Discussion in 'Strategies, Tactics and Training' started by crofrog, Aug 2, 2006.
You have a duty to de-escalate, or at least not respond to common insults, imho.
Nope, I avoid fights. You can go ahead and insult me, whatever, I wont fight you. Unless you put my life in danger by having a weapon of course. In my line of work I deal with the end results of lots of people who have lost fights and I dont care to be one of them. Since I am unathletic to the point of being physically handicapped, the chances I am going to win a fight are slim to none. You learn to recognize bullies over the years, suprisingly its not usually the big guys, its usually shorter stocky guys who really love the idea lf beating on someone who they sense is weaker then them. On the other hand you may be bigger than me, tougher, madder, drunker,meaner or whatever, you aint bulletproof.
Just thought I would add a perspective for those who arent 250 lb streetfighters .
Funny you bring this up...
I was in a fight friday night, in front of center stage at a Bad Religion concert in San Deigo. Some kids (cops said skinheads) punched my best friend in the back of the head and knocked him out. Combat ensued. Im 25, and have not been in a fight since highschool, even then it was only once or twice. We were not in the mosh pit. These guys had been running around the concert sucker punching people apparently. I landed several punches on 2 guys who didnt know who I was (they didnt know they had just hit my bro). Ive never seen a drunken sneer turn to a look of horror as fast as one of those guys did as my fist said hello.
I rode in with my bud to the hospital, but hes fine. The SDPD was cool, and told me at the ED that they had the guys on tape attacking us, and that they were gonna be "charged". The concert was great, but Im pissed I missed a good part of it. Im a little sore, and have a gash on my elbow, but am ok. Fighting sucks, and this is why I try at all costs to avoid it.
I have to agree to the drinking statement above. I have just recently given the sauce up and even though I never started anything I sure have to say that drinking was always involved with the fights I was in.
Including one time the night before a wedding for my best friend (I was the best man) one of his very drunk groomsmen sucker punched him. I then ended up putting the guy in the hospital BUT he was able to make it to the wedding the next day.
Odds are without the drinking the groomsman wouldn't have hit the groom the night before his wedding but who knows.
Twenty bucks says Biker can take anyone in this thread.
If it lasts longer than 5 seconds with both induhviduals still standing, it's recreation.
When I was playing "host," I bought a lot of beligerent guys drinks... Yeah, they're drinking more, but at the same time, most of 'em calm down... "Yeah, she was looking at you. Then she looked at the other guys. And they're looking back - She's naked on a stage, ferchrissake!"
Talk to 'em, get 'em out of the hostile environment, and then they either spend more $$, or the guys who were larger and dumber than I would show 'em the door... What scared us most were boyfriend types... No dating customers and all that, and significant others weren't supposed to be in the club, but sometimes they'd show up, and get gnarsty...
The last fight I got into was on New Years Eve of 2004. I was with a buddy at the home of a friend of his lots of alcohol and a disagrement with a pro-union pipefiter later wound up with a few of his buddies holding me back to keep me off of him. Now that his friends are holding me he has it in his mind that hes the toughest guy in the world and continues talking ****. Well at this point my wife (god I love this woman) walks up and smacks him across the face telling him to shut his mouth in the process. It was funny till he punched her in the mouth( I have never been so pissed in my life) at that point his friends decided the only right thing to do was to let me go and teach their "buddy" a lesson in how to treat a lady. Well this story ends with him being carried inside after taking a beautiful beating, and his girlfriend dumping him the next day. Could it be any better?
Grew up in Oakland CA before it became cool to be from Oak-town In my youth (before 30) I had been in 2 fights, neither one did I start, I was just w/ the guys & covering a buddy's back. Then, after 30, one more. The last one I was in had serious potential to get really ugly.
EVER been in a fight...uhm yeah.
In High school they were SERIOUS...no posturing involved. During and after school I worked in the woods, fights settled things and you shook and went back to work. Only rules were no "loggers pox" on the face, means no stomping the guy's face with your caulks. More than once to that well due to my mouth. I used to get pissed...then mouthy. was big enough to back it up tho. I rarely threw the first punch, but usually threw the last one.
DID get my ass complete kicked more than once..but NEVER in a solo confrontation. GF was watching from my truck with the doors locked when I took on 3. I was well on the way to winning when the 4th arrived with a billy. I had my "chicken stick", about 2 feet of hickory shovel handle with tar tape and a lanyard, we got into it when the last one standing jumped on my back. About that time the local law showed up and we all got to go explain things to a judge. They got charged, I had 18 stitches and a LOT of mighty big lumps. Other guys looked worse tho..one had to have the heomatoma tended to.
