Tell a story about how you dropped the hammer on a bunch of fools when they counted you out

Let's see if I can end the boring feeling.

Senior year of HS, 800m in some regional meet. I'm in the 2nd heat because I had a sh|tty 'regular season', qualifying with like a 2:07 or something. My teammate is in the 2nd as well, and we're total opposites but good friends. He flies in the first 200 and hangs on, I get out slow and finish well. My folks made the ~2 hour drive and hadn't seen me race a ton, so I said, "Don't worry if I'm in last at the end of the first lap - I'm gonna win."

First lap couldn't've been slower if it tried - I saw a picture of me and it looked like I was jogging. Sure enough, I'm in 2nd to last after 400 and my teammate is 5m off the front. We hit 300 to go and he's literally 40m ahead of me, 10 guys strung-out in between. I realize if I am going to win, I'd better DROP THE HAMMER now! So with 300 to go, I fly up the backstretch and on the final turn I pass a guy and he gasps, "Holy sh|t!" 50m to go and my teammate is barely holding on to the front. I swing into lane 3, yell out his name, and we both pick it up to finish tied, the photo shows us looking at each other and smiling. That's how we each finished our HR careers. Fuggin awesome. A little ghey too, but definitely awesome.

We would've finished 5th in the first heat, with the top 4 going on to the next one. Would've been close...

thread killer wrote:

I swing into lane 3, yell out his name...

That's how we each finished our HR careers. Fuggin awesome.

HR careers? Homo racing careers? Dude, that was more than a little ghey. Sounds like you two took 'team bonding' to a whole new level.

Years ago, I was running in (by today's standards) a medium sized marathon. The first six miles were all pretty steep-and the lead pack was hitting it hard-even though it was sunny and hot. I felt I was going too fast, but I didn't want to drop back. By about halfway, only about four of us were left-all still running faster than we should have been. By 18, me and one other guy were all alone. Though the course was a downhill point to point, there were a few short uphills on this course between 18 and 23-and on each hill, each of us tried surging-but neither could break away. Finally, on the final few hundred yards, I saw my chance. The motorcycle cops leading us toward the finish were pulling off the course. I used a motorcycle as a "pick" like Larry Bird might use Kevin McHale, and DROPPED THE HAMMER to break the tape just steps in front of my nemesis. Funny, this happened almost 30 years ago to the day-and I still remember it like it happened yesterday.

holder onto of hammers wrote:

You're just saying that because you're jealous. You sound like a guy who has never DROPPED THE HAMMER.

Sheeeeeet, hammers be dropped on my watch, don't you worry about that. But I don't belong on this thread since it would require fools counting me out, which doesn't happen. People know me. I'm kind of a big deal.

Really this entire premise is not very compelling. In a nutshell every story is: I didn't expect to win, but then I did with a big kick at the end (insert JV time here). I won't bore you with my variation of the same thing.

I'm just here to bitch and troll, seeing as how this is letsrun and all.

when I was in 10th grade I was working as day camp counselor one summer. One of the older guys ran xc for a high school and was considered an athletic god for some reason at the camp.

So word got out that I was a runner too. But I was 3 years younger and just starting. So the camp director set up a race for anyone who wanted to be in it - down the beach to a jetty and back. Maybe 1.5 miles.

The chump took it out very very hard and dropped me. But I kept chugging away until I was back up on that chump and I

DROPPED THE HAMMER and won by 20 meters, with all the camp kids cheering.

kertwang wrote:

when I was in 10th grade I was working as day camp counselor one summer. One of the older guys ran xc for a high school and was considered an athletic god for some reason at the camp.

So word got out that I was a runner too. But I was 3 years younger and just starting. So the camp director set up a race for anyone who wanted to be in it - down the beach to a jetty and back. Maybe 1.5 miles.

The chump took it out very very hard and dropped me. But I kept chugging away until I was back up on that chump and I

DROPPED THE HAMMER and won by 20 meters, with all the camp kids cheering.

This one reminded me of one my greatest athletic moments - the scene was 12 grade Phys Ed. It was raining, so we had relays in the gym instead. Probably 300 kids.

