Board 8 > Fourteen years ago today.

(+) Yeah! (+)

Fourteen years ago today, I shattered a guy's testicle. I think it was his left one.

Three-part story, coming up.
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PogChamp
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14 years ago today it was about an hour and 40 minutes until Link vs. Aiai launched SC2K3.
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We're talking about a testicle-smashing here, not a Super Monkey Ball-smashing.
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is it bad that I saw this topic and said 'he shattered a testicle' in my head? like I just assumed it had to be this?
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Seabass nailed me in the 15-topic, you nailed me in this 14-topic...and I'm not making a 4-topic, but Seabass/Wang/meche could nail me on that too (NYC premiere for ONLINE FIGHTING).

It's an interesting day. While we're at it, happy fiscal new year!
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14 years ago tomorrow I discovered these contests for the first time
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PART ONE

It was July 1st, 2003 -- the summer before my senior year of high school. I'm almost eighteen and had just been no-showed on a date out of town by a girl on her own birthday. I drive back to my town disappointed, so I decide to ride around the square before going home. In my small town, that's about all the excitement there is to find there. It's how you see who all was around to hang out with each night. I'm also driving a new car I got about a week ago for an early eighteenth birthday present...so I didn't wanna go home on just the sad note of being deserted.

I get to the square and my friend Lodi is there. He's a freshmen who is openly drinking beers from the truckbed in the middle of town this night, so a story seemed sure to be right here. Little did I know...! I pull in and get out, just wanting to catch up a minute. Instead, he points behind me right away with a warning.

"You don't wanna be here tonight."

I turn around and see two people arguing. Trint was an upcoming junior, and he was screaming at the top of his lungs; I later find out he is drunk, high, and pilled up at this time. BK is my age and he always has his distinct cowboy hat on. On this night, he is calmly trying to deescalate the situation -- "Now Trint, just chill the fuck out."

I see the mess brewing and consider Lodi's warning; there is no need for tonight to get any worse. I turn around and start to get back into my car. However, I hear Trint scream my name from behind me. I spin back around and see him storming toward me.

"GET IN YOUR CAR!"
"I will if you step away, okay?"

Trint immediately punches me in my left temple. This should have been game over right away, but I allow it to be strike one. I'm still trying to negotiate with him in an effort to keep my new car safe, but I'm harsher about it now.

"Trint, get the fuck away and I'll leave."

Trint then grabs my new car's door -- strike two -- and slams it on me -- strike three. I've been in many fights before this but I have no desire to be in another fight here. Trint's abusing my passiveness though -- he's probably too scared to fight BJ so he's taking it out on me -- so I decide I'm going to make real short work here.
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Tag
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redrocket_pub posted...

Tag

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trdl23 posted...

redrocket_pub posted...

Tag

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red sox 777 posted...

14 years ago today it was about an hour and 40 minutes until Link vs. Aiai launched SC2K3.

Wait, that match started at 2:00 AM EST? The site was running on CST back then instead of PST, so the matches should have started around 1:00 AM EST. I'm aware the match start times weren't consistent back then with CJayC manually putting up the matches.
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I size Trint up, then I let my legs that were squatting 450 pounds at the time do what I think will be the end of this. I take a step forward with my left leg, then I take my right leg and raise my knee as hard as I can between Trint's legs.

This should have been over right here -- he should have fallen, buckled, screamed, or any sign at all like that so I'd know it was over. Instead, he stumbles back a step and kinda jerks his head in a weird way...so is it really over? I don't take the chance. I'm bench-pressing 230 pounds around this time, and I jab Trint straight in the nose with my right fist.

I instantly know it's a good hit because his nose explodes with blood -- to the point that there was still a puddle of blood on the square the next day -- but Trint is still standing and looking menacingly at me. I panic here and put him in a headlock to figure out what it's gonna take.

