Football violence.........

[locosyndicate]

This is a short paragraph for the first bit of my story on football violence.

 

My names Tim Garry and I was a simple young lad once but that all once changed on a cold November night after a nice old game of footy. I used to sit at home and play on the ps2 all day or go out with my mates and fight with kids up the park after they beat us at footy.

Fighting was my favourite thing ever and it still is now. The thrill of beating the living sh*t out of someone still gives me a joy that you could never experience until you took part in violence such as I have. You would gang up and single weak targets then charge with your whole gang at the big lads. I also used to thief stuff at this time. My parents were bastards until they passed away not long ago. They never loved or cared for me. Nah! So I was left to fend for myself and gather what any type of life I could create. I mugged young kids as I was scrawny. So I just used to smack you round the head with a cricket bat and run off with your gameboy or any money you had on you.

I also went to the sh*ttest public school you could imagine. Nobody mad a real life from that school unless you sold drugs or became a bank robber. At the time I was well defended in school by my gorilla sculpted cousin, the bully thankfully enough. So if anyone started trouble with me they would’ve had trouble with him too. School was the last thing on my mind considering my life on the street where I would listen to reggae on an old record player from the 70’s and we would just hang around in the concrete jungle of my city. Life was good but it was about to get better!

I was walking home from my mate’s house at about half past ten when I noticed some young kids about the same age snorting cocaine in the corner. They were puffing and snorting. It was flowing through their noses like the river of blood caused by Moses. They then rushed of the corner towards me sensing them behind my back I turned instinctively and pulled my fists to my head in a boxing stance. I never ran away from a fight even If I was going to get the sh*t kicked out of me. There was about four of them one was white and the next three were black all with beanie hats but one stood out as the biggest and he wore a blue Yankees jacket . The oncoming white kiddie launched a punched which I ducked to and countered with an uppercut into his stomach. He was winded so I took advantage and crushed my knee in to his nose while throwing him into the biggun. I then received a left jab to the face and a faded blow to the stomach but I fought back kicking one boy in the groin and missing a punch which I aimed at the face. I was then wrestled but I managed to stay on top because of a violent hook to the face. The bastard fell to the floor. The dazed big kid then kicked me across the council estate rubble as I gasped in shock. I was winded. A burning pain lay growling in my stomach but Instinct saved from an ass kicking because of a short metal pole that lay unmoved on the floor. I timed it just right. I swiped at the kids head with the pole following up with a pounding hit to the stomach.

Any criticism or praise is accepted here.