Figured i'd share this account of last serious fight I had 2 yrs ago this week, day after Thanksgiving.Got a neighbor, navy recruiter that drinks in same local bar n we often chatted while watching UFC fights on tv, so he knew I fought.Had his dad visiting from Barstow, CA n brought him over to meet me. Thought it was just "meet my neighbor", but the fellow was setting his dad n me up to fight.Dad was a yr younger, 5'4, inch shorter but prob 25-30 lbs heavier.Hard core biker, covered in tats n a long grey braid down to his beltline as well as beard. Had a few beers n dad stands up, stubs out his butt n starts unbuttoning his shirt as he says, looking at me "My boy tells me u used to fight, think u coulda taken me ?". I shucked my shirt too n said Let's find out, n we went at it right there.He was a tuff ole bastard n had me in trouble a coupla times while we were up n down all over the fuckin back yard.Finally backed him up against my shed, sunk a hard right straight into his navel n when he buckled, grabbed the braid n pulled his head forward n down as I brought knee up.Shattered his beak n he quit.Son had been jumping all around eggin his old man on, but never fuckin inteferred .I had a shiner, busted open upper lip n bloody nose myself.Damn good scrap in my opinion, tho i'm sure my opponent wasn't thrilled with the ending. No regrets here about pulling his braid, If u fight with a braid or ponytail, u got to expect the other guy to use it to his advantage, esp in a streetfight.
The cunt didn't show. Still don't know where he is. His profile has been suspended so a fake. I paid for travel for the match and wasted my day which I took off from work too. Time wasters. Shits me
Yeh less talking about it and more action is what I'd like to see but this account of a real fight is welcomed. If any of you guys want a real fight come to Australia and take me on and we can write up our own story. Come on bitches what are you waiting for.
Great fuckin piece of writing....Nothing as fuckin exhilarating as a good fight n I mean a proper fight here, not some pushing n shoving with a few slaps or weak shots to the gut, but rolling, punching, kneeing, kicking n just generally trying to rip the opponent apart....Win or lose, you never forget the primal excitement of of a nhb bloody n bruising brawl n you wear the souvenirs of that encounter with pride.
Saw this on line somewhere. Can a fight be beautiful and sweet? Waddaya say gents?
"For me it was an all around beautiful fight. Each punch and kick was a perfect strum of an instrument in the best song ever imagined. Every obscene word shouted from either of our bloody mouths was a line in the most impressive poem, crafted by the most skilled writer. None of that Shakespeare shit. We both came into the fight nerves and adrenaline raging, but even though he won, I felt victorious. We weren’t playing like wimps, no we were going for the win. The crowed shouted at our every hit and cheered us on. His hands were fast and painful. They had a way of being far away and then in your face in an instant. I was bruised and bleedin' before I ever knew what the hell had just happened. The finishing blows were my favorite, so I’ll skip to them. I clocked him squarely in the mouth, cutting his lip once again. Blood eased out in a naturally violent way as he yelled his final cry. His fist was in my stomach immediately. In that special little crevice which contained all my air. Just like that I was short on breath but high on energy. I doubled forwards and gathered what I could to breathe. I knew he would be near so I looked up, surprised he hadn’t finished me yet. Maybe the hit to the jaw had got him good. Holding on to hope. I looked up - boom! There was his foot. In my face. In my mouth. I tasted cold rubber and then the asphalt met up with the back of my head. A piece of some foreign substance was in my mouth so I rolled over and spat. My head was swirling, and I couldn’t breathe. Blood trickled from my mouth. I wondered how it was possible. I thought that only happened in movies. My tooth rolled out of my mouth and rested in a puddle of my own velvety blood. I hunched over coughing and gagging. Then I felt that boot again, so newly familiar, crash into my spine. The pain was impossible to deny, even with the adrenaline pulsing through my veins. I collapsed and stayed down. Even through I lost I was glad I still had the experience. Now every time I look at that gap, I think back to the fight, and regard it with sweet pleasure."
