My Dad could beat up your dad

My dad grew up in a family of drinkers, fighters, and gamblers. His uncle was a top ranked professional boxer in the 50's who never kept the fighting contained to just the ring. My dad recalls his dad and uncles gambling in the house with people and one guy stabbed in the stomach and laying on the ground bleeding for cheating.

Which leads to my dad who pretty much grew up fighting from childhood through high school. This is out of the norm to me but I guess his whole side of the family just use to get in fights back in these times. Weddings, bars, wherever it was, fights use to go down. I have crazy stories from my dad's side of the family. He came to California from Colorado when he was young because my grandpa crashed into the governor of Colorado while drinking and driving.

But in the end, my dad met my mom who is complete opposite and my dad calmed down before I was born. I've never seen him drink a drop of alcohol (he used to get out of control) and he's pretty much the most laid back guy I know. He's also the most hard working person I know, grew up in construction then moved up to owning his own concrete business.

But I always said if it wasn't for my mom, I would be a big mess because my dad never seemed to think much of the small mess ups I had were a big deal because he grew around way worse.
 
My dad is 69. Marine. Fought in the Vietnam War as forward observation north of the dmz. He saw some serious shit. He's a purple heart, took a 120 pound shell to the shoulder. The shrapnel is still in there. He got into cycling a while ago and still does 50-100 miles a day. He also benches nearly double what I do.

Tl;dr- my dad could beat up your dad
 
My dad's like a sane, non-violent Joe Pesci in Goodfellas and Casino. Kinda looks like him too. A little man but an absolute firecracker and ballsy/confident as all shit. Pretty aggressive but not in a physical way.

As expected, he was a hardass as a father but, somehow, also unbelievably loving and affectionate to my mom and us kids. He makes no sense.
 
My dad is actually one of the most gentle souls you could ever meet. Your dad could probably beat him up, but everyone would think he was an asshole for doing it.
 
My dad has a BB in Judo, speant 5 years in the Navy and 35 as a cop. My uncle (my mom's brother) said my dad was the toughest guy he had seen. (This was well after they divorced BTW) Said he saw him take out three guys at a bar at the same time.

He is also the nicest guy. Never screamed or yelled. It was funny because I was at the station once when he was working and I heard him interrogating some guy. Never knew he could be so scary.
 
MoparOrNoCar said:
My dad has passed away but he was a bit of a bad ass (and crazy...and stupid) back in the day.

At a party with my mom and this biker was trying to hit on her. She told him she was with my dad and the guy was persistent. My dad caught wind of it and grabbed his shotgun out of his truck. He chased after the guy with it and the guy started running down the street. My dad sprayed him in the back with it and then his biker friends knocked my dad down and beat the shit out of him.

They both wound up in adjacent rooms at the same hospital. No one told on the other and they all wound up being cool afterward lol.
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Thought Criminal said:
This is the thread where we brag about how cool or tough our dads were. I dont know about you guys but this discussion came up at least once in my childhood.

Anyway, my dad was a stud linebacker in h.s, went on to become one of those hardworking construction guys. One thing i remember that stands out that he used to do was when i was about 8, he used to wake up at 3 am, go to the gym, lift weights, then go to work construction at 6 am till 5pm.

He always got women too. My moms a beautiful girl and is actually the sister of one of the toughest and feared dudes in our town, my uncle. So my dad had some balls to pull her.

Now and days he aint doin so well. Hes 56, only 10 percent of his heart is working, yet hes still doin manual labor. Alot of his good friends have already passed in their 50s too.

So what about your dads?
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Prime your dad might take my dad but give the frail condition of your old man now my dad would quick work of him. Fight might resemble guillard vs Danzig.
 
My Dad boxed in the Navy and had a temper. But he was great as a father and he mellowed out and is more at peace now. All love with his grandkids. But we grew up in an explosive and athletic neighborhood and he took no shit.
 
ehtheist said:
My dad was born in the mid 1930’s in Germany. He remembers hearing Hitler speak live over the radio. He grew up in an environment where guns where plentiful, bombs killed many of his friends, food was scarce, and some crazy shit went on. His father died in Operation Barbarossa during WWII. He sometimes tells me a story about his teacher as a kid – a priest, who was also a golden gloves boxing champ – would deal with troublesome kids by tying one arm behind his back and beating the crap out of the kid. It happened to him because a much older kid insulted him in school so he waited around a corner for the kid with a plank and put him in the hospital. He speaks fondly of that old priest.


