Probably the biggest fight I ever witnessed in high school happened in the cafeteria over lunch. Mine was a pretty diverse high school, and as is the case in those situations, the races more or less stuck together. This fight was between a bunch of Asian kids and happened a few tables down from me and my buds. I don’t know how it started, but we heard yelling and turned around to see some grappling between a bunch of kids, with lunch trays being flipped over and food flying through the air.
Through the ungraceful shoving and general pandemonium you could tell one kid in particular was getting worked pretty good. A few solid punches had landed and he fell back against a nearby table and half-flipped that over as well.
By the time the kid fell over, a bunch of teachers had rushed in and broken it up, and so when the kid stood up among the food and trays and overturned chairs, he was all by himself. He had a giant knot welling above his eye and his shirt was ripped, and even worse a couple hundred kids were staring at him in full knowledge that he just had his ass handed to him.
The kid then calmly reached down and retrieved his slice of pizza off the ground, and took a bite while walking backward and giving a look of “that didn’t faze me at all, nope, this is exactly how bad-ass I am” as if his eyes WEREN’T watering and his shirt WASN’T torn and his pride HADN’T just been severely punctured.
Most people laughed at his attempt to look tough in the face of all evidence. To me, it was one of the most pathetic and saddest things I ever remember seeing.
(Want to know how big of a pussy I am? I am suuuuuuper bummed out just remembering that story, even though I know the kid was fine, even though he probably doesn’t remember it and if he does probably laughs it off as one of those dumb high school moments we all have, even though he was clearly a willing participant in the fight. Yep, still sad thinking about it. Get it together, Broxey.)
I hadn’t thought about that night in years, until yesterday’s game 5 of the World Series. Specifically, when Chris Carpenter surrendered a 400-foot out to center field to noted neck-beard aficionado Mike Napoli and proceeded to (by the looks of it) scream at Napoli and call him a piece of shit.
Yeah, really. After giving up a towering flyball that would have been home run in any other part of the park, Carpenter chose that moment to talk shit. At a moment when he should have had his tail tucked between his legs as he stiff-walked to the dugout to change his surely soiled pants, he, like my pizza-eating wounded classmate, decided to go in the exact opposite direction at the exact worst moment to play pretend bad-ass. I felt bad for the classmate; he was just a kid and had just gotten his ass kicked.
Carpenter is a grown man and had pretty clearly lucked out. He just comes off as a dim-witted asshole.
In conclusion: go Texas, I guess.