Satisfying Revenge On A High-School Bully
The Secret Every Bully Needs To Know: Be Careful Who You Tackle
I still smile, remembering when I went from bullied to respected.
See, in middle-school and early high-school, bullies mercilessly picked on me. They saw me as a socially awkward and lanky kid, and they were right. It wasn’t until I gained confidence and the ability to protect myself that this stopped.
Wrestling changed everything, especially when it came to my nemesis, a football player named Jodie.
Wrestling taught me skills, including how to switch things up.
I didn’t take up wrestling because people picked on me. For some reason, I thought it would be fun.
Even though I started in 10th grade, where most of our good wrestlers had been in the sport for years, I excelled quickly.
- By the end of 10th grade, I was just an average wrestler, but that put me miles ahead of the socially awkward and lanky kid I’d started as.
- In 11th grade, I earned team co-captain and was winning tournaments.
In 12th grade, I excelled even more, but this story takes place before that.
The week of this incident, we’d been practicing switches.
If someone holds you from behind in wrestling, they’re likely to try to force you to the ground. A switch entails putting an arm behind you and under your opponent’s thigh as you fall forward, using it as a pivot.
You “switch” places with your opponent, landing on top of them as they take the full brunt of the fall.
One of my frequent tormentors, a defensive football player named Jodie, was not aware of this.
I was walking down the hall after class when someone attacked me from behind.
It all happened so fast.
I was grabbed and driven toward the ground. Instinct, or perhaps hours of practice, took over.
As far as I know, it was a perfectly executed football tackle against a perfectly executed wrestling switch.
Wrestling 1. Football 0.
Sorry, Jodie.
I hit the switch. He hit the ground, with me on top. I may have put him in a more painful hold than was absolutely necessary. But then again, this was just one of the many unprovoked attacks I’d endured.
Only this time, he was enduring it.
I decided it was time for a casual talk with my now-former bully.
“Oh. Hi Jody,” I said.
I then shifted into a cradle hold, forcing him on his back and against the lockers. Note: lockers aren’t usually legal to use in real Greco Roman wrestling, but I was willing to make the exception.
“Let me up, Hughey!” he protested.
“Say you’re sorry,” I explained.
“I’m sorry!”
I can’t remember if this was before or after the movie Face-Off, and I don’t want to look it up and be reminded of how much time has passed. Whether I’d heard the line from the movie or not, I delivered a John Travolta worthy performance of the quote.
“Mean it.”
He apologized again. I let him go. He never bothered me again. In fact, as word got around, fewer and fewer of his cohorts attempted to bother me anymore.
There are other stories, but this is my favorite. Thank you for tackling me, Jodie. Even all these years later, as I was reminded of it, it made my day.
Scott Hughey has several wrestling tales. Not all of them have him as the protagonist. Some of the best and funniest take place in his early days, as experienced wrestlers tossed him around like a rag doll. Ah. Those were the days.
