Two years ago–on the 10th of February 2010 to be exact–I got into a scuffle with another male soccer player while participating in a BYU Intramural Coed soccer game.
Little did I know I would still be paying the price 2 years later for what went down that night.
We were playing some team full of poor sports (I would expect nothing less from BYU) and we were wining. I was playing defense and we were always on the attack so I didn’t have much to do. On one offensive push, a player on our team, Carl (not his actual name), was running behind a dude on the opposing team for some reason. They were pretty close and a dude on either our team or their team accidentally bumped Carl from behind. He started to fall and decided to grab on to the opposing player (I will call this player Richard for obvious reasons). Richard got angry quick because “WHY IS THERE A DUDE GRABBING ON TO ME!!!!!! I AM RICHARD AND I CANNOT BE TOUCHED!!!!!!”. At least that’s what I gathered from his actions. Carl fell down and tried to get up, but Richard decided to walk right in to him. It kinda reminded me of what Pippen did to Ewing after he dunked on him except Richard was actually knocking Carl back over.
So, Carl was tryin to get up and Richard kept bumping him over. Then Richard start to kick him and act like he was just walking. I obviously saw right through this. The refs were totally oblivious to everything including their own existence. Our whole team was looking for them to see if they would do anything. They were too busy picking their wedgies and noses. One of the refs was actually spinning around in circles while looking at the ceiling. One of the other refs called out to him and said,”HEY! What are you doing?!!?…… Let me try.” And the both started to spin and stare at the ceiling. Meanwhile, there was a soccer scuffle going on.
I stared at the refs and wondered if they would do anything. They didn’t. I decided to be judge, jury and executioner, ruling that this Richard was crossing the line. I sprinted across the field and ran into the dude as hard as I could. In fact, I think I speared him like this. We both fell down (I think, at least I did) and immediately jumped back up. He put his dukes up and swung at me. I dodged and then put him in a rear naked choke hold. I realized it looked like I was trying to kill Richard so I loosened my grip and put my arm more around his upper chest. He screamed like a little girl (no offense to the ladies) and started to punch me in the head. Bam! BAM! BAM! I just took it like Rocky until I decided that I was pissed. I socked him back in the head while still holding on to him. He screamed again, saying, “HE’S CHOKING MEEEE!” I said, “If I were choking you, you’d be out, sucka fool!”
The refs finally stopped eating their boogers and broke up the scuffle. Richard and I got red cards. I knew I would, but I had to do what I did. In the words of Tommy from Coward of the County, “Sometimes you gotta fight when you’re a man.” We went to the sideline and Richard kept whining to the refs.
“Why did I get a red card? I didn’t do anything.”
“Uh, you hit me in the face multiple times.”
“Shutup man, you attacked me.”
“You kicked my friend when he was on the ground. You better shut your @#$@#!@$%$^#$%”
“Let’s outside right now! Let’s go! Come at be bro.”
“Dude, I’ll get my friends and whoop your [butt]. I don’t care about a fair fight.”
About this time the side ref told us to shutup and I left. I walked away, satisfied that I had defended my friend, pissed at Richard and super pissed that the intramural refs were completely useless. I thought, “This is about as bad as intramurals at BYU could get.” Little did I know that the morons in the office would do much worse.
The End of Part I