SmokinDukes (2)
2013-11-27 22:01Figured i'd share this account of last serious fight I had 2 yrs ago this week, day after Thanksgiving.Got a neighbor, navy recruiter that drinks in same local bar n we often chatted while watching UFC fights on tv, so he knew I fought.Had his dad visiting from Barstow, CA n brought him over to meet me. Thought it was just "meet my neighbor", but the fellow was setting his dad n me up to fight.Dad was a yr younger, 5'4, inch shorter but prob 25-30 lbs heavier.Hard core biker, covered in tats n a long grey braid down to his beltline as well as beard. Had a few beers n dad stands up, stubs out his butt n starts unbuttoning his shirt as he says, looking at me "My boy tells me u used to fight, think u coulda taken me ?". I shucked my shirt too n said Let's find out, n we went at it right there.He was a tuff ole bastard n had me in trouble a coupla times while we were up n down all over the fuckin back yard.Finally backed him up against my shed, sunk a hard right straight into his navel n when he buckled, grabbed the braid n pulled his head forward n down as I brought knee up.Shattered his beak n he quit.Son had been jumping all around eggin his old man on, but never fuckin inteferred .I had a shiner, busted open upper lip n bloody nose myself.Damn good scrap in my opinion, tho i'm sure my opponent wasn't thrilled with the ending. No regrets here about pulling his braid, If u fight with a braid or ponytail, u got to expect the other guy to use it to his advantage, esp in a streetfight.
ozjake (2)
2013-11-23 02:53excellent, love that
Daz (29)
2013-11-28 01:53(Som svar till detta)
Hopefully you and I will fight next Tuesday as planned cunt. And share our story afterwards.
bigchicago (68)
2014-07-31 19:12(Som svar till detta)
Are we gonna get the account of your fight?
Daz (29)
2014-08-01 01:22(Som svar till detta)
The cunt didn't show. Still don't know where he is. His profile has been suspended so a fake. I paid for travel for the match and wasted my day which I took off from work too. Time wasters. Shits me
Daz (29)
2013-10-24 07:18Yeh less talking about it and more action is what I'd like to see but this account of a real fight is welcomed. If any of you guys want a real fight come to Australia and take me on and we can write up our own story. Come on bitches what are you waiting for.
SmokinDukes (2)
2013-10-20 12:00Great fuckin piece of writing....Nothing as fuckin exhilarating as a good fight n I mean a proper fight here, not some pushing n shoving with a few slaps or weak shots to the gut, but rolling, punching, kneeing, kicking n just generally trying to rip the opponent apart....Win or lose, you never forget the primal excitement of of a nhb bloody n bruising brawl n you wear the souvenirs of that encounter with pride.
SmokinDukes (2)
2013-10-23 15:30(Som svar till detta)
Anybody else got any comments on the piece submitted by Fightguy ?
fightguy (18)
2013-10-20 11:20Saw this on line somewhere. Can a fight be beautiful and sweet? Waddaya say gents?
"For me it was an all around beautiful fight. Each punch and kick was a perfect strum of an instrument in the best song ever imagined. Every obscene word shouted from either of our bloody mouths was a line in the most impressive poem, crafted by the most skilled writer. None of that Shakespeare shit. We both came into the fight nerves and adrenaline raging, but even though he won, I felt victorious. We weren’t playing like wimps, no we were going for the win. The crowed shouted at our every hit and cheered us on. His hands were fast and painful. They had a way of being far away and then in your face in an instant. I was bruised and bleedin' before I ever knew what the hell had just happened. The finishing blows were my favorite, so I’ll skip to them. I clocked him squarely in the mouth, cutting his lip once again. Blood eased out in a naturally violent way as he yelled his final cry. His fist was in my stomach immediately. In that special little crevice which contained all my air. Just like that I was short on breath but high on energy. I doubled forwards and gathered what I could to breathe. I knew he would be near so I looked up, surprised he hadn’t finished me yet. Maybe the hit to the jaw had got him good. Holding on to hope. I looked up - boom! There was his foot. In my face. In my mouth. I tasted cold rubber and then the asphalt met up with the back of my head. A piece of some foreign substance was in my mouth so I rolled over and spat. My head was swirling, and I couldn’t breathe. Blood trickled from my mouth. I wondered how it was possible. I thought that only happened in movies. My tooth rolled out of my mouth and rested in a puddle of my own velvety blood. I hunched over coughing and gagging. Then I felt that boot again, so newly familiar, crash into my spine. The pain was impossible to deny, even with the adrenaline pulsing through my veins. I collapsed and stayed down. Even through I lost I was glad I still had the experience. Now every time I look at that gap, I think back to the fight, and regard it with sweet pleasure."