Fight Night

So I was talking to a friend of mine about old memories we clearly remember and for some reason the conversation shifted to getting into fights. We were discussing recent happenings that occurred on campus and it was interesting cause it made me think of the first actual fist fight I got into in the 4th grade.

I was a pretty skinny, dorky kid back in elementary school. And I remember for no reason I was supposed to fight this kid named Jason Son. Looking back I think it was the white kids that instigated it cause at lunch it always "Jason said this. Doug said that. Oh here we go! After school! FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!" Bastards.

SO - we're supposed to meet in the parking lot of a catholic school across the street from my old house. I remember I was wearing a white Georgetown? Hoyas sweat shirt and I walked over. four of the white kids that instigated it decided to come watch and Jason came running down the hill like some sort of hero. And SO it began.

Confrontation

You know how it goes. People circle up and you two are pitted at each other. I'm staring at this tubby Korean kid thinking "Man, I used to try to help him when he just came from Korea." Start pushing each other and then the fight ensues.

The Fight

It was lame. The ground was kinda muddy and he was trying to kick me like you do in Tae Kwon Do class for like 15 minutes. But the thing was when I stepped back from his kick it would splash mud on my shirt so it was all wtf. So I'd run in screaming and flail at him and I think I mostly hit his back cause I was too scared to hit him in the face. And then, he punched me in the lip and I started to bleed a little and the crowd went "Ohhhh~" And then for a split second when you realize what just happened that rage kinda just happens and then I hit him in the nose. WHAT A BEAST!

Afterwards

A couple minutes after the fight ended I ran home and cried. I mean - I don't know I think the first time you punch someone or hurt someone with your hands out of hate it hurts inside. Call me a pansy, WHATEVER. I go home and I'm all dirty and for some STUPID reason I wanted sympathy from my dad so I acted all hurt BUT victorious. Keyword: Victorious. (I was trying to be the wounded hero. The newly scarred veteran son! - y'know all dramatic...UGH) I thought daddy would take son into his arms and commend him for his epic battle and ask for a recount of the blows that were exchanged. The tale of VICTORY! And his reaction:

"AISH! Next time, bring a bat and hit him with it! Don't you have any common sense?! Are you stupid?!"

DON'T YOU HAVE ANY COMMON SENSE LITTLE BOY! BRING A BAT TO YOUR FIGHTS STUPID!

AS:FOigas;doif never try to squeeze a little pity outta Papa Cho. I mean c'mon idiot. This is the guy who gave you pushing lessons for 2 hours when you were 6 cause you didn't push your friend back after school when he saw you get pushed.

So that was my first fight. I've had a couple afterwards but for some reason I really remember that day. It's weird.

Oh yeah the fight we were talking about on campus:

My friend is going to the gym and at the gym a white guy and a black guy start going at it. For some reason they end up on the ground due to grappling or whatever (why do people always end up on top of each other on the ground during a fight?) and the white guy grabs the black guy's face (cause white guy is on his back) and black guy IMMEDIATELY cups and clutches onto white guy's nuts and warns him "Don't make me do it... DON'T make me do it!" ....asd;asdfasd HAHA