. I staggered. Took a step back. Put my hand to my nose, an expression of shock on my face. No blood, it seemed, so I lowered my left hand from my nose and looked at him, open-mouthed. "I'm trying to save," I began, "you, and your family's life."

The guy was having none of it. This time he advanced on me, the hand that punched me aggressively pointing now. "You couldn't even save your own!"

That was it! I couldn't take it any more. I reared back with my own right hand and clocked him right back! I connected with his face and he fell back, crashing into one of the big municipal bins that was in the alley. Within a second, he was up, a little befuddled, but facing me again. I had by this time adopted a brawling stance. He gave the backpack he'd been wearing a swift kick out of the way - it had fallen off when I punched him.

"I'm giving you a choice", I said, already a little out of breath. "Either put on these glasses, or start eating that trashcan". I'd be lying if I said my threats weren't modelled on mid-1980s wrestling heels. He circled me. "Not this year," he said. "Okay", I replied, nodding slowly as I began to understand the situation we'd got ourselves into. "Alright". I threw the sunglasses to the side - this had gone beyond the sunglasses now.

We continued to pace and circle each other. "Okay". "Come on". His arms were raised in the manner of someone experienced in fighting. Fists clenched, he said again, "come on!" I took a moment, wiped my hands on my blue flannel shirt... and I swung with my right hand!

Missed! The guy ducked, and hit me with two quick shots to the gut. I no-sold, but a left to the face staggered me, and the follow-up right knocked me down. I fell heavily on my right side but just managed to get a hand out to help break the fall. As he stood over me, he moved over to my left, and I got back to my feet, trying to keep myself facing him. I sighed, or maybe it was more of a grunt of exertion. He went for another right, but this time I ducked. I got in a right hand of my own to his midsection, and then an incredibly quick one-two of a left then a right floored him! 

He was down, his arse sticking in the air in a somewhat undignified manner. He quickly got to his feet and stumbled away from me shaking his head. "I don't wanna fight ya," I told him as he swung with another right hand. I slapped it away. "I don't wanna fight ya," I repeated as he tried again, and again I slapped his punch away. "Stop it", I told him as he tried a third time, yelling "NO!" as he did so. I was annoyed now, so I clobbered him with a huge right of my own that connected, sending him reeling, and I let out a growl of frustration as he doubled over. 

I picked up the sunglasses and approached calmly behind him - probably a mistake in retrospect. "Put on the glasses", I almost pleaded, but by then the fucker had lured me in! He stunned me with a backfist as he stood up and turned around, but before I could stumble back, he grabbed my neck with his left hand and connected with a massive right hand that knocked me down. I quickly got up, and tried to roll away but he was on me, and landed another right that kept me down longer. He stood there, gasping for breath, his emotional state a mix of fear, adrenaline and, possibly, a little pride. 

I was lying flat on the ground. Legs straight, arms outstretched. Some would think I was done, but no. As I recuperated, trying to get my bearings, he walked over and stood, a looming presence above me. I tried to lift my head... I admit, I laughed to myself, then winced. Just a misunderstanding between friends. I reached out with my left arm for him to help me up. He grasped me by the hand and pulled me to my feet. "Man", he said, "I told you. I didn't wanna be in-" but I didn't catch the rest, because the bastard suckerpunched me with another right! I landed badly that time, rolling over as I fell. He was circling me again, came round to my head, and grabbed hold as I tried to stand. I cut him off with a punch to the stomach. "Dirty motherfucker!" he exclaimed, reaching back over for me. But this time I'd suckered him in and stood up quickly, the top of my head getting him in the chin. He was disadvantaged. I landed a full on headbutt and he went down, slowly.

Panting, I stood there, pacing, and angrily swiped the sunglasses from the ground. I took his right hand and forced him back to his feet. It wasn't gentle when I made him stand by a blue car in the alleyway and implored him to "take a look". I pointed to the sunglasses, which I'd forced into his hand. "Put 'em on." He looked at me in disbelief. He took a second. I was running out of patience. He gestured towards me with them, as if to say "these?" And he dropped them! Not only that, the cunt was going to stamp on them and smash them!

"NO!" I yelled. Another mistake. In my panic over the sunglasses being smashed, I let my guard down and bent over to rescue them. That was the opening he needed. He grabbed me by the back of the head and the same foot that was going to destroy the sunglasses quickly moved upwards and kicked me right in the face. I went down in pain. He picked up the sunglasses again and threw them against the far wall as I looked on, rage in my face and the knees of my jeans black with dirt. He started to walk away, to the end of the lane by which he'd entered. "Fucker", he muttered under his breath. He wasn't walking well, though, there was a definite stumbling and hints of a limp.

I rose to my knees, then my feet, and CHARGED for him. "AAAAAARGH!" I screamed as I grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him down to the ground with me. He was on his back, I was on top of him, and I caught him by the collar and wrenched him back up. I laid in a right hand punch to the gut, then another, then one to the face. Blood coming from my nose now, I was on a mission. A man possessed. He tried to gain some purchase leaning against a wall but he was met with my right hand to the gut. I attempted another right to the face, but he fought back, blocking it with both forearms before using them to hit something not unlike a Polish Hammer to the bottom of my diaphragm. He grabbed my head and would you believe he got me in a fucking side headlock!

