Originally Posted by frazod (Post 3510549)

I've been in lots of fights. A few I've won big time, a few were bloody draws, and most of the rest didn't amount to much. But there was that one time.... :grr:

Senior year. Got in a shoving match at lunch with a guy who was picking on one of my friends (really small guy who never fought). The bully in question was well hated, and a fight between us was set for Friday night at the fairgrounds. Fights like this are prime entertainment in small towns, and a good chunk of the high school showed up to watch. Prior to the fight, I listened to Eye of the Tiger (this was 1983) over and over to get psyched out. A friend picked me up. My friend convinced me that I needed to relax (MORON) and handed me a pint of Southern Comfort and a joint. I hit both doob and bottle hard, and was completely fucked up when we reached the fairgrounds. My friend's van door slides open, I stagger out amid a cloud of pot smoke, take a swing at the guy, miss by a mile, fall over, and then get beat bloody in front of EVERYBODY. I was lucky I didn't lose any teeth, but I had two black eyes, and bruised and blooded everything on my face.

My friends cleaned me up as best they could and dumped me off at home. I was still drunk and high, and scratched the hell out of the front door trying to open it. Finally, I got the key in, turned the knob, pushed open the door and fell flat on my face on the living room floor. When I opened my eyes, I saw my stepmom's toes in front of my face. I looked up at her and said "AW, fuck."

So, on top of getting a humiliating asskicking in front of the entire school by a complete asshole, I got grounded for two weeks for getting drunk and fighting (luckily no one detected the pot, or I'm sure I would have got a second beating that night).

The good news - apparently the bully wasn't particularly impressive in beating my semi-conscious body, and somebody else kicked his ass shortly thereafter. He quit bothering people. I also challenged him to a rematch, which he declined. Further, I didn't make excuses - I took my lumps and post-fight abuse like a man. So I learned two important life lessons - never fight when you're drunk/high, and if you get your ass kicked, be honest about it.

Originally Posted by stevieray (Post 9783405)

people today tend to live vicariously through their kids athletics....and let's not pretend that kids haven't been exposed to violence in our culture.

didn't a ref just recently die from an attack?

Originally Posted by loochy (Post 9783416)

This reminds me of an incident that occurred back when I used to coach little league up in Canada.

I was an assistant coach and for the most part I was in charge of teaching the kids how to hit. I was really good at giving them instructions that I could relate to; in fact I was so good that they started calling me "Hitman."

Anyhow, there was this constant loudmouth dad. I think his name was Shawn or Michael or something like that. He was always generally disrespectful and he thought he was God's gift to women with his long lair. All of the other parents hated him too. He would parade around and call himself "Sexy Boy" and talk about inappropriate subjects with his friend Hunter.

Well, one day he took it too far and started disrespecting Canada (he was from the USA). I told him that I'd had enough of his crap and to not mess with the Hitman. He challenged me to throw down. I went to take off my awesome pink shaded sunglasses (it was the mid 90s) and hand them to one of the kids so they wouldn't get broken in the fight. Well, when I turned around Shawn grabbed a folding chair and swung it at me. I happened to see him out of the corner of my eye so I had time to duck. While he was off balance from his miss, I gave him a quick kick to the stomach. As he was doubled over from the kick, I landed a quick uppercut that sent him sprawling. I hastily climbed the dugout fence and jumped down on him with a flying elbow. This kept him down, but he was still mouthing off. I decided to apply a move my dad Stu taught me. It was a leglock we called "the Sharpshooter." I got the Sharpshooter locked in. After about 5 seconds, Shawn had had enough. He tapped out and vowed to never come back. All of the other parents in the stands were cheering me. I reminded Shawn that "I am the best there is, the best there was, and the best there ever will be." As soon as I said that, the announcer guy played a cool heavy metal song over the loudspeakers.

After that debacle, I moved on to another less successful little league. I retired quickly afterward though and I was never able to replicate the success I had in the original little league.

Originally Posted by 'Hamas' Jenkins (Post 9783427)

He leaves out the part where he kicks the ass of the Little League Commissioner after said fight.

Originally Posted by Sully (Post 9783429)

So you got into the altercation with the parent outside of the view of the boys?
How did he get there?

Originally Posted by stevieray (Post 9783405)

people today tend to live vicariously through their kids athletics....and let's not pretend that kids haven't been exposed to violence in our culture.

didn't a ref just recently die from an attack?

Originally Posted by frazod (Post 9783409)

Here it is:

http://www.chiefsplanet.com/BB/showp...9&postcount=23

Originally Posted by mikeyis4dcats. (Post 9783388)

personally, I think you should resign your coaching position. you are not suitable to be a role model for young children.

Originally Posted by Silock (Post 9783057)

I can't believe that grown men still get into fights, let alone at a youth sporting event.