I had been neighbors with Bryan since 4th grade, so probably since I was 10 years old. We were in the same grade, but he was a year older, having failed a previous grade at some point. But believe you me when I tell you that any lack of brain power was abundantly made up for in the muscled body he had. By junior high, he was the envy of every guy, the desire of every girl. He simply was what one would call an "adonis". He worked out religously in the front room of their home which had been converted into a gym type setup. At that time, free weights were pretty much all that was available, none of the fancy combined units and such like they have today. He would work out with the door and blinds wide open. The way he worked his body was indeed,a glorious site to behold and he always seemed to know when he had an audience.
While we were neighbors, I wasn't what one would refer to as his friend. While he had a dream body, mine was short and barrel shaped. The only thing I had going for me was that I was preternaturally strong, something that always worked to my advantage in neighborhood wrestling matches. Sometimes the fellows would gather in one backyard or another and play games like "red rover" where everyone lines up and one fellow charges, trying to break the line. If he broke it, he got to choose one of the mates to be on his charging side. No one wanted to be at the spot Bryan picked to charge through for his muscles simply tore the competition apart. Frankly I envied him a lot.
A few neighborhood wrestling matches occurred throughout the years but mainly I was an observer. Until one day when I was about 15, a friend, Danny, was down visiting. We were sitting in the side yard in the shade. Bryan and his younger brother, Robin, came strolling by. "You guys wanna wrestle," Robin asked? Danny and I looked at each other and said, "Sure." Matches were chosen, Danny vs Robin, me vs Bryan. Finally I would get to test myself against his obvious muscle advantage. We were dressed as typical teens of that era, white t-shirts, blue jeans, and tennis shoes.
We squared off in pairs in the cool shade at the side of that house on 12th street and Ruth. Danny and Robin went right at it, already rolling around in the grass while Bryan just stood there, his face twisted into a smirk as he looked at me, obviously in disdain, almost like, "why am I wasting my time". He chose that moment to flex one bicep. My god, it was glorious. A solid baseball size orb atop of his arm, an arm covered in veins that popped out like a road map as he flexed. "Wanna touch it," he offered. I thought I might puke at his offer, I had so wanted to touch, worship, and adore his muscles for years and now I was frozen in place, maybe even drooling, at the thought. But remember, we were also in a wrestling tag team match.
I swallowed hard, then advanced, raising my hand slowly, tentatively, like his skin might burn me. As I reached up, he lowered his arm a bit. I took advantage, leaped in and wrapped his head in a headlock. Twisting hard, we both went down, me actually maintaining my grip and we landed hard, his body trapped behind mine. I cranked on the power. I was pleased to hear him grunt as we landed.
"You fucking punk," Bryan grunted out through clenched teeth. "I'm gonna break you." I tightened my headlock more at the threat. "Try it," was all I could get out, my chest heaving at the sheer effort I was putting forth as Bryan pushed against my arm trying to dislodge his head. We rolled a bit but I had my weight placed to prevent much movement. He was trying to get his arms in between mine and his body but I wasn't having it. He twisted this way, then that, but somehow I was still maintaining my grip. Sweat poured down my face. I glanced up to find that Danny and Robin had stopped their match and were watching ours now instead. Each of them was now yelling instructions to their team mate ... my arm was starting to cramp a little from the pressure I was applying.
Suddenly a fist hit me from behind, catching me solid in the back. "Hey, this isn't a boxing match," I yelled at Bryan. "Fuck you," was his reply. He hit me again in the back, then another caught me right at the back of my head. It was a hard jolt that shook me a little. "Hey, watch the cheap shots," Danny yelled in my defense. Somehow, Bryan managed to twist enough that he could look up at Danny. "I'm gonna crush you as soon as I finish with this punk." Danny fell quiet.
I still don't know quite what happened next. Maybe it was the sweat, maybe the cramp that was growing in my arm, it could have been a lot of things, but somehow, Bryan managed to finally push hard enough against my arm that his head popped free. Before I could even react, his legs swung up and he caught my head in a leg scissor. Now remember, this was a kid that worked out every day. I don't know what size his quads were, but even through his jeans, I could feel the steel like cords that tightened down on my neck and skull. "Now you're gonna pay," Bryan said and he cranked on the hurt. My head felt like it was about to explode. Almost immediately, I started seeing stars in my vision. This was way before "tap out" became the popular catch phrase, so instead, I heard ... "say uncle, punk."
"Never," I barely squeaked out. The pressure increased if that was even possible. My hands went to his quads and even through the jeans, I could feel the heat of his blood coursing like hot lava just under his skin. My visin was turning black, even the stars going out. But I was determined not to say uncle.
"Then die," Bryan replied and somehow turned up the hurt one more level. It didn't last long because I was out, a limp rag doll caught between the quads of the neighborhood muscle teen. I'm sure seconds passed, my life passing before my eyes, when I woke with a jerk. I was still laying on the grass, but my head was no longer trapped in the jaws of death. I heard some noise and turned my head to see.
Bryan had Danny in a hold with his arm, in what today would be called a rear naked choke. They were standing, Danny's feet barely even touching the ground, his face red from being choked. At the same time, Robin was peppering his gut with hard punches, each one making Danny lose his breath. My first inclination was to simply shut my eyes and pretend I was still out. But I didn't, I forced myself up and charged at the two brothers beating my friend. But that is a story for a different time ...
Guysmiley (41 )
17.5.2012 23:20@fmrhugger – Unfortunately I haven't seen him since graduating high school and that was 1969.
fmrhugger (17)
17.5.2012 21:22I wonder what Bryan looks like today.
