Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire A well deserved azz whooping.

This happened to a friends boy, a honor roll student, loves to hunt and fish, just a great kid. This boy was a black belt, but had been taught never (you know what I mean) to fight because he could seriously hurt someone. He started a new school in the 9th or 10th grade, I'm not sure which, and every thing was fine for a while. Then a bully found out he had taken martial arts and I guess he figured the boy had dropped out, like most kids do. The bully started messing with him, but the boy didn't do anything. The boy told his parents and they scheduled a meeting with the principal and the bullies parents. IIRC, they had 3 meetings and finally my friend told the principal and bullies parents that if they didn't stop the bully, they would let the boy do it. A week or so later, the bully and a couple buddies started something and shoved the boy. Witnesses, yeah this went to court, said the boy told them to leave him alone or he would hurt them, but they didn't. One of them hit or shoved him against a wall and hell broke loose. According to witnesses, he kicked the main bully in the head, broke his jaw, lost a tooth or two, and knocked him out with 1 kick. Punched another in the sternum, cracking it, then kicked the last one in the leg, breaking it.

The case went to court, but when the judge heard about the meetings with the principal and parents, then heard what the witnesses had to say, he threw it out. Cost my friend some lawyer fees and that sucked, but you can rest assured nobody messed with that boy or his sisters.

A very good friend of mine told me that when he got home from VN, one of his favorite things to do was drink whiskey & fight. If he couldn't find a fight he'd start one.

Said he learned a lifelong lesson the hard way one. Ya don't fight for fun, as some folks take it very serious. They cut him up pretty bad one night. I've seen the scars that have left a lasting impression on him.

I taught High School Auto Shop for a number of years. In one class I had a bully that kept picking on a particular student who was a bit different than most. A nice kid, just different. I'd see it start and hustle over to the problem area and break it up. Appropriately counsel the combatants and observe that the behavior ceased. Of course it did not. One day Mr Bully started out and the "victim" had enough. He opened an industrial sized can of whoopass on the bully and was doing a great job educating him. I was very very slow to respond and when I got there, I had to rescue the bully. No problems after that in that class.

I had brothers and cousins around, if you wanted the last cookie, well take it, if ya can.

chicks....

Come out of there slummy, tell us wtf happened...

My son's wrestling coach is a pretty down to earth guy that has been through a number of scrapes in his life and not one to be messed with.

His son was a really good wrestler but after his sophomore year decided he had had enough wrestling. Sometime maybe his senior year some of the kids on the team decided to push Kelly to get him to come back and join the team. They did this by 3 of them catching him in the restroom taking a leak. A couple of the guys got on either side and 1 of them pissed on his leg. Well, things went sideways then. Kelly beat the snot out of them.

Dad/coach gets called into the office where the principal proceeds to threaten that if Kelly ever does something like this again he is out of school. This was after telly the dad/coach that what Kelly did, defending himself, was absolutely verboten. Coach hit the principal's desk and told him straight up, if anything happens to Kelly, then Coach/dad would come and kick the principal's ass because if he wouldn't allow Kelly to defend himself, then it was principal's job to protect Kelly.

I knew of the kids that got the beating and the coach that put them up to it. Although I didn't get to witness the whooping, it was really heartwarming when I heard the story from many different sources.

Must have had some kind of *training* to flog first grade TRH? Just what kind of 'training' do you suspect he had? Taught to make a fist and strike out with it? YGBSM

673;
Good afternoon my friend, I hope you're all getting decent weather up there and you're all well.

We're finally cooling off a wee bit at night, but it's still warm in the daytime.

A longtime friend and hunting partner got one of 2 ram tags up behind our place. We've been pounding it flat since the last week of August - enough that a couple of us will be getting a Christmas card from the local Esso I'm thinking. Anyways he got one on Saturday and we had to hustle to get it off the mountain in the heat.

Regarding your thread and the question it posed, I believe I've told this one before, but in the event there's new folks or even old ones such as myself who forget...

In the fall of '80, one of the more "lively" places to water in Calgary was the Town and Country Motor Hotel in Forest Lawn. The motorcycle enthusiasts from there used to go down to Bowness and shoot the resident motorcycle enthusiasts from that part of town and the Bowness chaps would of course reciprocate. It was no doubt franchising issues in the pharmaceutical distribution trade.

We'd made it a practice to always imbibe near an exit in the T&C because that was just the wise thing to do.

