My first rock n'roll was after school, when I was seven this black family wanted me to pay protection money. Mom caught me sneaking the cash and put and end to that, taught me to throw my fists. The next time they asked for their money I started shooting out lefts and rights. They left me alone.
The next time was when I was nine and these white trash brothers took a disliking to me for no reason (probably because my dad didn't stab my mom after getting out of jail.) They jumped me unawares one day, the one came up behind me and pu tme in a bear hug while his brother karate kicked the shit out of me. Not much of a fight on my part as they were scarce the next few weeks. Another time some skater punks took issue, for what I don't remember, their ball boy pulled a skate board, I pulled a stiletto. He backed off.
Then there were the Russians who started moving into Sacto when I was in Middle School. Lots of fights, the first I remember was some little twerp named Pavel round kicking me in the face. Anothe time this sprat and friend try to jump, so I just latch onto him and take him to the ground where I proceeded to make him eat wood chips and punching him in the face, his buddies split fast. Fights in the school yard, fights on the boulevard. And then, then the Battle of Van Alstein Towers where the Ukies seemed to pile up, us American kids got sick of their trying to stake our piece of the Boulevard, so I did my rabble rousing thing and got some boys together and called out some fat fuck kid named Leonard ("the Retard") he came with his boys and set in motion and three day back a forth of rock chucking and broom stick swinging, and face mashing: one time I remembering I got cut off and made a break by going up instead of down and away, some Armenian shits tried to gang rush me. It final came to an end on the third day when the police were finally called.
Then High School in Kansas, angry trailer park boys with no diversions in a town of 400 people except pot, poon, weights, and fighting. This one wiry dip shit would always run his mouth while riding by or back up by his older cousins, until one day he made the mistake of walking by instead of driving, so naturally I chase him down and corner his ass, all while he is crying "are you 18? are you 18? 'cause I am only fifteen!" to which I answered, "not for another two months..." Even though he had quite a reach on me I drilled him up and down the street until he begged for mercy at which point i made it clear I was sick of his shit. Of course the county sheriff didn't show up until a half an hour later, but at least I got to make him look like a bitch in front of aunt and uncle. Another time I had one of his friends flip me off in a shitty little Ford Escort and proceed to drive away on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. I was driving a Bronco and chased them for a few miles as I menced their crap wagon. Another time this asshole who liked to swerve on the one lane high way that conected our town with the world. Well one day I took him up on his offer and pulled into his lane and went wide open. Almost crapped myself laughing when closing at a quarter mile he pulled off at full speed into a ditch. Then there was the midnight shooting club which at one point ended up in a Mexican stand off.
Truthfully, I fucking hated Kansas.
Then there was college in Pittburgh, and I discovered alcohol and Muay Thai. Hilarity ensured. There is more but the fights started to get less fun and more real as time went on until I earned the Knightly Order of the Titanium Plates.