The last time I ever got into a fight was back in 9th grade (wow!! that’s over 10 years ago). I am gettin’ old. 
I used to actually be a fighter. Well, not a bully, but I was soooo wierd and acted soooo socially inappropriate, that of course I became a good target. But I learned from my dad to never let myself get pushed around, and when backed in a corner just swing hard and fast and hope for the best. If there’s five people, go for the biggest one first, then the second biggest. Yeah, you’ll probably lose and get beaten to a pulp, but Damnit! get you’re licks in. So I did. I got into a lot of fights almost exclusively in defense (if I may disclaim) and I won most.
My last fight was my first year in high school. A particularly popular kid, one of the most popular in town, was kinda pickin’ on me and trying to take advantage of what he assumed to be my timid nature. He wasn’t huge, about my size, but he stood right up to me “I’ll fight you any time, I’m not afraid of you” he said. So after school in the hallways we fought, and of course immediately we were surrounded by 100’s of students from all grades, mostly shouting for him.
I got him a good shot in the nose and blood poured out all over my hand and dripped into what eventually became a puddle as I held him in a headlock 'till some teachers finally broke it up.
It was a satisfying feeling knowing I had got the better of him, but I was relieved it was over, or so I thought. Immediately after we were broken up and all in a split second I experienced the largest guy in the school’s (infamous for his use of steriods) hand outstretched approaching my neck, his hand actually wrapped around my neck, my feet lifting off the ground, and my body being hurled through the air into the wall behind me. OUCH!!
I was more shaken up in the head than physically hurt, but again relieved it was over, or so I thought…
The next day, I was home (suspended for the day), and in the afternoon I got a visit from someone who, though attending a different high school and 2 years older than myself, I knew immediately on sight. His name was Scott and he was among the top 5 most feared kids in 3 neighborhoods, legendary for his lack of sanity and for his antisocial behavior. He was coming to do a number on me, he actually came to my house and would’ve yanked me out of it. Ironically my mom (a special ed teacher in elementary school) was his teacher in 6th grade and made a connection with him (he had a stroke when he was young and my mom visited him in the hospital), and when he came to the door she, completely ignorant to why he was here, gave him a big warm welcome and smile “Oh Scott, how are you? So nice to see you, how’s your mom, etc.”
He just smiled, didn’t say much, and left, and as my mom closed the front door, another one of the top 5 mfk in 3 n darted out from hiding just to the side of the front door, completely outta sight from my inside POV.
Thanks mom! That was a close one.
But I was relieved that it was over, or so I thought…
This kid who I initially fought was so connected, that I wasn’t able to live a normal life for months. My house was mysteriously egged from time to time, my phone pranked, and I got dirty looks from huge intimidating people everywhere I went (both in school and out). There were rumors that I was going to get jumped by a huge gang (for lack of a better word) of people at any time. Fortunately I never did. But I lived in fear for a while.
It was a horrible way to live, and it amazed me how much the innocent act of fighting had changed from JHS to HS. In JHS you got into a fight and the next day it was almost as if it never happened. Well maybe you would get teased a bit by your adversary’s friends, but rarely would a group threaten to gang up on you physically.
But in HS there was no more one on one fights. If you fought with one you fought with each of his friends, each of which had friends who were also only too eager to get involved. And the safest people (and the biggest wise-asses) were of course those who had the most big friends (or were the big friends themselves).
I guess it’s fortunate in this respect that I grew up in white suburbia. Elsewhere they were and are still substituting weapons for big friends, or combining them for maximum effect.
Now I was a tough kid, heck I even garnered a reputation in some circles as being “crazy” since I never backed down from anyone, and actually fought some pretty big kids, but most striking about these memories is how absolutely helpless I became when the quantity of my enemies multiplied, how timid I became, how difficult it was to walk with my head held high through the halls with pride and confidence. And also, since I really didn’t even know all my enemies (there were so damn many), how paranoid I became. Every stranger who I met around that time I was immediately suspicious of, and defensive towards. It became even more difficult to have a normal social life than it had been.
It’s very difficult to fight a lot of people at once.
MPSIMS