Not sure what to start with...

I remember when I was a youth, just getting out from a Boy Scout meeting - they were not pleased with me. I was running across the gym floor and one of the kids caught up with me so I grabbed his elbows really tight, digging my thumbs into the inside of the joint. I squeezed and he dropped to his knees screaming in pain. I let him go and backed off when the rest arrived. I got the crap beat out of me but I took 2 more down. I never really understood what set them off but i never got past tenderfoot in the boy scouts.

I did not like to fight, on the other hand, my brother took up boxing at the gym. His trainer was an ex-boxer who was strict - no fighting on the streets unless they started it. So my brother would stand on the corner with a pink ribbon in his hair. I must have been around 8-10 yo so he was about 10-12; we grew up in Montana so you can imagine how other boys his age responded to the pink ribbon in his hair. He got a lot of practice street fighting w/o violating the gym 'code of conduct'. Sometimes, the kids would gang up on him and beat the crap out of him but that stopped after he hunted them down one by one. When things started to get out of hand, a kid named Gail Maroney (sp?) showed up - Gail was huge, at age 11 was already a strong horseman used to working fenceline in mid-winters. The 2 were made for each other - Gerry had speed, strength and skill while Gail had size, strength and a 'berzerker' mentality.