Tales of The Beatdown
Just for fun, I thought I would post a few sordid tales of me getting t3h b3atdown applied to various body parts. Instead of telling everyone how much of a badass I am by talking about the times I took on multitudes of evil ninjas with nothing but my nunchaku and a copy of Ashida Kim's Ninja Mind Control, I prefer to talk about all the times I got the living crap kicked out of me for being stupid, drunk, over-confident or both.
Chapter 1: Fighting Multiple Opponents is Awesome!
New Olreans, Mardis Gras 1992
Hanging out with my fraternity brothers, all of us very drunk in the early evening while in the French Quarter, we ran into some hot chicks that wanted to hang out with us (no idea why, possibly the heavy drinking involved). As we were walking down the street, one of the said girl's boyfriend/stalker/whatever sees her and has a few words with one of my friends. He, being the peacable type shrugs his shoulders and says screw it, and walks away. As he turns to go get another drink the offender decides that this is a good time to become a badass and gives him a hard hook to the back of the head.
I am behind both of them, watching the scene. Being stupid, young, and drunk, I decided that hitting a guy in the back of the head as hard as you can as he is walking away from a fight was deserving of some serious ass kicking. Since I was behind this jerkoff, I figured I would return the favor by hitting him while he wasn't looking. So I give him a lunge punch from the side and get him in a rear headlock (I would say RNC if I had actually known what that was at the time, but I just went for the headlock from behind for no particularly good reason). He flailed around and I started to lose my balance, so I stupidly let go with one hand and gave him a few pathetic shots to the ribs, probably hurting my hand more than his mid-section.
It was about this moment that I actually "lost time", kind of like you read about in alien abductions but in this case it was because being young, drunk and stupid I forgot to check and see if he had any buddies with him. I also forgot to check and see if my own friends were complete pussies who would stand there and giggle as I got jumped and thrashed by 5 or 6 pissed off guys. (From the post-game commentary much later, I gather that two of his friends grabbed me from behind, threw me to the ground on my head, while the other two proceeded to kick me into a bloody pulp while my so-called friends just sat there sipping their beers and chatting up the drunk girls).
The next thing I remember was coming to on my hands and knees and feeling some nice sharp pains in my ribs, which were coming from a pair of feet kicking me there. I actually had a moment to think about how much it hurt before I saw a pair of legs directly in front of me. Apparently I had a little fight left so I went for a terrible double-leg takedown. I actually got a hold of the legs and began pulling them towards me when I was distracted by a steel-toed pointy cowboy boot taking a careful back-swing and finding it's way directly into my eyebrow (just missed the eye).
When I came to the second time it must have been a few minutes later, everybody was gone, and my eye felt like somebody slipped a golf ball under it as it started to swell up. There was a nice gush of blood from the cut where the boot got me as well. The one decent friend of mine left helped me up and informed me that the cops came, took the other dudes away, and just left me sprawled out in the street. We went to the med tent, they stuck a band aid on it, and we went out for some Hurricanes to dull the pain.
That was just the beginning of the night, much more to tell but it didn't involve actually fighting anymore. Unless you count the tranny hooker that mugged me by knife-point as I was stumbling around trying to find my hotel (all I had left was 25 bucks at that point anyway). But that kids, is another story altogether....
last time i got beat fairly badly?
i got crossfaced to hell the last party i was at when my drunk ass decides i can tap out a state champ wrestler at my school...i could maintain some positional dominance, but subs from the guard werent very natural in my inebriated state
it's hard to believe drunk fraternity brothers would get in a fight at Mardi Gras, I call BS
I like this thread nzeman, I want to read beatdown stories.
This happened during rugby, but it involved a fight and I got beat down.
My friend John and I used to play Rugby (football) for RSL a polynesian team, we were the only white guys on the team, anyway, we got a new coach that wouldn't put us in the first 15 if there were other guys that were polynesian there.
So we changed teams to Bayside. So even though they didn't always give us a full game they were very annoyed when we left.
One Saturday, we played a game for Bayside, then after the game, the coach from another team said he only had 13 players and did anyone want to play another game for them.
So we both said yes.
The team was the Humpty Doo swamp dogs, and if you think that was bad the cheerleaders were the humpty doo swamp dogettes, they didn't have a full set of teeth between them, and it was uncommon for them to have children to more than one player on the team, or to both smoke and drink whilst breastfeeding, whilst doing there cheers.
About 15 minutes into the game, my friend John tackles the Prop from RSL over the side line, whilst he is on the ground, another of their players runs over and starts punching him in the head. So one in all in, I run and crashtackle the player punching John.
Next minute I am getting the living crap knocked out of me by about 5 - 10 guys, just smashing me. I look over to see where the rest of the team are, expecting to be having a 15 vs 15 fight, and the 13 of them are standing in the middle of the field getting drinks and watching whilst me and my friend are 2 vs 15 and getting smashed.
The last thing I remember is a guy holding each of my arms, then a third running in from 5 metres away with a huge superman punch right between the eyes.
I was only out for like a second, then they all sort of wandered away to get drinks, and me and John are lying on the sideline, and the Humpty Doo coach walks up and says oh well thanks anyway, then they play on.
