This is a forum full of pussies “FACT”

Last one @ Cannock going down a unopened trail some dipstick and his buddies walking Up!!!! a trail but failing to see me coming down obvious contact I was winning untill his other meat heads joined in 🙂

Fighting is sometimes funny in lycra and helmets.

Coming from an East End family of dock workers and going to a posh university I found it necessary, for political reasons of course, to engage in the odd bit of jolly japes. It cleared the air.

In Prague 1992 I think with a work colleague, totally and utterly mashed, he objected to me pissing up his leg, we fought like tigers, full on punches and kicks the lot, then picked each other up, got a taxi to the hotel and did a runner when we realised we couldn’t pay it. Next day we represented Royal Mail at a European conference, still pissed, stinking of fags with bruised faces and managed to get an honourable mention for our contribution in the minutes.

Next day we represented Royal Mail at a European conference, still pissed, stinking of fags with bruised faces and managed to get an honourable mention for our contribution in the minutes.

(Weeps with joy at the sheer Britishness of it all…) 😥

Last summer……. Caught a trespasser in my garage where I keep the bikes. I told him just to leave but he was having none of it and stood his ground and just spat at me so I went to grab him and he bit me on the back of the hand. Slung the vermin outside but still got the scar to prove it.

Cats can be vicious bleeders I tell ya!

Last full on fight – 1998 or so.

A garage in Kenton, Newcastle that I worked at.

I was finishing the sunday night shift and changing over for the night shift. I was leaving the garage and some local hard nut wanted in. I told him to go to the night hatch, he said no. I said that is what you have to do. He said he would nut me. I said go ahead, so he did.

I was pretty pissed off, kicked him away and then from my Dad’s description I launched myself about 2m through the air and landed a massive headbut in return on him which sent him onto the floor.

His two mates jumped in and started laying into me. Dad got worried and got out of the car to break it up. The lad on the ground got up and went for dad, hit him in the gob.

At this point I went berserk. I have vague memories and what dad told me as well. I smacked the two lads hard and away from me ran and grabbed the other lad who had just hit dad and threw him on the ground. By this point one of the other lads had tried to get hold of me again, but I had got him in a headlock and was punching him in the face at the same time as stamping on the kid on the ground.

Dad, bless him, started trying to get the third lad away who was by now backing off and calling me a nutter.

Dad then pulled the lad on the ground up shoved him over with is friend and shouted at me to let go of the other kid in the headlock.

The three of them backed off and then made another go for it. I started after all of them, they ran off down the street to a waiting girl screaming at me to leave them alone. The girl handed them a metal bar and they started back, to us. I carried on towards them, they changed their minds about continuing the fight and ran off.

Back at the garage the police were there, quite a few of them, the helicopter was up, Dad was really excited about having been in a scrap, he was about 50 then.

Police wanted to know if he wanted to press any charges, but mentioned that if they did, and the witness around the garage stuck to their story, I might be in trouble myself.

So we left it.

Mum wondered why we were late and knew when he called that something was up.

Got home and I had a black eye, Dad had a fat lip and he was absolutely buzzing.

At work the next day, he was the talk of Alcan. 50 years old and bragging about his fat lip.

Made my brother really jealous as well.

In reality though I was lucky as was Dad, it could have gone the wrong way.

2006, The Old Monk, Leeds. Where Wagamama’s is now.

Working on the door with two other doormen when a group of twelve travellers who were fairly well known in the area kicked off after we’d asked the lady in the group to stop dancing on the table.

My concussion after the fight was so bad I went blind in one eye for a few days. I decided that after eleven years of door-work it was time to call it a day.

Fighting is for idiots. In all that time I can count the number of serious fights I had on one hand. If you can’t talk it out then there’s something wrong with you…

Fighting is sometimes funny in lycra and helmets.

Just laughed very loud. 😆

Proper fight?

