It may have only been in the playground, but Neil Reynolds can remember coming to blows with somebody about a football match for the first time
I thumped him in the stomach; he reacted with a punch to my eye which jolted my head backwards. My reply was a jab to the nose which drew blood, and he countered with a hard left to my face. A teacher then stepped in and dragged us apart with honours even, or maybe even me marginally ahead; in truth, though, had the contest lasted more than a few seconds, I would have probably been pulverised.