When I was in the ninth grade we had a new kid come into my class near the end of the school year. he was a tall, good-looking blonde guy with an athletic muscular build but he didn't play any sports that I knew of. He took a seat to the right of me and seemed to be rather quiet. One day I got to school early and when I walked into the classroom this kid asked me if I knew what a Charlie Horse was. Before I had a chance to respond he grabbed my left arm and pinched me on the forearm by grabbing skin and muscle between two knuckles. It hurt and my arm swelled up.
The next morning when I got to class he laughed and grabbed my arm again but this time I pulled away from him. He then grabbed me by my shoulders and kneed me in my left thing. Needless to say it hurt so bad I limped for most of the day.
The next day when I got to class he reach he grabbed me by my shoulders again and when I saw him pull his leg back to knee me again I shoved him. He lost his balance and fell backwards through a couple rows of desks. He was embarrassed and that made him mad to be embarrassed. He told me he would be waiting for me behind the gym when I got out of school for the day.
I was hoping he had changed his mind or forgotten about it. I really didn't want to fight him as he was 10 inches taller and probably outweighed me by 40 or 50 pounds and there wasn't an ounce of fat on the kid anywhere. Unfortunately for me I walked home from school and I had to walk past the gym on my way home. There was no way around that route home so I was really hoping he wasn't there. Well not only was he there but he invited lots of people to view my beat down. I tried to ignore hem but after being taunted I knew he would never leave me alone if I backed down plus I would leave myself open to ridicule from some of the other kids. As I walked towards him I handed my school books to a friend and took off my shirt so it wouldn't get ripped and/or soiled.
He stood there waiting for me with his fists clenched and I walked up to him he said something like how he was going to teach me a lesson. Before he could utter another word I hit him as hard as I could aiming for that sweet spot where the nose and eye meet. I believe he was more surprised than hurt and he swung back at me but he only connected with my left shoulder. It felt like he broke it as this guy was incredibly strong.
With guys taller than me I like to take them off their feet as it makes things more even but this dude was just too stout for that move. All I could do was strike out at him as fast as I could in hopes of delaying the inevitable. To my great surprise after the third or fourth time I hit him he started to cry and just turned and walked away.
No we didn't become friends He did move to another part of the room and never spoke to me or bothered me again. neither did anyone else.
I've since learned that there are much better ways to handle problems rather than physically but in the neighborhood I lived in until I was twelve fighting was a way of life. It had nothing to do with getting mad and settling differences but it seems it was just for the sport or fun of it. I learned early on that the one who threw the first blow had the best chance of winning and taking your opponent by surprise up the odds in my favor a lot more. If you were bigger than me, and if you were my age or older than you were, I had to find ways to better my odds. The older I got the bigger difference between me and others became. Fortunately for me I was athletic and wiry and fast and I was never the type of person who gave up. I don't care how much I hurt or how big the disadvantage I was going to keep coming at you until you gave up or some one broke the fight up.
I remember a high school friend of mine named Buddy D. I never knew if his name was really Buddy or if that was just a nickname but we were good friends for the last few years of high school. Even so I was surprised when he said he was going to the same college I was going too. In fact, he said, he wanted to be my roommate.
Well we hadn't been in school but just a few days when Buddy moved out of my room. No explanation; he just moved. Well, a few days later I finished my last class and as I was heading to my room there was some kids playing a pickup game of football. I was asked to join them. To my surprise my high school friend was playing on the opposition. I had been a good runner as I was slim and fast but I could run over a blocker too as I was much stronger than I looked like I should be. I soon became a favorite ball handler on my new team as I ran for a couple of scores and moved the ball for yardage on a couple of other plays. On one play I took the ball and was going to run up the middle and Buddy was the tackler. I was taken by surprise when he threw a roll block on me. I not only took a face full of grass and dirt but a great deal of laughter from my team mates.
A few plays later I again took the ball and ran up the middle and again Buddy was the tackler. He again threw a roll block but this time I just jumped over him and went on to score the touchdown. Well, Buddy got mad and stormed off the field. I never saw the guy again as the next day he put in for a transfer to another college. I never did find out what made him so angry. I would rather him to have just walked up to me and slugged me as to end our friendship without a word. That was the cruelest blow of all.
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