Years ago I objected to a lad I knew (5ft3) being beaten up by 4 local lads over a girl. I basically said to a girl (who knew these lads) that it was abit out of order. She obviously told them and they jumped me in a alleyway whilst I was having a slash on the way home from a pub.

I woke up without any memory but my face etc was a right mess. Apperently a friend of mine had found me wandering through a petrol station 200m’s down the road from where it happened and he’d taken me home.

Later on these lads boasted around about how they’d jumped me and all kicked me unconscious. Thats how I found out what happened.

So I knew who it was. Two of the lads were leaving a local Gym in Marsh Huddersfield and a mate alerted me to them. I went outside, called them and ended up having a fight with the leader/biggest lad- broke the **** nose whilst my bestmate kept the other lad at bay (basically he was jumping around trying to jump in and fight me as well).

It’d been alot worse however after upper-cutting him it broke quite well. I stopped.

Never heard from them after that but apperently they always fought together. Probably because alone they are soft and wet. Last I heard the big lad was a drug dealer in Halifax.

Of course had arguments since then but I’ve always diffused situations. In person I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong as well.

Think I had one or two physical disagreements at school (25 years ago), don’t think you’d call them fights and even then I should have known better. About 20 years ago I went to help someone up off the floor who had come of worse in a brawl and they set on me breaking my nose. That was the last time I went near anyone acting agressively.

People who fight for any reason other than self defence or the defence of those who are unable to defend themselves are clearly mentally retarded.

Saturday just gone, local derby at rugby, stopped 2 or 3 got smacked a few times but as the captain, I exercise some restraint!

I grew up in an area well known for “yoof” crime in South London and unfortunately on four occassions I’ve been knifed, once quite seriously, I’ve also been hit in the head with a short scaffolding pole which was a bit dangerous and left me scarred. I spent 10 of the worst minutes of my life compressing the femoral atery of a mate who had been stabbed in the thigh at KFC at West Croydon for looking at someone in the wrong way.
Around my way it was unlikely that you’d get away with a few punches so unless you were prepared to do something very unpleasant to someone else it was best to avoid voilence. Unhappily it wasn’t always possible and I’ve certainly done things in the heat of the moment that I regret.

I had to square up to a pikey chav scum I found on my drive last week. We have some work going on at our house and he was rifling through my scrap metal pile, so when I challenged him he asked me if I had the authority to decide and he wanted to see the owner of the house. (That being me) So I just went nose to nose with him and told him to eff off. He did.

Torminalis – Member
Fighting is sometimes funny in lycra and helmets.
Just laughed very loud.
POSTED 36 MINUTES AGO # REPORT-POST

Around 1986 was my last fight – protecting my 14 year old brother from some drunks very late one night – I was dropping off my older brother after he had been out. I had stayed in so couldn’t be bothered to change out of my slippers. As I was winning the fight and punching this drunk hard in the face all I could think was ‘I’m having a fight in my slippers’.

lol I had a fight with my troop cpl when I was in Bosnia wearing my slippers 😉

“who won then loddrick, Akira or Glitter in the Ibiza face off?”

Well, the memory is a bit hazy, but I think it went something like this:

We’d been having a laugh on the beach, having a couple of beers and chatting to the locals, when they challenged us to a game of cricket. We were doing well and were winning by miles – until Loddrik came to bowl. He could only throw like a girl, with those sissy under arm throws that only women do. The thing is, I let it pass as it was only a game after all, when we were suddenly challeged to a game of football by said locals.

Akira’s first touch was exquisite, almost ballet, and Loddrik’s wasn’t half bad either. He was like a cross between Bobby Moore, Pele, and Ossie Ardiles when he had the ball and we were well and truly thrashing the opposition. However, complacency got the best of us as we were 12-nil up and the locals came back with a vengeance. We were all to blame – they scored 5, 8, 11 – we could feel the lead washing away, like the sea lapping at the sand. And there it was, the locals’ star striker, Fernando, lined up a free kick from what seemed like 50 yards out, the other side of the beach no less, and BOOM! Straight in the top corner. They had equalised with less than a minute to go.

