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Whan was the very first time you experienced RAGE ?
- Thread starter Easy 10
- Start date
marcos3263
Well-known member
I was about 8, so 29 years ago. I can remember it like it was yesterday, not just for the rage but for the other emotions all rolled up.
I lived on an army barracks in Chattenden, Kent. A lot of the army kids thought they were hard by association and many of them were hard due to their dad's posting to another area and disruption in schooling.
I was playing in the small park with some friends when along came Jamie Scarasbrick. He was a small scouser who was brilliant at football and knew it, he was also a little bruiser who liked to torment the gentler kids.
He immediately continued his running campaign of mental torture on me specifically aimed at my lack of sporting prowess. It was the last straw, I had his friends laughing at me and my friends laughing at me…..no one was loyal….every one liked Jamie.
So I hit him.
I wanted to hurt him, I wanted him to look silly, I wanted to be the popular one. The rage had been brewing for weeks; I let it all out there and then.
It didn’t work. My punch was as good as my football skills, I didn’t hurt him, he dodged it, easily, and hit me back. Hard, firm and obvious.
The assorted spectators gasped then immediately formed a circle chanting FIGHT as we did back then, him against me…… all of them against me.
I got hit again, hard and I knew I was going to lose. Through the tears that were already falling I looked for a way out. Stood like a beacon of sanctuary was a girl stood on a swing, she was two things
1) A big lass, tall for her age and she would tower over my foe
2) On my side
I went over to her and sobbed loudly for her to hit him.
I was reduced to asking a girl to fight my battles for me. I didn’t care I wanted/needed to win.
She looked at me, shook her head and said “why should I hit him? He’s my boyfriend!”
There it was, the final humiliation, I cried like I have never cried before and I ran home, alone.
I didn’t stop until I was face down on my bed.
In the space of 15 minutes, joy, rage, pain, humiliation. I’ve started sweating now thinking about it.
I’m going downstairs to calm down.
I lived on an army barracks in Chattenden, Kent. A lot of the army kids thought they were hard by association and many of them were hard due to their dad's posting to another area and disruption in schooling.
I was playing in the small park with some friends when along came Jamie Scarasbrick. He was a small scouser who was brilliant at football and knew it, he was also a little bruiser who liked to torment the gentler kids.
He immediately continued his running campaign of mental torture on me specifically aimed at my lack of sporting prowess. It was the last straw, I had his friends laughing at me and my friends laughing at me…..no one was loyal….every one liked Jamie.
So I hit him.
I wanted to hurt him, I wanted him to look silly, I wanted to be the popular one. The rage had been brewing for weeks; I let it all out there and then.
It didn’t work. My punch was as good as my football skills, I didn’t hurt him, he dodged it, easily, and hit me back. Hard, firm and obvious.
The assorted spectators gasped then immediately formed a circle chanting FIGHT as we did back then, him against me…… all of them against me.
I got hit again, hard and I knew I was going to lose. Through the tears that were already falling I looked for a way out. Stood like a beacon of sanctuary was a girl stood on a swing, she was two things
1) A big lass, tall for her age and she would tower over my foe
2) On my side
I went over to her and sobbed loudly for her to hit him.
I was reduced to asking a girl to fight my battles for me. I didn’t care I wanted/needed to win.
She looked at me, shook her head and said “why should I hit him? He’s my boyfriend!”
There it was, the final humiliation, I cried like I have never cried before and I ran home, alone.
I didn’t stop until I was face down on my bed.
In the space of 15 minutes, joy, rage, pain, humiliation. I’ve started sweating now thinking about it.
I’m going downstairs to calm down.
Barry Izbak
U.T.A.
They are on the i-player. Embarrassed to admit I haven't got a clue about podcasts.
SirDouglasLoft
New member
- Jul 4, 2008
- 6,876
Tell me about it. It was at the stage when some kid in our year got bullied so much he tried to kill himself - he was 7, madness. Anyway, they said that anyone who showed any act of voilence would get a 7 day suspension. Tossers.
Bluejuice
Lazy as a rug on Valium
Sadly I don't think you can get podcasts of Danny Baker's BBC London show which is a shame as I used to enjoy listening to him when I worked at Gatwick where you can pick up the London stations.
Bluejuice
Lazy as a rug on Valium
It was pretty standard procedure in my school.
There were only two incidents of serious fists being thrown that I can recall in all my school days and both involved suspensions.
Mind you one of the incidents involved Ross "the boss" Minter who was in the year above me and his victim that day was taken away in an ambulance
¤DãŃn¥ §êãGüLL¤
Banned
I can remember this weedy ginger kid we used to pick on. One day my mate gagged him with clingfilm while I punched him in the guts and nicked his wallet. My punishment? I had to STAY IN AT BREAK for a week. Oooh, that taught me a lesson.
¤DãŃn¥ §êãGüLL¤;3482349 said:
Yeah, thanks for that.
SirDouglasLoft
New member
- Jul 4, 2008
- 6,876
Ross the Boss, that's a fanstastic name. I love it. I wish I had a nickname like that.
¤DãŃn¥ §êãGüLL¤;3482349 said:
Now that's just harsh Daniel, no need for that sort of behaviour!
I had to stay in at break for 2 days, because I told a kid to f*** off, I mean staying in at break for telling someone to f*** off because they laughed at me, is a bit ridiculous, right?
Well, anyway the story was the teacher asked me a maths (I think it was?) question, I got it wrong, and some prick laughed at me, so I told him to f*** off. Joke of a kid, joke of a teacher, joke of a school.