I struggled against it - my right arm was free and tried to gain purchase on his head as I let out a kind of guttural shriek of exertion. An open-handed left to his stomach tipped his head back, and while he didn't release the hold, it gave me the opportunity to use all the strength I'd acquired in my career as a wandering labourer to lift him off his feet. He tried to find a foothold on the wall we were facing, but that only served to my advantage, because, yes, UKFF, I HIT HIM WITH A BLOODY BACK SUPLEX! And yet - he still didn't let go of the damn headlock! We struggled against each other for a second, my cries becoming increasingly animalistic - AND THEN THE FUCKER BIT ME! HE WAS BITING MY LEFT HAND! I threw him off and he rolled to my left as I clutched my wrist, disgust etched on my face. This was getting dirty. 

Neither of us were on our feet, but he got to his knees first and dropped me back down to my back with a right. He hit another but it only served to rile me up more. I managed to take out his legs and bring him back down to the ground, quickly pouncing and adopting a mounted position, grabbing his collar again and slamming his head on the concrete like that rubbish catfight move they used to give all the Divas in the SmackDown games. Our mutual screams grew louder and louder as we had duelling chokeholds on each other, but I, straddling him, was surely in the more beneficial position. I'm ashamed to say at this point I tried for the old 'thumb in the eye'. I almost got there for a couple of seconds but he threw me off and I rolled to his left. Within a second he was on me, virtually lying on top of me, and got in a nasty Lesnar-style knee to the groin. I let out a cry of sheer anguish. He kneed me again, and again, and two more times for good measure.

As he stood up, I could barely breathe, but his leg was intertwined with my own and I was able to employ a drop-toehold style takedown. He fell face first, and I, clutching my lower stomach, crawled a step or so away where I found a weapon. This wasn't just a fistfight anymore. I had a wooden 2x4. He was getting to his feet when I swung it, with such momentum that my body span 360 degrees. I didn't connect, though, he was able to jump back, arms outstretched, to avoid it. He was on the defensive here, majorly, trying to find a way to dodge it. I swung it again and barely missed as he ducked to the right and leaned against the brown car that was next to the blue car. He looked down to his right, and rapidly armed himself with a brown glass bottle. Madness in his eyes, and in mine if I'm honest. I went for him again, and again he dodged, but this time my efforts smashed in the rear windscreen of the brown car.

Shit. I knew I'd gone too far now. I dropped the 2x4, shock and panic on my face. "Oh, man", I said, "I'm sorry". "YOU F-" he cried, understandably upset, and he chucked the bottle away, its glass tinkling as it shattered. "FUCK!"

I couldn't help it. I started to laugh! Third mistake, because the fucker LAUNCHED himself at me, hurtling into me at full speed and we both went tumbling over the blue car onto the ground, rolling a couple of times and landing with him on top of me. He hurled me to my feet, held me against the bonnet of the blue car and laid in three huge right hands, swinging his whole arm as he connected with my face each time. The momentum must have carried him away a bit as I was able to get out of that bad spot, take him into an admittedly not-quite-orthodox rear-naked choke, and move him backwards, both of us on our feet. "Put, the glasses, on!" I yelled, holding him by the throat now. "Put 'em on!" The twat responded by stamping on my foot, picking me up into the air and hitting a picture perfect John Cena-esque backdrop-slam-powerbomb-thingy! I was done for. My eyes closed as I lay there, beaten. He staggered to the wall, picked up the sunglasses, and shoved them on my chest. "Fuck you", he told me, breathing heavily. I tried to swat him away but I was done.

He walked away. I slowly, slowly got to my feet as he stood, in great pain, leaning against a bit of wall. I went over to him. I wasn't done. Right hand punch to the kidney! He laid in an elbow and a couple of punches of his own, but I got him in position and, with all my remaining strength, landed a gutwrench suplex! Panting, panting, I basically pinned him like in a wrestling match and forced the sunglasses onto his head. I dragged him to his feet, holding him in front of me, and showed him.

"Look! Look at 'em! They're everywhere!" He looked at me, fear on his face. He knew what was going on now.

[Keith Houchen]

Is that like one of those things where someone wrote a synopsis for Warren G's Regulate for wiki and it got taken down or something?  Maybe if I hadn't tapped out after the first two paragraphs I might be a bit more the wiser.

[Rey_Piste]

11 minutes ago, Keith Houchen said:

Is that like one of those things where someone wrote a synopsis for Warren G's Regulate for wiki and it got taken down or something?  Maybe if I hadn't tapped out after the first two paragraphs I might be a bit more the wiser.

It's the fight scene from They Live, at least I think that's what it is from the first paragraph.

As for physical altercations, I used to work security, so at least one a weekend for almost 5 years. I honestly spent more time picking up drunks and handing them off to the filth than actually fighting.

[Keith Houchen]

Just now, Rey_Piste said:

It's the fight scene from They Live, at least I think that's what it is from the first paragraph.

Cheers, Rey.  And upvoted for calling them the filth.

[Joe Blog]

I once had a small scuffle with a lad a year older than me. I was 9 and was defending my friend who was 7. He punched me in the stomach and winded me. I cried and ran home to tell my mum. 

Fin.