Trint's cussing me out from this bad position he's in while I'm yelling at him to leave me alone. I eventually bluff him and said I'll gouge his eyes with my car keys if he doesn't get back, and he thankfully backs off...for a moment. I shove him away and get in my new car to pull aout of there. Trint sticks his head in my open window and screams though, now a bloody mess. He was a horrifying monster in this moment, and it ends with him spitting blood all over my face and new car's interior. With almost no time wasted, I name my new car (Bloody) Mary.

This was a bad day to wear white. I pull into a friend's house first to clean up before I go home, but there's no real help to be had. The side of my shirt is soaked in red from the headlock, there's blood speckled across my face and hair, and it's staining all over the inside of my car. My friend opened his home's door and said "Damn man, where did you bury the body?!" I clean up a little, go home, and explain what happened to my parents. Things are pretty well okay for the moment.

The next day, I get a phonecall at home. My mom answers, asks me to pick up, and stays on the phone when I answer. Trint had called me, telling me to fight him like a man and that he's got two fists and a baseball bat with my name on it. My mom hears all this and jumps in.

"Well, you started it."

A pause.

"Shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch."

I have a window in my bedroom with a view into the kitchen, where I see my mom's jaw drop at this moment. We both hang up and I'm now ready to really whip his ass this time. My parents ground me over this -- not so much because I'm wrong as it is important that I stay smart and safe.

Information trickles in the rest of this week. My friends think I'm THE biggest pussy around for breaking mancode -- like any of them had been forced into as many fights as me before. A police officer I know tells me Trint was bloody and blindly wandering the streets until he got to the police station, where he was complaining about his nose. There were no other complaints from Trint there except his nose -- the police had no awareness of what else had happened to him before the punch. Rumors are quickly told by people I don't know that I study karate...not true.

The biggest info came from Trint's cousin though. She tells me when Trint called me he was actually calling from the hospital. Doctors discovered that a testicle had shattered upon contact, so they cleaned his scrotum's fragments out and replaced the damaged goods with a rubber ball to make things look normal again.

My gut sinks. My parents had always raised me to never hit a man in the privates, and this must be why. I pray for my first time ever that Trint will find peace, but I know deep down this prayer won't be answered anytime soon. I now have a life-long enemy...and we begin school together again in a month.

I really wish my date would have showed up earlier that day. She'll never know how much that changed our lives.
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PART TWO

It was the middle of November, 2003. I'm now eighteen and transitioning from football season to basketball season. Trint and I have some run-ins since school began, mostly of him yelling at me when he thought teachers weren't around. It never got physical though...until this day.

My best friend and I are walking out of the school office down the main hallway. I see Trint walking toward us, which I ignore and don't pay any attention to...until he runs his shoulder into me. He probably thinks he could shoulder-check me and keep on walking just because he got away with yelling at me a few times.

I turn around to shove him, but I stop just in time because of two reasons:

1) I'm eighteen now and don't want to risk legal trouble.
2) I see the Vice Principal is right in front of us -- with his back turned and unaware, but still nearby.

So I stop myself before I fully extend my arms, but Trint turns around and sees me frozen mid-motion...so he decides this is his chance to really make a scene with me. He gets in my face and calls me a bunch of names: motherfucker, bitch, bastard -- you know, the classics. The Vice Principal is still unaware, but the rest of the kids in the hall are circling now and are well aware of our history.

So, I ain't taking this abuse anymore. If Trint insists on bringing up this issue, let's settle it. He wants to call me all these names that don't mean anything to me? Okay. I got one name for him that's gonna mean everything. I step toward him.

"Oh yeah? Well you're a one-balled freak."

Trint continues insulting me until he realizes what I said.

"You wuss, you punk-ass, you son of a -- WAIT, WHAT?!"

And just like that, the rematch is on.
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15 years ago yesterday I created this account.



Tag
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Trint immediately swings, once again hooking me in my left temple...should have learned that was his go-to by now. We scuffle it out from here -- wild swings, shirt-grabs, whatever -- until the Vice Principal finally realizes what's happening and breaks it up. He drags Trint to the Principal's office while I'm taken away to the Guidance Counseler's office.

