The Fanciest Fist Fight Ever

Most people equate fighting with masculinity:  It's about causing someone else pain while proving your own physical superiority, with both brute force and skill, and more often than not, success is due to your ability to take punishment rather than your ability to dole it out.  That's why all of our favorite film action heroes feel the need to engage in copious hand-to-hand combat in every film, no matter how unlikely it would really be.  I mean, serious...they have guns, knives, grenades, even tanks and helicopters in the movies, but it always ends the same: John McClane from the "Die Hard" franchise beats the crap out of someone with his bare hands while covered in blood, or the brutish male archetype of Stallone in "Rocky" and "Rambo" spends most of the movie slugging it out hand-to-hand. People just tend to see fighting as manly, and it doesn't seem like that's going to change in the near future.

Notice their guns.  Then watch the film.  Hand-to-hand combat is JUST as important as their weapons, if not more important...

And movies do more than make us LOVE fist fights, they trick us into believing that any time two people fight, especially if they're guys, it'll be a blood bath.  We expect bloody cheeks, black eyes, split-knuckles and needlessly exposed abs, fighting in a display so over-the-top masculine you have to assume that the combatants have at least 2 y chromosomes. Every big name man-movie  involves a few scenes of guys brawling, the heavy smack of fist hitting flesh cracking filling the theater while adoring fans swoon or cringe, depending on the film. Even in monster movies, or robot movies, it somehow comes down to slugging it out.  Seriously, "Transformers", you're ultra-high tech sentient robots, but you have to resort to fisticuffs to make your point?

The first time I saw a real fight, a genuine adult brawl as opposed to a schoolyard tussle, was when I was in high school.  I was in my late teens, and spent most of my afternoons sitting around the school building.  On this particular day I was waiting with a few friends for our play practice to begin. I was sitting on the steps of the auditorium, doing whatever it is that teenage me used to do (I genuinely don't remember, but it's safe to assume it was juvenile and nerdy) when suddenly a cluster of people gathered at the other end of the room, and broke out in gasps and cheers.  Being the easily entertained and very curious young man that I was, I ran across the auditorium stage to see what the fuss was about. I pushed through the circle of onlookers to see what may be one of the most confusingly dressed fights ever witnessed.

There were two seniors shoving each other, both wearing their costumes for the play we were putting on.  That particular year it was a show called "The Scarlet Pimpernel", which meant the costumes involved flowing French garments, and in these two particular guys' cases, tights. As I was just pushing into the circle, another sort of cheer and gasp rang out, as Percy (the name we'll use for the taller, tougher seeming guy) shoved LeFou (the name we'll use for the scrawnier tights-wearing combatant) to the ground.

They both basically looked like this, except paler, and with more acne.

Percy shouted, "I didn't miss the note!  I fucking hit it!  Don't bullshit me, I hit it!"  From the context and Percy's legendary tendency to sing slightly off-key, I guessed that he was probably defending his musical skills. Percy was determined, it seemed, to prove he was a tough guy. After all, there's nothing more masculine than defending your honor about hitting that high note by shoving someone half your size around.

LeFou, the better singer, yelled back, "YOU WERE FLAT, BRO.  FLAT!"  He then proceeded to stand back up and shove Percy in retaliation. That's when someone in the gathered crowd decided to fulfill every possible high-school stereotype and rhythmically chanted, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" while pumping their fist in the air. Aside from feeling like I was in a poorly crafted Disney film, I wasn't moved to join in the chanting because the fight was so clearly one-sided.  Percy was tall, broad-shouldered, and generally tougher.  But, the rest of the crowd seemed enthralled and kept chanting, demanding action. Soon, the rest of the crowd had gathered in completely, and the gathered circle spread out quickly to make a space for the oncoming brawl. They gave Percy and LeFou plenty of room, and it looked like the fight was about to start.

Percy held up his hand for a moment, to stop LeFou as he started forward, fists raised.  "Wait," said Percy, "I don't want to ruin my costume."  He dropped his top layer of fancy costumed coats to the ground, and pulled the ruffles from his collar and wrists, tossing the frilly clothes to the side. He then unbuttoned his second layer of waist-coats, dropped the brightly colored garments to the floor, and took off his several fake gold rings that were part of the costume.  Now standing only in french pantaloons and an old fashioned collared shirt (much more manly without the ruffles and jewelry), Percy put up his fists in his best imitation of an intimidating fighting stance.  Lefou tossed his own ruffles and waist-coats to the side and put up his own fists.

The crowd quieted as the two fighters circled each other.  There was an uncomfortable silence in the air as Percy lunged forward and threw his fist at LeFou's face, as hard as he could.  It missed by inches, and percy was leaning forward with his punch, his face almost touching LeFou's.  The air was still and the crowd waited to see how LeFou would take advantage of Percy's missed attack...

And LeFou kicked Percy straight in the gonads, bitch-slapping his face as Percy fell to the ground from the kick in the crotch.

Except, he also got bitch slapped, and they were wearing tights.  So, even worse.

LeFou, the victor, stood over Percy, and picked up his ruffles and waist-coats.  He slid the coats back on, the crowd watching in total silence, and proceeded to re-button his frilly ruffles back onto his costume. Percy rolled about on the ground for a moment, and managed to squeeze out a muffled groan, and the phrase, "Cheap...shot...bitch.  LeFou, properly dressed in his fanciest costume again then declared, "This isn't a movie, jackass. It's a fight." Lefou then turned around and with his dignified costume in place sauntered away.

And that, dear friends, is how I discovered that movie fights are almost all painfully fake.  I took Tae-Kwon-Do classes for years, sparred literally hundreds of times against dozens of opponents, and brawled nearly daily with my twin brother for most of my young life, and yet it took a man in ruffles, tights, and brightly colored french waist-coats to teach me that in real life, fights don't aren't nearly as cool as they seem on film.And kicking someone in the crotch might not be cool, but it's pretty damn effective.


Hope you enjoyed the story!  Leave a comment below, share on Facebook or Twitter, or comment on the Facebook BB+B page to leave me feedback!  BB+B depends on your input to get better.
There are plenty more fun  stories to come, so check BB+B frequently for updates.
Thanks to you all for sharing and reading!
-Brian, the Author Guy.