Then, from out of nowhere, the spirit of Sean Bean from ‘When Saturday Comes’ must have spoken to Loddrik as he got the ball, danced across the sand, past 18 of their defenders and got ready to fire into the bottom corner. The aforementioned opposition striker, Fernando, could see what was happening and bowled in to Loddrik, sandals up and took him down in the most cynical way possible.

Now was our chance for victory.

Loddrik placed the sand-scuffed Mitre Delta Ultimax ™ on the penalty spot and looked the opposing keeper straight in the eye. There was no way we were going to mess up now, we were almost the winners and we could taste it.

He took six paces away from the ball in what seemed like an eternity and then, without hesitation, pirouetted and charged towards the ball…

Anyway, we lost as he kicked it wide, straight into the sea, like a nancy sissy girl and we had a scrap. Akira’s recollection may be different, but I’m almost sure that’s what happened.

I remember this one time, at band camp…I was challenged by the lead flute player…he was basically their champion. I didn’t want to end up a nobody, and I had to push myself harder in training to go the distance with the champ.

Basically I put myself through an endless and unbelieveable training program with my good friend and trainer, Mickey Goldmill. This led to a climactic fight at the end of band camp…I didn’t want to win I just had to make it through all 15 rounds, somthing which no one has ever done with the champ. After an intense and brutal beating on the from both me and the champ, I fought with more heart and soul then I think anyone has ever seen in any band camp, I succeeded in lasting all 15 rounds and it ended up essentially a draw. Although the fight was ultimately given to the lead flute player, I managed to do what no one ever expected me to be able to do, last the whole fight.

This is us at the end of the fight…the girl in the back ground once stuck a flute up her…

Who was it?

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/video/watch/80955840/

🙂 Bunch of ‘ard knocks on here. Not had a fight since high school, and that’s pretty much where it should stop too, if you’re still fighting (choosing to rather than being dragged into it) by the age of 18 you’re a bit odd IMO. Never yet come across a situation where a bit of calm adult discussion didn’t dissipate the problem or it get diverted before it started properly but I’m sure there are some as there are plenty of wazzocks out there with the mental age of a 10 year old.

Closest I’ve come is in a bar in Sauchihall street where 3 guys were getting overly rowdy/bouncy and came wading through our group accidentally elbowing someone in the face. They were given a polite warning, on second occurence they were returned to their original side of the room with some help. On third occurence one of them was knocked on his arse with a shove and the bouncers removed them all, still not sure why they chose to be idiotic with a ground with 3 6ft2+ big chaps in it but calm was kept.

About 2002, 4 of us pissed up, ambushed on the way home by eight of them with pool cues and knuckle dusters and one was a ‘professional boxxer’. Still got a ringing ear now. All of us ended up in A&E. Didn’t knock me down though which was some conselation as I’d have prob been kicked to death… Oh and one was female. Police weren’t interested either as there was no cctv.

Another night 3 lads stopped me and my then gf asking for directions and looking for trouble (read pinching her arse) we walked off but they followed swung a few punches at me and clocked the gf as she tried to split it up. Don’t remember what happened after that but ended with two of them rolling on the floor with bust faces and I sort of came round bashing the other ones head on the wing of a parked car.