Similarly, when one needed to drain excess liquid, wise patrons would always use the furthest urinal from the door - there were about a dozen as I recall.

They had there in that fine, fine establishment, two bouncers. Before I describe them, we need to clarify that this was the height of the Urban Cowboy craze, so the uniform was black dress slacks, white long sleeved shirts with black bow ties, black arm bands and a black western vest......

One of the bouncers looked a lot like the youngsters from just east of us in a couple Manitoba communities, that is to say if I was guessing, he was of partial Metis extraction and maybe 5'10" but had to be 275lb. He had no neck to speak of - like some of those boys don't. The uniform made him look, if anything even bigger, so nobody seemed to be inclined to play any contact sports with him.

Wise decision I'd wager.

The other fellow was a wee bit taller but 100lbs lighter at least. He had a neatly trimmed beard and a fairly puffy afro hairdo which was also a thing. When we saw him, he was immediately dubbed "Gorgeous George" because, well you know 673... because.

It was a mystery to us as to how Gorgeous got the job because he looked more like a florist or interior designer sort.

One night there was a fairly large rig worker type in there making a bit of a nuisance of himself and he happened to need to drain beer at the same time I did.

I took up my usual position at the far end of the washroom, then in came large obnoxious rig worker and close behind him there's Gorgeous.

He says to the rigger - who was much, much taller and heavier - "If you have your jacket with you sir, it's time you have to go" and so help me Gorgeous sounds like he's taking orders for a dozen long stemmed roses when he says it.

Rig worker replies something short and to the point, then swings hard at Gorgeous.

Gorgeous bobs his neatly combed afro out of the way and then proceeds to work this guy's head like a speed bag!

I had witnessed a few fights in my prairie youth, but had never seen what I now know is a decent boxer really go to town.

He had to have hit buddy 5 or 6 times but it might have been more. It was pure poetry to watch truly.

Then as buddy is sagging down, Gorgeous grabs the guy under both armpits, eases him down and says in his sweet florist voice, "If you have your jacket with you sir, it's time you have to go"

The other bulkier bouncer showed up and they helped Mr. Speedbag Face to his feet and away they went.

That was - thankfully - the most eventful trip to the john I've ever had 673 and it's been a story I love to tell as well.

One just never knows what the other fellow knows, you know?

All the best and good luck on your hunts.

Dwayne

Back in my HS days, I had an acquaintance named Rob. I was friends with Rob’s extended family - his aunt was & is like a mother to me, but Rob was a piece of [bleep].

I was going to a party in a pasture. My friend Diane wanted to follow me there, as she did not know the way. I am sitting in my car in a parking lot waiting for Diane when Rob walks up and asks if he can ride to the party with me. I say “sure, but I am not responsible for bringing you back to town; if you are ready to leave when I am I will bring you back, but I will not make a special trip. Rob agreed to those conditions.

We are at the party about 10 minutes and Rob approaches me looking rather anxious and asks when I will be ready to go. “Dude, we just got here. What’s the matter?” Rob tells me there are some people at the party that have a problem with him. “Imagine that” I say, and I advise him to look for another ride outta there. Awhile later I am at the trunk of my car mixing a drink and I hear quite the commotion behind me. As I walk back to the bonfire I meet Diane and she asks “What’s going on over there?” “Oh, they’re beating the hell out of Rob” I casually reply. “Aren’t you going to stop them?” She asked. “Nope, I’m sure they’ve got a good reason.”

It turns out that Rob had found a ride back to town with his good hearted neighbor, Steve. As Steve started to back his truck, four very pissed off guys stood and glared at Rob, making sure he understood that he was never welcome there again. It had appeared that the situation would end peacefully. Rob, being the piece of [bleep] that he was, stared back at them and flipped them the bird. That’s when they yanked him out of the truck…

Rob pressed charges and asked me to be a witness for his case. I told him “Hell no, you deserved what you got.” The guys that beat him up had to pay fines, etc. That was nearly 40 years ago. As far as I know the guys that did the beating all went on to productive& successful lives. Rob is about 20 years into a couple of life sentences with no parole.

