I've been in heaps of fist fights. Never by choice ofcourse, there are always circumstances which are out of my hands that lead to fist fights. I haven't thrown the first punch in a fist fight since I was in year 6, I guess I matured since then.
In primary school I used to feel guilty after getting in fights, especially when I could tell how much one of my punches hurt the other guy. I think year 6 is when I put this permanent cap on the amount of strength I exerted in any physical fight due to the damage I did with a single punch.
We were playing marbles as we did back then when a disagreement over who had won led to pushes and punches. I felt this dizziness kick in, everything around me was spinning almost in slow motion, yet I still had perfect control. I could see the first punch coming towards me and managed to move my head out of the way in time. Then with a single motion my right hand tapped him in the center of the face. *bang* At that point the fight was over, and his nose was pouring with blood.
He started crying, and I was left feeling guilty. Even though I was in the right.
Another epic fight (ofcourse the older fights are always better) it was scheduled for after school, me and one of the bigger islander kids in the grade, this was in Year 7. For a Year 7 fight, it sure did attract alot of attention, probably because I was more well known for my elder brother who was a much better fighter than I, ofcourse there was an expectation that this would be a fight that would finally settle the ranks of "whos who" in terms of strength in the grade. That's pretty much how it worked, I was either 3rd or 4th depending on the outcome of the fight, which doesn't sound like much, but when looking at the candidature it could pretty much be a character list from Street Fighters.
Practically the whole school had gathered, and you could tell from the number of people that had talked about the fight to either me or my opponent, that it would be so. "Are you ready?", are the words I heard uttered by friends throughout what seemed to be a day that would not end. What's worse was I was somewhat fatigued that day, so that wasn't good for my cause. We both walked onto the road inbetween two rows of houses that lead to a dead-end, which was broken through to make access to the Plaza which was behind it. A massive crowd was on either side, and my brother wasn't there to back me up incase someone decided to jump in, which probably wasn't a good idea. I'd seen a few of my brothers friends though, but depending on the day they probably wouldn't have been of any use in that case.
I looked around in the crowd for my opponent, and I suppose the fight started the moment he emerged from a crowd of people towards me with his fists up. I was wearing a pair of uncomfortable school shoes which I didn't have time to tie up tightly now. The fight was on. I could feel the sinking feeling in my gut start to ease now, and with that his right fist had slammed into my left cheek. *BANG* I could bet that the sound was loud enough for anyone in the crow to hear, we both stepped back to come in for the next blow, this one would be mine if I could get the footing behind it.
He'd already over-extended a bit in the last punch so this was mine. I put my right foot forward and put the weight of my whole body behind this punch. It was a killer, a jab which partially landed on his forehead and the side of his face. At that point he tackled me, my shoes which were now untied made it hard for me to keep balance. My back slammed into the ashphalt on the ground, and the oaf saw this as an opportunity not to back off, but rather to continue throwing punches.
A portion of the crowd shouted "dog fighter", because it was generally understood that you don't punch an opponent on the ground. But there was no rule against it. I managed to block all the punches in a frenzy of pushing his oncoming fists out of the way. I could tell it had frustrated him, he tried to move my hands out of the way to land a punch, and he managed with one. A punch right to the nose, and with my head on the ashphalt the punch really sunk in. My nose started bleeding from both nostrils. He tried to land another punch, by I kept blocking them from on the ground. At that point I decided to throw a counter punch, and from the position I was in, it was worthy of the name. It was a primal punch, so primal that I can't give it a name, I bashed him in the eye with my fist, and the skin in between his nose and eye was cut open a little, and bleeding.
At that point the oaf and I were exhausted, "enough" I asked? "enough" he agreed. He got up and the shit talking began. The question on a few peoples minds was "who won?", he quickly added "I busted up his nose". I was too tired to start another fight over who won the last, so I just responded "look at your eye". Almost as if to check whether his eye was cut he rubbed his middle finger and index finger along his eye and replied "yeah cause you scratched me", I could hear some laughter amongst the crowd, and decided I'd better just go home at this point. I had a 3km walk to make, so I put my shoe back on which had fell off during the struggle and walked home.
I could go on for days about the different fights I've been in. But I'd rather not.