One fist of iron, the other of steel. If the first one don't get ya,...
This is inspired by Hazel St. Cricket's blog about her youthful defeat of a bully. Blame Cricket for the spate of "I remember my first fight" blogs, she started it, the little thug! When I was in eighth grade, our family moved to Ann Arbor, Michigan, into a nice quiet middle-class neighborhood. We kids played baseball in a park, three doors down, and one street over, most days during the summer. It drove away boredom and burned off testosterone. In those misty, old days of yesteryear, before... Sign in to see full entry.