Last one was in college, down in the local tavern playing pool and I ran the table against a beligerent newcomer. He hit me from behind with a pitcher, I turned and broke the bridge across his nose then kneed him in the groin and used his face to break the slate of the table. That pretty well finished things as my friends were hauling me off him and his friends were picking up his sorry butt. We both got a lecture from the law, he went to the hospital for observation of a concussion and to fix all the broken bones in his face. I was 'asked' not to do that again. My smart ass response was to tell the cop that I wouldnt if he didnt.
Then I got married and had kids...I've avoided most all things like that since...and I carry purt near 24/7...and slide out of a lot now. I have a great wife of 24 years, two kids (and MAYBE grandkid soon...have to watch that) that I LIKE being around for.
lots of em
i've been in a ton of fights short mouthy drunks get lucky that way.i'm almost embarassed my best friend figured out i've been in 500 fights since grade school. probably won at least 100 of em.i do take some pride in taking my beating like a man. its funny i was one of those dimwits that when drunk would pick a fight with one of you big guys.make you poor guys cool me out . i feel bad about it now i realize what a pain it was no win for big guy he looks bad beating the shrimp.strangely enough i bet i've been in less than 10 sober fights lifetime and never started one sober. hmmm i sense a pattern
quit drinking 15 years ago been in one sorta fight. some buffoon kicked his five year old so hard the kid flew through the air. did it right in front of me at 7 11. i lost my mind for 30 secs till some lady grabbed me by the hair pulled me off him. i thought i was going to jail but no one saw a thing.
i was one of those short martial arts freaks but drunk as i used to get it only helped me take punches well. i don't miss it a bit
LE in the 60's: Yes. Never lost. Used proper tools to end the threat. Didn't get paid enough money to lose.
I was a 19-year-old geek who grew up in an 18,000 person former logging town in Washington. The local idea of a fistfight victorys was simply who got a bloodied nose or lip first. Recently transported to Phoenix, AZ to go to school I was the proverbial hick in the big city. I was at the Metrocenter mall down in that big arcade area on the lower floor. It's got this Hugh Jass escalator that runs down into it that is the only way into or out of it that I'm aware of.
I was playing Street Fighter II and some teenage cholo rolls up and pops a token in to play me. I was pretty good back in the day and basically treated him like a $2 whore a few times before he starts talking trash. Not thinking anything about it, I was more than willing to exchange some pleasantries right back while I was upping the smackdown to $1 whore status. The last game, I think I actually hammered him down without looking at the screen once. Just smiled and told him what a punk he was right to his face.
Well, he pushes me and I push him back a lot more. Must have outweighed him by at least 40 pounds. Tells me he's gonna beat my ass and me, being a complete idiot and having no frickin' clue about real life, told him where I'd shove that if he tried.
Two hours later I'm bored and decide to head out into the night air. Now, Metrocenter has a door right by the arcade that runs into a giant parking lot. Plenty of potted plants and benches outside. Scoping the cholas and generally trying to not look like the complete dork I am, I'm not watching the doors behind me.
Out of no where comes this gruff voice like this guy has been gargling with broken lightbulbs and Draino. "You dissin' my little bro, mano?" I look over my shoulder and I'm looking at my first real-life ex-convict. He's got tatted arms as big as my legs, a barrel torso from the crappy diet and a blue rag on his head. He looks at me after I turn, spits on the ground at my feet and is on me like a rabid pitbull on a Milkbone kitten.
I manage to backpedal just out of range of his sloppy first punch, sidestepped and threw a weak left into his jaw. He grunted, turned and charged again with a brutal right hook to the ribs. I would have deftly sidestepped this second punch but that annoying bench poured into the potted garden got in my way. Stars and I'm on my back and not being able the breathe.
This big bastard in on my stomach trying to throttle me and well, he's succeeding admirably. I choke up my shoulders and tense my neck as I try to bar him out with a stiff arm just like in japslapping class but those hands are like hydraulics, I can feel them in either side of my spine digging in between the muscle and sinew there. Red starts to creep into my vision and roaring into my ears, slowly edging in from the outside and I go flippin' berserk. After trying an eye gouge or three I switch tactics completely randomly. Every effort has been out until now so I grab his do-rag and pull him into me. Caught off guard, he falls towards me so I can get a good grip in his left ear. I twist it as hard as I can and pick myself up towards him until I can get within range of the one thing I hope another human being never has to do to save their own life.
I bit into his face.
Not a nip, a nibble or a taste. I bit about 3/4 inch or each side of his nose and dug in like a terrier preparing to shake a rat to death. Blood poured out of his wound and into my mouth and I heard the worst scream I can ever imagine coming from this guy as he starts beating on me to get me off of him. I'm getting kicked by his freinds as I have now basically bearhugged to him while I was trying to gnaw his nose off of his face.