MagicTeen (3)
17.5.2012 19:18I like this story!
Guysmiley (41 )
17.5.2012 17:22I had been neighbors with Bryan since 4th grade, so probably since I was 10 years old. We were in the same grade, but he was a year older, having failed a previous grade at some point. But believe you me when I tell you that any lack of brain power was abundantly made up for in the muscled body he had. By junior high, he was the envy of every guy, the desire of every girl. He simply was what one would call an "adonis". He worked out religously in the front room of their home which had been converted into a gym type setup. At that time, free weights were pretty much all that was available, none of the fancy combined units and such like they have today. He would work out with the door and blinds wide open. The way he worked his body was indeed,a glorious site to behold and he always seemed to know when he had an audience.
While we were neighbors, I wasn't what one would refer to as his friend. While he had a dream body, mine was short and barrel shaped. The only thing I had going for me was that I was preternaturally strong, something that always worked to my advantage in neighborhood wrestling matches. Sometimes the fellows would gather in one backyard or another and play games like "red rover" where everyone lines up and one fellow charges, trying to break the line. If he broke it, he got to choose one of the mates to be on his charging side. No one wanted to be at the spot Bryan picked to charge through for his muscles simply tore the competition apart. Frankly I envied him a lot.
A few neighborhood wrestling matches occurred throughout the years but mainly I was an observer. Until one day when I was about 15, a friend, Danny, was down visiting. We were sitting in the side yard in the shade. Bryan and his younger brother, Robin, came strolling by. "You guys wanna wrestle," Robin asked? Danny and I looked at each other and said, "Sure." Matches were chosen, Danny vs Robin, me vs Bryan. Finally I would get to test myself against his obvious muscle advantage. We were dressed as typical teens of that era, white t-shirts, blue jeans, and tennis shoes.
We squared off in pairs in the cool shade at the side of that house on 12th street and Ruth. Danny and Robin went right at it, already rolling around in the grass while Bryan just stood there, his face twisted into a smirk as he looked at me, obviously in disdain, almost like, "why am I wasting my time". He chose that moment to flex one bicep. My god, it was glorious. A solid baseball size orb atop of his arm, an arm covered in veins that popped out like a road map as he flexed. "Wanna touch it," he offered. I thought I might puke at his offer, I had so wanted to touch, worship, and adore his muscles for years and now I was frozen in place, maybe even drooling, at the thought. But remember, we were also in a wrestling tag team match.
I swallowed hard, then advanced, raising my hand slowly, tentatively, like his skin might burn me. As I reached up, he lowered his arm a bit. I took advantage, leaped in and wrapped his head in a headlock. Twisting hard, we both went down, me actually maintaining my grip and we landed hard, his body trapped behind mine. I cranked on the power. I was pleased to hear him grunt as we landed.
"You fucking punk," Bryan grunted out through clenched teeth. "I'm gonna break you." I tightened my headlock more at the threat. "Try it," was all I could get out, my chest heaving at the sheer effort I was putting forth as Bryan pushed against my arm trying to dislodge his head. We rolled a bit but I had my weight placed to prevent much movement. He was trying to get his arms in between mine and his body but I wasn't having it. He twisted this way, then that, but somehow I was still maintaining my grip. Sweat poured down my face. I glanced up to find that Danny and Robin had stopped their match and were watching ours now instead. Each of them was now yelling instructions to their team mate ... my arm was starting to cramp a little from the pressure I was applying.
Suddenly a fist hit me from behind, catching me solid in the back. "Hey, this isn't a boxing match," I yelled at Bryan. "Fuck you," was his reply. He hit me again in the back, then another caught me right at the back of my head. It was a hard jolt that shook me a little. "Hey, watch the cheap shots," Danny yelled in my defense. Somehow, Bryan managed to twist enough that he could look up at Danny. "I'm gonna crush you as soon as I finish with this punk." Danny fell quiet.
I still don't know quite what happened next. Maybe it was the sweat, maybe the cramp that was growing in my arm, it could have been a lot of things, but somehow, Bryan managed to finally push hard enough against my arm that his head popped free. Before I could even react, his legs swung up and he caught my head in a leg scissor. Now remember, this was a kid that worked out every day. I don't know what size his quads were, but even through his jeans, I could feel the steel like cords that tightened down on my neck and skull. "Now you're gonna pay," Bryan said and he cranked on the hurt. My head felt like it was about to explode. Almost immediately, I started seeing stars in my vision. This was way before "tap out" became the popular catch phrase, so instead, I heard ... "say uncle, punk."
"Never," I barely squeaked out. The pressure increased if that was even possible. My hands went to his quads and even through the jeans, I could feel the heat of his blood coursing like hot lava just under his skin. My visin was turning black, even the stars going out. But I was determined not to say uncle.
"Then die," Bryan replied and somehow turned up the hurt one more level. It didn't last long because I was out, a limp rag doll caught between the quads of the neighborhood muscle teen. I'm sure seconds passed, my life passing before my eyes, when I woke with a jerk. I was still laying on the grass, but my head was no longer trapped in the jaws of death. I heard some noise and turned my head to see.
Bryan had Danny in a hold with his arm, in what today would be called a rear naked choke. They were standing, Danny's feet barely even touching the ground, his face red from being choked. At the same time, Robin was peppering his gut with hard punches, each one making Danny lose his breath. My first inclination was to simply shut my eyes and pretend I was still out. But I didn't, I forced myself up and charged at the two brothers beating my friend. But that is a story for a different time ...