It's important to be clear how close these offices are to each other. They are both in the middle of this hallway past the main office about four feet apart, and their doors face each other on opposite sides of this hall. My door has a window while his door does not, so I can always see anybody walking in and out of his room.

Trint is taken in front of me to that door on the left side of the hallway by the Vice Principal, then I'm guided to the door on the right side by the Guidance Counseler. I'm given an ice pack and am asked to explain what happened. While I tell my side of the story, I see the Principal and Student Resource Officer enter Trint's room from my door's window. It's decided that I'm not gonna be in trouble but I need to stay away from people awhile, so I'm asked to stay in her office the rest of this next class period. She locks the door and leaves as I lean back in her chair, looking out the window.

Some time passes. Eventually, the Principal's door opens. Trint walks out first in front of the three other adults, and we lock eyes through my door's window. I'm relaxed in this staff chair with my ice pack, and I know the door is locked. I also don't know what to do when making eye contact with somebody I just called a one-balled freak. So...some combination of those factors led me to the single movement I made here: one of those "'Sup?" nods.

This generally mild-mannered gesture is enough to make this boy break bad. He goes berserk and charges at my door. Since my door is locked though, I had the best seat in the house for this next moment; Trint busts his head on the door's window, falls down, gets back up, and then gets FULL-NELSON SLAMMED BACK DOWN ONTO TILE BY THE OFFICER. That officer puts him in handcuffs and drags him away to juvie. It was one of the sweetest things I've ever seen.

I find out later at home that Trint knew he was wrong to fight me on July 1st and he was wrong again to fight me this day too. Trint tells them the only reason he wanted to fight me in July was because he just didn't like me...that's it, just didn't like me. He said all this right before my little head-nod, and now he's been arrested over the issue. I'm not sure what emotion is strong enough for how he feels about me at this moment.

This problem has proven to get physical again now, so my family sets up a meeting for us to get a restraining order. I don't really know that this restraining order was 100% completed, but Dad did take me to the courthouse. I see Trint there and meet his dad. Things are more or less cordial here; I learn our dads used to have beers together once upon a time. I watch Trint talk briefly with the judge.

I don't see Trint again for another three or four months, but just because he's not gonna be around awhile doesn't mean drama can't still happen.
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what kind of name is Trint

tag
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I agree, Trent > Trint.
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You did everything right. Gave him opportunity to back down, and then defended yourself with as much audacity as possible.

And even after getting his nut shattered, he still didn't learn his lesson.

You have absolutely nothing to feel sorry for. That is the first thing all self defense instructors will tell you to do. Nut shot. Ballgame.
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Woah don't jump the gun ExTha, there's still a part 3
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ExThaNemesis posted...

Nut shot. Ballgame.

I'm not sure if you intended to make this pun, but it is wonderful.
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Tag
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trdl23 posted...

ExThaNemesis posted...

Nut shot. Ballgame.

I'm not sure if you intended to make this pun, but it is wonderful.

ty
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You're right ExTha, though that doesn't mean the nice guy-side of me doesn't still feel the weight of guilt. I'll touch on that more at the end of the story.
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PART THREE

It was the middle of January, 2004. It's my last semester of high school and I've already been accepted into the one college I wanted (Go Big Orange!). My schedule's sweet and I have this Botany class with a bunch of friends of mine. Things are good, until the role call.

The teacher reads everyone's names and Trint's name is read aloud. He's not here though -- he's still suspended from school. Some classmates look at me for my reaction. I wait until after class to talk with the teacher about my history with Trint; it's her first year teaching and she may not have been in the loop of this weird BS. My hope is that me doing the right thing here will allow me to stay in the class and kick him out, especially since he's still suspended and not around. The teacher makes a note and we move on.

Next day, the Principal wants to talk with me. I'm told that I'm being removed from Botany and am being placed in ACT Prep, and I am furious. Not only am I being removed from the class I wanted for someone not attending our school now, I'm being placed in a class designed to help students get into college...when I've already been accepted. I feel punished.