Probably about 20-30 seconds into it I hear a voice amongst the shreiking from the cholo, his buddies shouting at me to let him go and the sound of the crap being kicked out of myself. " Get off of him, you bastards! Mark, you gotta let him go!"
Somehow the voice of my roommate Peter cut through the animal screaming like a banshee in my skull and I relaxed my jaw long enough to flop back onto the sidewalk, my face and neck slicked with blood. "Mark, we need to get the f*ck out of here!" Peter and Raul pick me up and haul me bodily as I stumble trying to keep up with them. They toss me into the back seat bodily and head out back to our apartment just off of Camelback and 7th street.
As we drive they explain how they had checked the arcade and stepped out for a smoke when they saw this whiteboy getting the boot party. They didn't care until Peter noticed my goofy bahama shorts and yelled, "Come on, man! That's Mark!"
I use Raul's t-shirt to wipe up as much blood as I can from my face and just about flipped out again trying to get my clinging to my skin blood-soaked t-shirt off. I started crying and told them to pull over at some random restaurant. I walked inside with blood smears still on my face and neck where the edge of the t-shirt had been and stepped into the men's room.
Looking into the mirror after washing my face off I openned my mouth to see if I had anyhting missing. All my teeth were there and some careful wiggling told me that there weren't any loose. I breathed in deep and turned in a lunge towards the toilet were I must have blown out a good portion of my meals for the last 6 hours of so. I wiped my mouth, checked myself in the mirror and as calmly as I could manage stepped back into the restaurant on my way back to the car and home.
Mark(psycho)Phipps( HAHAHA! )
now that's some ****ing mindset right there!
i've been a bouncer for almost 4 years now in 5 different bars. i've worked in bad areas of the bronx and shady areas of upstate. NEVER have i had to fight anyone. if you are cordial to people, don't take what they say personally, and generally have a laid back attitude you can avoid a lot of sticky situations.
is this the same thing? no, but bouncers deal with the rowdiest of the crowds every night. if you can keep these guys from punching you or you punching them, then that's a pretty good start i think
Ocasionally, someone is just psycho -- and everyone can tell the difference -- but most times there are really no issues.
Phipps, that's insane man. I used to deal with felons for a living and it threw off my entire ability to think as a rational human: everyone had an angle and was looking to scam/hurt me, or so I thought...
Girl Scouts would come to my door selling cookies and my first thought would be, "What's in it for you, bitch?"
Evil, truly, evil.
It has taken YEARS to "de-program."
How much can you know about yourself if you've never been in a fight?
I'm surprised no one posted it so far,
unless I missed it.
Yup been in plenty in my younger days. I also boxed for 8 yrs. Also studied Jujitsu for some time. I won my share of fights, and also got my A$$ handed to me a couple of times. I remember my old trainer used to say, "there are two types of fighters, those that have gotten beat, and those who will get beat". Point being, there is always someone out there that is bigger and badder then you, so it is important to stay humble, and never under-estimate your opponent.
my favorite drug addict once quoted hisdad as saying a good run beats a bad stand any day.
i don't miss fighting. win or lose its not good for you..
I've worked as a bouncer as well. You're right on the money, trickyasafox. The trick I learned from an old hand was "The Look". It takes practice but you eventually get it down right as you try to use it. "The Look" is this phenomenal half-bored/half-annoyed look that somehow combines "school marm knows you're naughty" discipline with "I can tear off your head and drop a load down your neck but I hate the paperwork" menace. It somehow conveys, regardless of the state of drunken stupor the intended recipient is in, that they just screwed up, you saw them screw up, they now know for certain that they screwed up and now it's time for them to leave quietly.
In fact, I only had one incident, before I learned "The Look", where I had some guy blow out his own finger to get out of my finger lock I was using to guide him outside. Of course, we had some ROTC kids from the college rounding out our numbers who refused to catch on that throwing people around wasn't the point.
The interesting thing is that the Devil Dogs of the group were the least likely to get physical during any confrontation. They had great restraint and when they moved it was as a unit that just steamrollered the troublemaker(s) in one fell swoop before smoothly getting them to the door.
Oh well, we were all rarely without friendly female companionship each night so it was all in the good,
Mark(psycho)Phipps( HAHAHA! )
Rule one! There are no rules in a street fight ! :banghead:
The first Fight I was ever involved in was at the age of 17 I'd just arrived in a Buff shooting camp in the Northern Territory ! THe Cook was there to meet me . The conversation started with .....G'day Names Sydney ! Call me Sid ! I'm a poof (homosexual ) You can fight me or F##K me !!!!!!!!!!!! I replied that I did'nt like POOFTAS ! I ended up on my back with nose all over my face ! Sid had his foot on my chest & looked down at me & told me the greatest piece of advise I have ever learnt ..........Keep your eye's & ears open & your Mouth shut & you might just live to see Old bones !
