my first fist fight was with my uncle when I was four, just to prove the lesson that there is always someone bigger, stronger, and better than you, but you never back down, never give up.
my first REAL fist fight, where I actually stood a chance, was in third grade. I was playing wiffleball and this kid walked over and hit me with one of those short fat wiffleball bats. it didnt hurt, but I had the long skinny one and just turned and beat him up side his head with it with all the power of a slugger (before my hockey days and basketball days, I was a little leaguer).
So he fell back, then go up, a tooth knocked out and a scratch on his face, his eye puffing up. he charged at me and before I could swing the bat again, he tackled me and knocked me down, and the bat away from me. He punched me in the face (this was before I had glasses, so it didnt affect me as much), then I punched back. then the fight just turned into us exchanging blows, though mine became increasingly more violent and devestating, while his were becoming more sluggish.
It only finally ended when we rolled on the concrete step that was in front of the door so you didnt step on dirt and bring it inside. I had his head downa nd he hit it hard of the step, dazing him and I punched him, causing his skull to crack and him to black out.
Parents were called, towels were put on the back of his head bloody noses plugged up, bandages put on scratches and salves put on bruises. His parents didnt want to press charges cause tehy know MY parents,a nd both agreed that this would be a good growing up experience for us.
the final count was
me:
- black eye
- bloody nose
- multiple bruises
- two small cuts on my cheek
- cut on the back of my head from the first hit of the bat.
him:
- black eye
- bloody nose
- cracked skull
- three missing teeth
- one tooth needing a crown
- several cuts on his face/arms.
...
in the end, we became really great friends and still laugh about it.