¤DãŃn¥ §êãGüLL¤
Banned
R. Slicker
Well-known member
- Jan 1, 2009
- 4,490
Good thread Easy. hats off to you because when you started it, I doubted it would have many replies. It seems NSC are a petulant bunch.
Being a well balanced & laid back individual myself, I have no stories to add, but I would have paid good money to listen to the bloke from Daventry, who could recieve radio 2, on his TEETH. 0n saturdays show.
Being a well balanced & laid back individual myself, I have no stories to add, but I would have paid good money to listen to the bloke from Daventry, who could recieve radio 2, on his TEETH. 0n saturdays show.
marcos3263
Well-known member
No Happy Ending Easy, just one of those chapters in my life I reply over and over. Its made me the bitter man I am.Cheers Barry Izbak.
Do you mean you're not sure what a podcast is ? Cos I've only just caught up with them myself, literally the last couple of months
Holy hell marcos - thats a HORRENDOUSLY painful tale. I was waiting for the happy ending.
ChapManiA
Banned
I recall getting a Sega Megadrive for my birthday one year, it came with both Sonic the Hedgehog 1 AND 2!
My sister was (and still is) two years older than me and quite the bully.
One Monday afternoon I was home late from school due to football practice.
Entering the living room, what did I see before me? That's right, my sister merrily playing on MY Sega Megadrive.
I'd only had it a few days, It was MY games console, soley mine, not a joint present. My mother was in the kitchen, fully aware that the bitch was playing on it.
Seeing her playing Sonic 2 made my blood BOIL. I went straight for the power button and turned off the console. Next I grabbed my sister by the hair, dragged her to the floor, and began to attack her. I say 'attack' but it wasn't anything bad, just a little more excessive than the usual sibling brawl. However, in my mind, I wanted to hurt her badly. I'll tell you what though, it was extremely satisfying.
Surprisingly my mother didn't really admonish me for my actions. I suspect she knew what my sister had coming, and also realised she had errored in not stopping her from playing on it.
Next month was Christmas, I had a 14" Amstrad TV purchased for me from the Index catalogue. From then on, my Megadrive never left my room. If I knew I was going to be out for a while, I'd hide the RF cable, rendering the system useless to my sister.
My sister was (and still is) two years older than me and quite the bully.
One Monday afternoon I was home late from school due to football practice.
Entering the living room, what did I see before me? That's right, my sister merrily playing on MY Sega Megadrive.
I'd only had it a few days, It was MY games console, soley mine, not a joint present. My mother was in the kitchen, fully aware that the bitch was playing on it.
Seeing her playing Sonic 2 made my blood BOIL. I went straight for the power button and turned off the console. Next I grabbed my sister by the hair, dragged her to the floor, and began to attack her. I say 'attack' but it wasn't anything bad, just a little more excessive than the usual sibling brawl. However, in my mind, I wanted to hurt her badly. I'll tell you what though, it was extremely satisfying.
Surprisingly my mother didn't really admonish me for my actions. I suspect she knew what my sister had coming, and also realised she had errored in not stopping her from playing on it.
Next month was Christmas, I had a 14" Amstrad TV purchased for me from the Index catalogue. From then on, my Megadrive never left my room. If I knew I was going to be out for a while, I'd hide the RF cable, rendering the system useless to my sister.
marcos3263
Well-known member
Another incident occurred much later. I was about 13-14 years old and had taken to entertaining myself indoors rather than go out and face other children and the scars of Jamie Scarasbrick.
I was now a model maker and quite a good one at that. Hours avoiding my peers had meant that I was now a bit of a craftsman and skilled in Airfix and Tamiya.
My latest creation was a custom truck, you know the highly detailed American sort of thing, I had lovingly painted the engine parts, dashboard with dials, even the seat belt and buckle – many hours of care.
It then got to the transfers, I soaked them in water to slide them off the backing and realised it was a cheap model and they didn’t fit. My love and care was wasted on this object I suddenly despised.
I calmly got up, went to my dads tool box and selected the biggest hammer he had.
Returning to my bedroom I looked at this beautifully made model that was technically finished then smashed it to f*** with the hammer.
I then calmly returned the hammer and put the model in the bin.
I was now a model maker and quite a good one at that. Hours avoiding my peers had meant that I was now a bit of a craftsman and skilled in Airfix and Tamiya.
My latest creation was a custom truck, you know the highly detailed American sort of thing, I had lovingly painted the engine parts, dashboard with dials, even the seat belt and buckle – many hours of care.
It then got to the transfers, I soaked them in water to slide them off the backing and realised it was a cheap model and they didn’t fit. My love and care was wasted on this object I suddenly despised.
I calmly got up, went to my dads tool box and selected the biggest hammer he had.
Returning to my bedroom I looked at this beautifully made model that was technically finished then smashed it to f*** with the hammer.
I then calmly returned the hammer and put the model in the bin.
SirDouglasLoft
New member
- Jul 4, 2008
- 6,876
Oh yeah, almost forgot. I got sent home early from school and suspended for the following day because I took the piss out of a Chinese kid who used to stay in at break time, playing Kinex. f***ing KINEX!
You did warn me. Apoligies ROLFY baby.
¤DãŃn¥ §êãGüLL¤;3482363 said:ARGHHHHYou know WHY I beat him up? Kept f***ing calling me that.
You did warn me. Apoligies ROLFY baby.