You win some , loose some!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rvSQSAkZoZc&feature=related

2000. Smashed up a club, broke my hand, got arrested, spent a night in a cell. One of the less admirable parts of my life…

Must have been about 1983 in Wem during the carnival. A whole group of us from Ellesmere were in a bar and it all kicked off, the whole pub just went ballistic. This continued into a second pub and was getting seriously out of hand as one or two peeps had attacked passers by, the other side of that was dodging the pint pot that was thrown at the float that I was on, I was dressed as the policeman if anyone was there. 😈

10 or so years later I met up with a guy from Ellesmere who told me the story, he was too young to have been there, and the follow up that Ellesmere was banned from entering any local carnival for 10 years. 😳

A more recent episode was in Chester city centre, I was talking to a couple of girls outside The Grosvenor when another guy came and started chatting, I thought he knew the girls and everything was fine until he lamped one of them. 😯 Being a gentleman I stepped in, he was arrested and I was a witness. 😀

2004. My GF cheated on me with a guy she worked with, I found out where they were and chose the physical route to retribution. Was all a bit silly really and I wasn’t proud of myself afterwards 🙁

In fact, when I come to think of it, the few fights I’ve had have all involved women for some reason or another! 🙄

Garyglitter, unfortunately you missed the part where I had the machete followed by the part where I was doing 50 down a one way street at 4.30 in the morning in a large suv trying to run the people I was ‘having a disagreement’ with over.

But don’t worry fellow STWers, I’ve calmed down quite a bit since then.

run up to this christmas, wrong end of town, drunk at cash point. Two neds approached me and one said “give us our money”, “just sod off” was my slurred response to which I was awarded a punch in the side of the head and dropped to one knee. I punched/grabbed the donators knackers and rapidly introduced his face to the cash point, his ‘mate’ thought the better option was to to run off, I didn’t bother chasing. I put my wallet back in my pocket, figured that the arse sat on the floor holding his face had had enough so I continued on my evening. not big, not clever, but fair. (imho)

Great troll post this. These type of posts never fail to get the imaginations going of a certain few ..

I ‘m sure there are a few people who actually believe one or two of the stories … the fight at band-camp sounds about the most realistic so far though.

I had a disagreement with a wheelie bin a couple of weeks ago.

Great troll post this. These type of posts never fail to get the imaginations going of a certain few ..

Yeah I’m not sure what is more pathetic, those that seem to relish reliving actually fights they had and those that imagine themselves in some kind of The Equalizer fantasy.

I don’t relish reliving that, the smack on the head was pretty painful if I’m honest and I in no way deserved it, wrong place, wrong state, wrong time.

Growing up in Aberdeen, when the casuals were at their height, it was impossible not to get in a few scrapes. My mum just couldn’t get her head round it; “You must be doing something to wind them up!”. Nope, just walking along trying to avoid eye contact usually….

I ‘m sure there are a few people who actually believe one or two of the stories … the fight at band-camp sounds about the most realistic so far though.

Go on then, which are the true and which are the porkies?

some may have a semblance of truth but as with most stories I reckon they are so far removed from truth, as re telling the tale of the glorious battle numerous times the story drifts from I had a few words to I took the world on and won ha ha

1988 (while in the RN) trying to stop my mate having the living sheeit kicked out of him by 5 bouncers outside a club in Antwerp. They then turned on me and a good kicking (of me) followed. Luckily a few more of our guys turned up to even things up a little before the cops turned up guns drawn… Things stopped rather quickly. I suffered a broken rib and many bruises and also got into trouble back onboard the ship.

Never had a fight since.

If it’s stories you want, I can tell you lots of stories, there was this security firm (doormen) from Ellesmere Port who…… 😈

who what …………………. don’t tease i’ve just made hot milk and cookies in preparation 😈

……who were soft as fluffy bunny rabbits and never hurt anyone, they never picked people up in a Transit van and they never beat the shiiiit out of them while driving around, this never happened and I’m lying.

kind of care in the community social workers then 😆

Great troll post this. These type of posts never fail to get the imaginations going of a certain few ..
I ‘m sure there are a few people who actually believe one or two of the stories … the fight at band-camp sounds about the most realistic so far though.

Some peoples are actually true though, however far fetched it may seem…..

At least I still have the memories (and scars and broken finger).

Go on then, which are the true and which are the porkies?

I would love to hear what he thinks are true or not.

So – my ‘story’ – true or not? (14th down on this page).