Back when I was just a little shaver, I remember walking home from school and encountering our neighborhood bully on more than a few occasions. He would wait at a certain corner just to pick a fight with me or one of my buddies.
None of us were tough enough to challenge this kid, so we just went along with his pushing and shoving and general meanness. But each of us fantasized about one day hauling off and whacking him a good one and ending his reign of terror.
It was during this time in my life that my father insisted on his sons having boxing lessons to learn how to defend themselves. Our teacher, Joe Salas, was an Olympic silver medalist (1924) who exchanged his knowledge of boxing for legal fees owed to my father. Once a week for a couple of years, the Kimber brothers learned the art of self defense from a master.