I ask why this is happening, and the policy for No Child Left Behind comes up. You see, Trint never did well in school and he couldn't be expected to succeed in a class like ACT Prep. Since the only other classroom with available seats at that time was Botany, he had to be in that class...and even though he's suspended for repeatedly trying to mess with me, I'm the one who has to be removed because WHAT IF HE COMES BACK? And now, for me, the only class left from there with space available was ACT Prep. I wasn't happy, I told the Principal I wasn't happy, and she said that was the way it had to be.

I go home, fully confident I've been wronged...and I ain't taking it. I get on my computer and type up a one-page petition explaining my position. It covers a brief history with Trint, the reasons why I shouldn't be switching classes, and a call to action: sign the petition and tell the staff this is wrong to remove me from class.

I print enough petitions for every class to have a copy all four periods of the day, and then I sleep soundly in anticipation of tomorrow's certain justice.
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Oh god not a petition

What have you done
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Yeah, sorry to be all political. I told some people I was wronged by this thing Republicans and Democrats agreed on at the time.
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The next day, petitions are circulating and high-fives are a-plenty. My heart feels heavy this day because I'm working fast before class to cover the whole school, then the next hour and a half I'm having to sit still in anticipation of it all. First period goes great; I pick up signed petitions during the break, then I rinse-lather-repeat for second period. I'm looking forward to handing this huge pile of petitions over at the end of the day.

Toward the end of second period though, I'm in Agriculture and I hear this real angry announcement over the intercom: "HARRICH, PLEASE COME TO THE OFFICE -- HARRICH." The Ag-class ooooohs and aaaaahs at me, and a friend sings Bob Marley at me.

"GET UP, STAND UP -- STAND UP FOR YOUR RIGHTS!"

I take my signed petitions and walk down what feels like the longest emptiest hallway. I get to the Principal's office, where she and the Vice Principal await me. Surprise -- they're pretty mad! They are sure to repeat everything she said yesterday, this time louder than before. I'm giving it right back to them, this time loving the fact that I can point to signatures from multiple pages to back me up. We leave at a stand-still...nothing has changed. I'm still expected to stay in ACT Prep and I just need to get over it.

I go home, ready to kick it up a notch and talk with the Superintendent...but I've been intercepted by my parents. These people are clever alright. The staff had called my family five times through-out the day about this petition situation and everybody's ready for it to end. It doesn't help that the staff I'm arguing with were once family friends (before I was born, but still). I try to clarify that this isn't about individual staff members but rather the system itself, but it's not a good feeling to not have your family with you in this time of need. I deflate and accept the lame fate the George W. Bush Administration had decided on through bi-partisan agreement for me. In hindsight though, I wish I would have fought that battle more because the policy sucks and teachers have complained about it ever since...but my parents were happier now too, so I guess whatever.

So, about Trint: what happened with Trint? He returns to school about a month later, stays for a week, and transfers to a different school afterward. I hope the school is happy with their decisions. They'd be the only ones.

Never should have told the teacher my history with Trint. Leave no good deed unpunished......
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OTHER LOOSE ENDS

So those are the three big parts I think of in this unfortunate situation, but I did see Trint two more times since the petitions were written.

The first time was during his one week back to school. He randomly sits right beside me one day during lunch. My friends and I are just talking anyway, no big deal. He doesn't say anything, and none of us say anything to him...except me. I should have just gone without talking to him, but he's closest to the salt shaker and my food needs some salt...so, yeah, I ask him to "pass the salt please." He passes it, I say thanks, and we say nothing else. Looking back, I wonder how close I was to death that day.

The only other time I saw him was that summer. He comes out of nowhere to the boatdock I'm working at and shakes my hand, then he asks me if I can help him get a job there. I liiiiieeeee lie lie and say sure I can! He leaves, and I tell everybody not to hire him. I appreciate the handshake, yes, but there ain't any way I'm gonna work with him in that scenario. Even if Trint's on his best behavior, I don't trust my co-workers to never make snide comments to either of us and rekindle the rift between us. I'm not enabling that.