1) My first "real" job took me to Pearsall, TX early summer of 1969.
I was just dumb enough, and sporting a moustache, looked just old enough, to get into the Wishing Well dance hall just south of town.
One night, a gentleman sporting a dress US Army uniform, a chestful of medals and a green Beret. On his left arm was one knockout chick.
When the music started, the proverbial "drunk cowboy" (DC) asked Cutie Pie to dance. She said no.
A song or two later, he's back at the table. GB stands up and CP says no.
Later, DC again returns to the table. GB meets him and tells him the lady said , "No.".
Then DC mouths off.
In 1969, you just didn't mouth off around ladies.
GB grabs DC by the collar and (ahem!) "escorts" him to the parking lot.
With CP begging GB to take it easy, GB explains to DC that he's on leave and heads to Viet Nam in a couple of days, I just want a quiet time with my girl.
"I'm a Green Beret and I can hurt you, but I don't want to."
DC replies, "That don't make a eff to us cowboys!" Takes a swing that lays GB out colder that yesterday's chutney and walks (staggers?) back into the dance hall.

2) Mike had won several Golden Glove matches. He was absolute lightening with his fist.
His sister Marcie was an absolute knockout, loose as a goose, drink anything that gurgled and chased by every guy in town.
Mike was home on leave from the military before assignment.
Marcie was on a date and Mike wanted to tell her goodbye.
As departure time grew closer and Marcie didn't show, Mike got madder and madder.
About 5 minutes before he HAD to leave, Marcie and her date showed up!
Mike immediately pulled the kid halfway out the window and went to town.
It took Marcie and his mom both to get him off the kid.
Mrs. Mom shamed Mike and told him that was unnecessary and made him go apologize to the kid.
The kid is trying to get his eyes to work and the blood off his face when Mike walks up and starts apologizing to the kid.
The kid trys to turn to look at Mike when a half empty whiskey bottle rolls out from under the seat.
The beating resumed!

I remember riding the school bus in high school. A senior kept aggravating a short dumpy sophomore kid everyday on the bus. He really gave him a hard time. A couple of days before the last day of school the senior started his routine and the sophomore kid got him down in the isle between the seats and absolutely stomped the schist out of him!!
When the seniors parents found out how he been treating the kid they made him attend the last two days of school fully bandaged up, black eyes busted lips and all!

7th or 8th grade, a guy with a wise ass rep was poking at a kid in a Boy Scout uniform. They squared up after school and the Boy Scout pummeled the kid. His dad was a fireman I got to know way later in life and taught his son how to box a little. It was enough.

Another guy in high school played youth hockey in Canada half the year and was a brawler. He would fight anyone for any reason. Just went in grabbing shirts and swinging like a hockey player. He started in on this big kind of blubbery black kid in this horn rimmed glasses. Well he charged in and the kid caught him on the jaw before he could grab hold. Kind of stood him up and punched him out good. The longer reach and good jabs kept the hockey player from being able to wrap him up.

Have a friend that took a ballet class in community college. I said "Joe, there is nothing but women in that class". He says "Exactly". The boy was a lot smarter than I thought. He was the only guy. There's something to be said about being the only rooster in the henhouse.

I have always been a very fast runner.

It does, I've done my best to avoid fighting since 4th grade.

The last time I got close was probably 10th grade. I swung twice and missed with both but I think it surprised the guy that I would swing back and he quit.

Second hand from my wife before we were even hooked up. She was a singer in a band that was doing a house band thing in Las Cruces. The bass player/singer was married with small kids but a little effeminate I guess. He'd been taking [bleep] from a busser or waiter about it and finally went off. My wife said the guy needed to be set straight deserved it but it was an awful beating. She didn't see that guy around for the rest of their stay.

Never picked a fight, finished a number. Go for the Adam's apple or the eyes
. Then I learned to crush the instep with my boots, did cause bruises to my knuckles.

Hai Karate
Back in the day it wasn’t uncommon for a lot of people to not get to watch TV .
So quite a few hadn’t seen the commercial about Hai Karate after shave
I caught a view of the commercial which a short stay at my grandmothers and got me some as soon as possible.
Unfortunately for a simple holler honey who had not seen the commercial, decided to pick on me .
That morning I had doused myself good and was vibrating with energy .
Holler honey proceeded to harass me and my girl friend, she asked quietly if I was going to tell him , when he grasped my shoulder and spun me around as we were trying to walk away .
The spin stirred the air and my nostrils filled with Hai Karate aroma and eyes glazed and hopefully god will forgive me .
Poor soul .
Kenneth

Always hated bullies and was told by my old man to never start a fight but I better finish it. He also told me that if I ever lost a fight that I'd have to deal with another ass whipping from him when I got home. He was a nut and it's taken me a long time to undo all of the schitt that he imbedded in my mind.