This happened to me once. It was my sophomore year of high school, and this freshman -- a white kid who insisted people call him "T-Dog" -- got the idea in his head that he could gain some credibility if he beat me up.

The problem was I was 5'10" and 190lbs, while he was 5'4" and 125lbs. Maybe. Also, he didn't know how to fight at all, and I was taught to fight by my dad, a psycho former Green Beret with no sense of propriety.

So T-Dogg came up to me, talked some shit, then threw a punch -- a heavily telegraphed overhand right cross, almost a haymaker -- and I blocked it. Then he thew the exact same punch at me four times in a row. I blocked the first three, but by the time he went to throw the fourth I was finally pissed off, so instead of blocking I just reached out, grabbed him with both hands, picked him up and threw him headfirst into the ground. At which point the fight was over.

You'd think that'd be the end of the story, but three years later -- a year after I graduated -- I was getting off a bus around midnight, and ran into him waiting for a different bus at the same stop. He'd grown to 5'8" and maybe 150lbs, while I was now 6'2" and 210lbs. He got in my face and started talking shit. I took off my glasses, folded them, slid them into my pocket and then looked him straight in the eye. He reached out to shove me, but I didn't move. He wound up for that exact same punch (!?!), but I didn't wait for it, and tossed him a hard right jab that caught him right below the eye and dropped him instantly.

The point of this story is not that I am some wicked badass, because I'm totally not. This kid was just the worst fighter ever, and had no idea what his own limitations were.