So everything I've told you happened in about a year, and I never saw Trint again after that handshake. I worry about him sometimes though -- I know I shook up his life in a way I never intended, and there's no telling what a year like this does to a man's psyche. I've heard he's been in jail a few times, including I think July 1st, 2013 -- ten years after our first encounter. That same day, I was in my NYC directing/writing debut and drunkenly butt-bouncing my friends to no end in a bar. My life choices ain't perfect, but it's been a strong reminder to me that life's choices do matter. I don't know what Trint is doing nowadays -- I heard he was arrested again about six months ago, but that's about it.
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I'll close on this: I've had many conflicting feelings on how I handled that life-changing night. Again, I never intended for permanent damage, but Trint forced me to defend myself when I was more than patient. Sometimes I think back seriously on this issue and don't find it funny at all. Sometimes I review it with light-hearted humor, and it's probably not a coincidence some of the plays I've written have comedic nutshots (and worse).

I'm tired of feeling guilty for defending myself in that fight and arguing with other people over mancode...but then a year later I got ambushed at my own birthday party by a pair of brothers I didn't know, and I didn't do a low blow to defend myself then because of all the shit caused that I've already explained here. It was also real annoying to hear my friends tell me after this same ambush that it would have been okay to throw a low blow there to defend myself -- stop deciding what is and isn't okay to do in self defense in these random attacks! These friends trying to once again decide when nut-shots in self defense are okay have rarely been in fights and they don't know the fear that comes with deciding when to use them. I didn't ask for any of this, so fuck mancode -- this isn't a sport, an agreed-upon duel, or anything of the sort. If you find yourself getting assaulted, I believe you should defend yourself as best as you see fit!

It's been a lot of grief for me, and yet I can't stop feeling some sympathy for Trint because his grief must be so much worse. I never deserved my grief and I never wanted to be in a position to cause his grief, but fourteen years later I still can't help it -- I'm sympathetic to a degree. I regret nothing about protecting myself, but the guilt weighs heavy anyway and people don't always grasp what all can mentally come with an experience like this.

It's a lot of feelings and I think back on the event often. A friend recently called me out on it, saying she can't bring it up without me flip-flopping between emotions awhile on the issue. I don't mind her bringing it up though, except for the times she's introduced me to new people as "Hey, did you know this guy smashed a dude's ball before?" Awkward.....

Hit low if you believe you must, and do it without fear if that's what it takes to protect yourself in self-defense. Just know in this scenario for me personally, it came with many emotions including the paranoid fear of ever meeting this man again who has surely forever blacklisted me.

I don't know how many times Trint scratched his nuts, adjusted his underwear, went to pee, got morning wood, had wet dreams, jerked off, had sex, had a stranger brush against his junk, had random aching pains down there, or just felt a little uneven that day for whatever reason. However, I bet in many of those times since then, he's thought of July 1st, 2003 and has taken his anger out on someone who didn't deserve it...and I bet many of those times he wished he was taking his anger out on me again instead, despite everything it cost him both times he's tried. I could be wrong, but it's scary.

It makes for a decent story though.

AMA
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Tag so I can read this later.
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Once a ball crusher, always a ball crusher. You should have just embraced it and seen how many more notches you could add to your belt IMO.
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We can't all be AlecTrevelyan006.
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HaRRicH posted...

AMA

How much?
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AlecTrevelyan006. Yes... he was brilliant. Perhaps too brilliant...
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Forceful_Dragon posted...

HaRRicH posted...

AMA

How much?

Tree-fitty.
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How was the Liberal Redneck involved?
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HaRRicH posted...

So...some combination of those factors led me to the single movement I made here: one of those "'Sup?" nods.

LOL'd here
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woodman posted...

How was the Liberal Redneck involved?

Trae was one of the friends both saying I shouldn't have hit Trint there in 2003 and saying it would have been fully understandable to hit those brothers there in 2004. He was also at the lunch table with me the day Trint sat beside me. Oh, and that rumor about me knowing karate? His mom was spreading that (I never knew her; she just wasn't around).