He moved to the U.S., on his own, not speaking English, in his early 20’s because he didn’t want to get drafted in another German war, and made his way across the States as pipefitter, with no family or guidance. He lived a life that’s rough – like, Hollywood rough. Car chases through orchards with cops, once having to escape back to Germany because he sold his car to some guy and then stole it back that night, and it was the wrong guy to pull that crap on. He’s literally cut the chain on a closed Canadian border because he didn’t want his Porsche out in a snowstorm. He had licenses in over 10 states and provinces, back before records were kept digitally, so he could get around having his license taken away in individual states. His friends that I grew up calling “uncle” are a bunch of legbreakers, Hell’s Angels, and one guy who is serving time for murdering a guy who got too pushy asking for drugs. I think Uncle Dave is out soon - I kind of miss going on hunting trips with him. Then there's Uncle Raive who would rip the scalps off of guys he fought with his rings. One time I told him that one of my profs – a guy with a Spanish (see: Mexican) last name – was very rude and negative towards me and might negatively influence my getting into a grad program and I got a call from the head of the local chapter of the Hell’s Angel’s the next day asking if this guy needed to be talked to.

Growing up, he was sometimes gone for months at a time, him working *way* up north in weather that was -40 (Celsius) or lower before the wind chill, 12 hour shifts, oftentimes 7 days a week. He made a bloody fortune on overtime, and he'd come home and teach us to shoot guns, survive in the bush, value knowledge, and not take crap from people.

You north Americans think your dads are tough, but my Papa would kill the parade of pussies that are going to be listed in here. They beat him in a fight? He’s around the corner with a bat. They beat him with the bat? He’s going to come back with a gun. My Papa didn't win every fight, but the son of a bitch who beat him paid.

He is a scary man. I love the old fart. Not many people have lived the life he has. He's almost 80 now and I've spent years on the speech I'll one day give at his funeral, titled "hard man." If they made a movie about the guy, most of you pantywaists would be worshipping him as a "badass" or whatever pop-term you use to refer to people whose crap is bigger than you.
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Literally none of this happened.
 
Exi-Meta-Tran-Man said:
My pops taught me the scissor leg sweep/take-down, and ankle pick take down when I was 7, and he brought me to my first boxing club at 10 years old.

He always emphasized strategy, being a complete striker by being equally proficient from both sides of the body.
Psychological tactics, and mental condition were also stressed.

As an example of his tactics; we were on a fly in fishing trip in northern Manitoba, Canada, portaging and rapid running from lake to lake, when we ran into some problems with a group of 3 men that decided to pitch a camp right next to ours on an island in the middle of the lake, when they could have camped anywhere else, as we were in the middle of a vast lake and forest system with no humans around for 50 miles. My father brought this to their attention and these guys decided to get verbally aggressive (I was twelve at the time). It was a pretty awkward evening to say the least with hearing these guys talking shit about my dad within earshot. We retired to our tent around 10pm, but right before we called it a night, my dad got me to hold the light so he could project the shadow of my air rifle on the walls of the tent. The assholes went quiet immediately, and were gone without a trace by 6 am when we awoke.
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Pulling a weapon on innocent campers makes your dad a selfish coward bro.
 
zackdad.jpg
 
My pops worked 12am - 8am at his regular job and 9am-3pm, at his own biz....6 days a week. Literally. Admirable...but probably led to the massive stroke he had.
 
I legit saw my dad wrestle down a grizzly and then making the girzzly slap it's own face whilst saying "why you hitting yourself? why you hitting yourself"
 
My pops was a pro snowmobile racer from 16-18 years old. Then he became a marine, got a clearance and was a marine guard at a nuclear facility. Then he started his own HVAC buisness from nothing, became a stock car driver, had 2 children and was a good husband, and now is semi retired and works on my race cars.
 
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