I had two massive black eyes for 2 1/2 weeks.
Yeah, don't you just love it when your friends sit around and watch as you get the living crap knocked out of you?
Sounds like you guys needed t3h r34l _ing __un.
Multiple attackers are nothing to that.
I beat up 10 BJJers in an alley last week. True Story.
See, living proof.
But....I thought only Virus had t3h r34l _ing __un, Axelton?
Nah Virus has fake Wing Chun. I saw his Shifu get mauled by a CKDer on Youtube.
Originally Posted by Jontan937
Chapter 2: Your Friends Are Idiots, But You Just Have To Deal With It...
Lexington, KY 1996
I am a little older, a little wiser, but I still manage to get stuck in moronic situations. I had just started graduate school at the University of Kentucky, some of my buddies were still in undergraduate living in Lexington. Undergraduate meant a lot of beer, frat parties, and stupid fights. Yay for me.
I went out with a buddy named Josh, who was a pretty big guy known for beating the living crap out of random people that pissed him off. The strange thing was, he was an incredibly nice guy if he was your friend, loyal, decent, and pretty intelligent. But he had a seriously dark streak, probably from some personal demons or something. A friend of his tagged along, a douche bag hippy pot smoker type that I really didn't like much, he probably takes Aikido now. On the way back from the bar we are walking towards Hippy Boy's apartment and a flashy red car zooms up the alley. Josh starts what looks like a conversation with the driver, I am kind of zoned out a little as I think about getting in bed and passing out for about 10 hours. I was only a block away from my apartment. Suddenly Josh kicks the **** out of the car door, two guys jump out and one of them makes a beeline for me. I am still trying to figure out exactly what the deal is when the guy crashes into me and we both go rolling on the ground. I think a few lame elbows were thrown here or there, nothing to speak of, when all of the sudden this guy gets up like I had a gun or something and I see both of them running off like a couple of sissies. This guy was about 8 inches taller than me and although he was lanky, he was more muscular than I was. Plus I couldn't fight my way out of a paper bag and I probably looked like it.
As I am gathering my wits and screaming "what the ****?!" at Josh to try and figure out what just happened, I see Hippy Boy running up the stairs to his apartment looking like he is about to **** his pants or something (what a *****, we'll get to him later). I turn around and about 5 to 6 guys, including the two from the car (which is still sitting there in the alley) are walking towards us like some kind of badasses or something. They are typical frat boys, beer guts, some big, some small but nobody really intimidating.
As the two of us turn to face the 5 of them, Josh doesn't miss a beat. I get the feeling he has been in a lot of beatdowns, one way or the other, and wasn't much for pissing his pants. I was to unimpressed with these idiots to really be afraid, but I certainly wasn't crazy about the situation as it was developing. Josh puffs out his big chest and starts telling them to **** off. Now I am starting to doubt this guys sanity, but I am stuck here and I'll go to the hospital before I run off like some *****. After a few pointless **** yous and such a gentleman's agreement is aranged in which the offended parties (being the driver and Josh) would fight one on one. It sounded good to me. Hell, it sounded great to me! I got to watch a sanctioned fight from the sidelines without the pain of getting beat up myself. Awesome.
So the two square off, the driver guy, who is a fat piece of ****, throws one haymaker, they clinch, Josh starts with the heavy uppercuts and pulls the shirt over driver guy's head. Things are looking pretty good, this guy is about to get the beatdown while I sip my beer and watch. But of course gentlemen's agreements only seem to work if your party is winning, and I guess the frat boys got tired of watching their friend get his teeth knocked out so they decide it's time to do the rescue mission and gang beat Josh. Now this is a bad moment for me. I am forgotten, sitting there, watching 5 or 6 guys toss my buddy on the ground and start the kicking (I had a flashback to Mardis Gras right there). Well, outnumbered and lame fighter I am I'm not going to sit there like an idiot. I do the bum rush on one guy from behind, I feel a few bodies entangling me and I throw some cheap shots wherever I can land them. I am losing my balance, though, and somebody pins my arms as I see a fist cock back pretty far and slow motion-like, come flying through the air straight into my mouth. The funny thing is, this guy must have been some kind of sissy because all he did with that huge punch was bust my lip a little bit. Then somebody hit me with a side-punch and they all ran away. That one hurt, but no real damage was done. As I am looking up, a few black guys were standing near us, asking if we needed any help. I look up at the aparetment and see Hippy Boy looking through the window from behind the shades. I guess he needed to change his diaper or something. Anyway, the black guys help me up, offer to beat the crap out of the other guys, but I was more worried about Josh, who had taken a lot of kicks in the fetal position. I told him the cops were coming, and he got up ran straight to his apartment, and locked the door. I decided to go home, took some aspirin, and went to bed. I saw him the next day, pretty bruised and beaten, but he was OK other than that. I had a busted up lip and face from the punches, and all the skin on my arms was torn up from the pavement, but I was a lot better off than him. I always felt bad that he took a beating and I couldn't do much about it, but then again he started the damn fight to begin with.
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