Last, he was in ACT Prep with me when I was booted from Botany. He was also accepted into the same college as me at that time and by the time I was transferred into that class, the real teacher had to leave for the semester so we had a sub for the rest of the year. For our public school, this meant we played board games all class long and got good grades for it...the switch from Botany wasn't so bad in this way, but I had a lot of other friends in Botany too and the principle matters!
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HaRRicH posted...

but then a year later I got ambushed at my own birthday party by a pair of brothers I didn't know

how do you get beat up so often for seemingly no reason
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MZero11 posted...

HaRRicH posted...

but then a year later I got ambushed at my own birthday party by a pair of brothers I didn't know

how do you get beat up so often for seemingly no reason

I didn't do a good job defending myself as a kid and that crept up as I grew older. People used to fight me just for knowing what Metroid was; I got branded as the video game-kid and I didn't really escape that until I moved away after high school. I also have a tendency for not giving up when I think I'm right...that hasn't always flown well with people, but most fights I've had were fights where the other person/people attacked first.

For those aforementioned brothers, they were also attacking other people thst night. A mutual friend of ours invites these two fucks and wouldn't stop them when they started attacking people, and a lot of us were drinking underage at that time so we didn't feel like we could stop it without risking the home of this party being taken away (not sure if legally accurate, but it was the big fear). It was a pretty horrible night for me and like two or three other guys who got it even worse.
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Up.
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Your hometown sounds terrible. My condolences.

Also all I want to say about "mancode" is that the entire concept is idiotic. There isn't one, and there shouldn't be one.
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MrZAP17 posted...

Your hometown sounds terrible. My condolences.

It has its problems -- it's not all bad, but I'll harp on what's wrong with this small town for a minute.

There was lots of fighting growing up for me and other people I didn't get close with, which lines up with some stats I learned as an adult. For example, Tennessee often has one of the highest percentages of violent crimes in the country. It's also a testament of the lack of child care services in the local area for those who have been abused. The school system can only do so much as well, considering we were one of the five worst counties for education at a time when Tennessee was 49th in the nation (not saying I wholly valued education at the time either -- I was 39th in a class of 77, so I was 100% down the middle there).

To get into the economy and politics of the area, we had our big business leave for Mexico in the 1990s after NAFTA. This drove our county up to like 33% unemployment at one point -- something outrageous like that. This is probably the reason why our county supported Donald Trump more than any other county in the Republican primary last year -- he was openly against the TPP and NAFTA. His aggression and IMHO bigotry didn't hurt either, but the area sincerely does have a desperation for jobs now that was previously hurt by past policies.

Of course, much like the rest of the South, this is a rural Bible Belt-area. Feel how you want on that, but I'll say this: while I often have my negative feelings on churches in certain ways, every pastor and their family I knew here was super nice and into the sports I played. We got along fine outside of church -- I just didn't deal with them in church past when I was like ten years old, so I won't say much more here.

Drugs are a problem all through-out the nation and Tennessee, but I recently learned we now have more pain clinics than Starbucks. Not sure how this problem looked in my childhood, but pills have been a known problem for many years in this county. Also, if I remember right, our region of the state has some of the highest rates of alcoholism.

We used to be more of a tourist spot too, but that's declined now with competition.


Anyway, it's a beautiful area and a good place to retire at with plenty of nice people to be found, but I don't think of it as a good place for kids to grow up. If I didn't have family still there, I wouldn't have much business there as an adult either.
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MZero11 posted...

what kind of name is Trint

tag

I was thinking the same thing.

Also, jocks on a video gaming board on the Internet? What is this madness?

Amazing story, though.
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man, you've slimmed down from those weight lifting days.
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Our jocks were weird. Our football team also took over our Theatre classes in school. Good times!
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Well I've fattened up since my NYC days, so I guess it evens out.
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Huzzah.
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Few more bumps.
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