Hey what do you know ? I've made Old bones !
Only one. I was a Sophomore in Highschool. Two friends and I being too young to drive walked to a local dance where three schools were invited. I don't know whether we talked to the wrong girls or what, but afterwards we got jumped. We were walking back accross a soccer field. I got tackled/hit from behind. As I stood up, a guy took a swing at me. I ducked it and put him down with one hit. I looked over and one of my friends was taking care of another guy. Two other guys were kicking my other friend on the ground. I traded punched with those two till they all ran away. We saw the truck they got in. A big lifted Chevy that must have had 40 inch mud tires. My buddy ended up with busted ribs. At that time in my life, revenge was in order. We checked out the parking lots of the different schools that were invited to the dance till we found the truck. I bet that guy was pretty mad to find all four of those giant tires slit.
Later we found out that they were seniors and were supposed to be the "tough guys" at that school.
Violence may be counterproductive, But Sometime it's a necessity
Yes. I grew up in Brooklyn, New York. I went to Brooklyn Tech in the '70's. It was a predomenately male school, with lots of guys trying to prove that they were the toughest on the block. Back then fights were more a matter of socialing and establishing the pecking order. College was usually just a mean drunk at a mixer who needed a tune-up It was bare knuckles, no weapons. I got out of college at 5'9" and 135#Yes I'm going to date myself and say 'there were rules'. It's not like today. I studied karate, aikido, and iaido and the philosophy is not to fight. In Aikido it's victory over ones self. I figured that outlook, and hanging out with an 'educated 'crowd would keep me away from violence. Be cool, be mellow and nothing will happen. I thought. I've driven cabs at night, and I've run into all kinds of rebrobates [I don't do that anymore, avoiding the risk]. Well the few fights that I have not been able to avoid, took under five seconds. I'm lucky, I haven'y been seriously injured, haven't broken any fingers, and haven't been convicted of a felony. I have a CCW and carry a Hi-Power everywhere, I especially avoid bars and just consider the source if anyone gives me flak. Walking away is cheaper then attornys fees.
I seem to piss people off. I don't know if its the way I look, or what. I try real hard not to be a smart-ass when I know it could cause problems, but somehow the one guy in the bar that wants a fight finds me and pushes the wrong buttons. It doesn't matter where I go, or how often, even when I just hide in a corner and nurse my beer, somehow the guy that wants to tango gets up in my grill. I'm not a big guy or anything either. I'm about 5'8" and 200 lbs. Big enough, I guess, but thats all water weight and fat. I'm kind of portly and friendly looking.
But it all works out. I trained in karate when I was a kid, Chung moo doe when I was a teen and jujitsu and other unarmed fighting since then. I also train with Kettlebells and COC grippers. I don't start fights, but I always end 'em. And, sorry, I don't fight fair.
Lots of fist fights when I was a little kid . . . taught a couple of kids from the next block that ganging up on me wasn't smart, as I would track them down, one by one . . .
broke another kid's glasses (I wore glasses too) when I was in 8th grade . . . couple of minor fights in high school . . .
In college, a couple of guys tried to shake me down in a parking lot, but I'd been studying Kenpo for a while and when the second guy saw how hard the first guy went down, he "beat feet."
Long hiatus . . . then a couple of years ago an aggressive panhandler accosted me when I was walking down the street with my mother . . . I guess he figured I'd give him something to spare the little old lady.
When he reached for my mother, I did give him something - pepper spray. Worked just like it was supposed to.
I guess I try a LOT harder to avoid fights than quite a few of the posters here . . . moreso now that I'm usually "packing."
I played minor hockey and bounced for a long time while still playing in the bar leagues, what do you think.
Worst beating was at the hands of a canadian/russian genetic hodgepodge in upstate NY. on the ice, he broke my helmet in three places and my cheek in two. Then he started hitting my ribs. To this day I have no idea what set him off. He had hands like river rock. I could not eat solid food or stand straight for two weeks.
Worst moment was seeing a large drunken Native American woman all of a sudden get the killer look in her eyes while she tried to stab me in the crotch with a meat fork. I shoved the fork down low to my thigh and hit her on the side of the head full force with a sap, twice. I think the first would have killed anyone else, the second merely convinced her to go to sleep for a while.
I try Very Very hard to stay out of them now, more than willing to swallow my pride and walk away. But there are times and people for whom it is necessary to face up to.
I have found that with the CCW and assets to protect, I am even less inclined to stand my ground. Now it truely must be a threat to my life or the lives of mine.
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