Must’ve been anywhere between ’99-’02, right smack dab in the middle of my club and key-bump days, that I got my nose broke for the first time.
I was at a club, doing what I do, getting mean-mugged by 9 out of 10 dudes for my loud brash nonsense. As always, it boiled over and I got into a little “physical misunderstanding” with some guy as douchy as I was at that time. This one took place in a raised balcony area, and it went fairly well for me. I got the best of whomever he was.
Then, a bouncer came over and got in the middle of us. I most certainly wasn’t going to get tossed, and apparently this guy had a little weight behind him, because the bouncer made no attempt to toss him either.
The bouncer placed himself in-between each of us, until it cooled down a bit. After a minute or two, it boiled over again, and us two douchebags we’re jawing face-to-face, our faces an inch apart, with each of us leaning into the bouncers arm, which was the only things that separated us. Then, suddenly, the dude cocked his head, butted me right in the nose, and it exploded with blood, tears, snot, everything. He did a number on my nose.
After I got my wits about me, I remember not being happy, or mad, I was simply smirking. While I had gotten the better of it, that dude “won” that particular battle. I smirked because I deserved and would learn from it. I smirked to give him some “respect” but more in a “you lucky SOB, yeah, you won, I’ll give you props…but you lucky SOB”.
That’s what Sundays game feels like. They won the game, but lost the battle, technically. The Hawks will learn from this and wear a respectful, yet, slightly “you mother….” smirk. They “lost”, but had so many chances to blow them out, and it just didn’t work out that way.
The chances this version of the Hawks loses like that again are about as rare as me getting surprised butted again. Everyone gets their nose broken once.
I was at a club, doing what I do, getting mean-mugged by 9 out of 10 dudes for my loud brash nonsense. As always, it boiled over and I got into a little “physical misunderstanding” with some guy as douchy as I was at that time. This one took place in a raised balcony area, and it went fairly well for me. I got the best of whomever he was.
Then, a bouncer came over and got in the middle of us. I most certainly wasn’t going to get tossed, and apparently this guy had a little weight behind him, because the bouncer made no attempt to toss him either.
The bouncer placed himself in-between each of us, until it cooled down a bit. After a minute or two, it boiled over again, and us two douchebags we’re jawing face-to-face, our faces an inch apart, with each of us leaning into the bouncers arm, which was the only things that separated us. Then, suddenly, the dude cocked his head, butted me right in the nose, and it exploded with blood, tears, snot, everything. He did a number on my nose.
After I got my wits about me, I remember not being happy, or mad, I was simply smirking. While I had gotten the better of it, that dude “won” that particular battle. I smirked because I deserved and would learn from it. I smirked to give him some “respect” but more in a “you lucky SOB, yeah, you won, I’ll give you props…but you lucky SOB”.
That’s what Sundays game feels like. They won the game, but lost the battle, technically. The Hawks will learn from this and wear a respectful, yet, slightly “you mother….” smirk. They “lost”, but had so many chances to blow them out, and it just didn’t work out that way.
The chances this version of the Hawks loses like that again are about as rare as me getting surprised butted again. Everyone gets their nose broken once.
