Everyone wants to be a hero and talk about all their wins. At my age I don't want to fight and feel depressed after fighting. Let's put it this way, my dad showed me how to throw a left hook like Joe Frazier and a left hook like Muhammed Ali in the buildup to Ali-Frazier I, and I already knew what a kimura was but didn't know the name "kimura" in 1968. I'm old as f&%*. My last fight was two years ago against a 20 year-old who was about 6' 200 pounds more or less. I won but I'm going to skip all that crap.
I was attacked by someone that I was arguing with. I had got out of bed in a hurry to give this person a ride to an appointment a 30 minute drive away. I threw on the first pair of pants that I could find but didn't grab a belt. I figured that I would drop this person off and go home without ever getting out of the car.
When we got to the destination we had an argument with the other person standing outside of the car with the backdoor on the passenger side open. I was in the driver's seat. He proceeded to get in a kneeling position in the backseat and without warning hit me as hard as he could in the back of the head twice and he wasn't stopping. I opened the driver's door and he exited the car on the passenger side. As I stalked him around the corner of the car, I vaguely took note that my pants were VERY loose. We were directly in front of the public library of a town of 40,000 people. We squared off and as I raised my hands my PANTS FELL. I grabbed them with my left hand, and as I did he threw a short right hand, I rolled with the punch and it did no damage other than knocking my glasses off. At this point I'm faced with the choice of fighting the remainder of the fight in my boxer shorts with my pants at my ankles or use a hand to hold up my pants, which I had already tried with little success. I decided to forget about the pants.
I'll stop the narrative there. How's that for glory? This happened 30 miles from where Tim Sylvia grew up. Yes, it was an embarrassing incident involving shorts - no there was no stain involved. I was told that a police officer watched the entire episode from 100 feet away in his car on a corner street. I think he didn't arrest me because once I gained the top mount position I never punched him. In fact, I let him hit me about 20 times in the top of the head/ forehead which doesn't hurt until he calmed down and realized that I wasn't going to hurt him. He appreciated that I let him up. When I got off him my face scrapped across the prickly hedge and made multiple long scratches from above my eye to my cheek. It looked like he had scratched me very badly but he didn't. When I threw him he landed with his head just under the hedge. (When he got up there was a massive divot in the hard packed soil. He must have taken one hell of a shot to the head when he landed head first but he didn't go unconscious and never appeared hurt.)
This incident was ridiculous, and I told my daughter about it over the telephone the same day because I was such a buffoon (My kids always like to think of their Dad as a fool.) I must have looked like one crazy old man in my boxers with my pants around my ankles trying to do my best Roberto Duran imitation. What a loser!
as it were but I admit I got my ass kicked a few times and also hurt some people pretty bad too. Had over a hundred stitches and staples put in my head and face when I was a lad from being bottled, glassed and got a pretty big scar running through my right eye from a stanley knife. Not proud of it but it is what it is. I got bullied when I was a kid and soon learned that sometimes words just weren't enough to get me out of sticky situations. There are a lot of bad people out there.
