I'm done fighting.

I have decided to stop my career as a bare-knuckle brawler. I have never lost a match, and I'd like to think that I have done a very good job and left my mark in the world.

I'd like to think that.

To bad, I've never been a fighter. I've never been IN a fight, even. Sure I've been hit before, mostly sucker punches for my lunch money or the like, but I've never reciprocated.

Not that I'm ashamed of this fact, in all honesty, I'm glad I never have, but it still sometimes seems like I missed out on a few stories that I could tell my kids.

My dad always told me that if I ever got into a fight to "Go for the nose, boy! If you hit 'em hard enough they won't be able to see you! Then just back off and watch 'em fall!". He apparently did this on at least one occasion, and when I was a kid I loved hearing tales about how my father rose to the top over the bullies in his school.

But, I've never been a fighter.

Hell, I was in football my 9th grade year (yea, I know, laugh) They put me on line, 'cause back then I was a lot heavier than I am now (Damn near 90 pounds heavier!) And I was a scary lookin' dude! 6'2'' 280 lbs don't look too friendly when it's barreling down at you covered in hard foam pads.

Problem was, I didn't get it. I didn't understand what I was 'sposed to do. I did great during practice, plowing my friends into the fence, chasing the ball across the field only to outrun the quarterback and bring him down, but when it got to game time, and I was against a bunch of people I didn't know. I got confused. "What did they ever do to me?" I would ask myself, "Why should I hit them?"

This unnecessary questioning bought me permanent play time in the "Fifth Quarter."

Yes, the fifth quarter. The point in 9th grade football games where they play all the terrible or, in my case, violence-confused players so that the parents who drove two hours to go the stupid game didn't bitch out the coaches.

(No, I did not have long hair, facial hair, nor did I know what "Steam Punk" was in 9th grade.)

I don't think we ever won a game. Our coaches tried to bribe us on several occasions, but we never won. In some pseudo-sadistic way, I enjoy taking credit for our continued defeat.

So I have decided to quit fighting. This way, when my kids ask me if I ever got into fights when I was young, I can say: "Oh boy, I've done some things I'm not so proud of, bud. I quit fighting a long time ago, but I'd like to think I did some damage in my day." I'll wink, and my wife will laugh at me from the other room and wonder why she ever fell in love with some guy who lives to spin yarns.

I love to spin yarns. I love to tell tales. I love to sing songs. I live to entertain.

Skot/Scott

Edit: I'm actually number 77. I think that guessing 78 is pretty damn good since I haven't seen those damned football pictures since I was IN 9th grade.