This relay was a layup contest - dribble to one hoop, hit a layup, dribble back to the other hoop, shoot another layup and hand off the ball.

I am a 130 pound xc runner. I was anchor, against athletic superstar, who, no joke, won a football scholarship to UCLA. 6'5", popular, the whole thing.

So we get the ball around the same time, anchor leg. I am written off by everyone.

We dribble down the court, he misses. I hit my layup and head back, but am not that far ahead. I focus on the fundamentals.

He is right behind me, but I DROPPED THE HAMMER and hit that g-d layup as that chump tries - and fails - to slam right next to me.

Crowd does not go wild, exactly, but I summon up that adrenaline rush when I need it.

The best one was when the sophomore beat the girl. You don't get it-they aren't supposed to be inspiring-but pathetic. Not David versus Goliath, but David versus other David. Kind of like when Oklahoma talks smack about Texas.

Gorgeous George, you may think you're cute, but you're not hard to figure out. This thread threatens you. You're insecure about the lack of HAMMERS THAT YOU'VE DROPPED, and you're not creative enough to come up with something interesting to write about. As a result, your only contribution to a thread that plenty of people ARE enjoying is "this is boring."

You know what? You're boring. And I'd be willing to bet that your penis is in the bottom 10th percentile in both length and girth for LR posters.

Cue GG making an uncreative and generic comment about the thread being boring and how his penis is the size of a double-wide in 3...2...1...

gorgeous george wrote:

I'm going to be honest, all these stories are pretty boring.

So there was this girl I was dating for a while.

She was such a tease.

She was always stopping me before things got too far.

But one day I got her really excited and she pulled me towards her and I DROPPED THE HAMMER on her.

Summer before my senior year of college I was doing a tune-up 5k a few towns over from my home-town. I was aiming to hit 5 minute pace, and just wanted to hit even miles.

Gun went off and the local high-schoolers etc sprinted out... I wasn't the best at pacing, but I knew they were going way too fast so I sat back a bit, and started reeling them in after about a half mile.

We were all even as we approached the mile marker. I looked down at my watch, just as the timer started stating 5:09, 5:10... I yelled out "shit" as I was off my intended pace, and threw in a huge surge.

I ended up running it at my goal pace (although not such even splits), and 2nd place was 30 seconds back... He came up to me at the end of the race and said he knew it was over when he saw I was pissed at the pace at mile 1.

that's because my story has yet to be heard.

my junior year of college. i'm an 800 m runner, 1:52's at the time, i'm doing 100m sprints in practice with the sprinters, hurdlers, and decathaletes. this one particular decathalete whom i am beating says, 'i don't understand how you can beat me in an 800 and a 100 when i'm a better 400m runner.' well that sort of bothers me so i'm like, 'a better 400m runner? how do you figure.' and he says, 'i just am. everyone knows it.' well i'm pretty pissed so i say, 'everyone knows it huh? well let's figure this out now. you and me race a 400 now.' everyone else on the team are now getting into it and they all think this will make for a great show and all so he can't back out. i know he doesn't want to do it though. a 400 for a decathalete is a different thing than a 400 is for an 800m runner. but he's locked in so whatever. we go to the starting line and he asks about lane selection. i tell him he can have inside. i figure that's what he wants and i have a plan. i can tell he's being timid and he does not want to do this. so my plan is to make like usain bolt at the start. i'm going to sprint as hard as i could on the outside lane and gap him early and take any hope away. so a team mate starts us and i procede to DROP THE HAMMER. i take off like i'm first leg of a 4x100. i never hear him at all during the race. i finish and everyone on the team is cheering and such and laughing at the decathalete who i find out stopped running at 300m.

1 year out of college and I was in a local 10k race with a bit of prize money on the line. I was still in shape and I had been decent in college but this one local stud happened to show up at the race. He was about 3 years out of college but I knew he had run a 13:55 just 2 years before.

Anyway we ran together for the first 4 miles. both of us were fairly comfortable, but then he picked it up from mile 4 to 5 and I was dropped. he probably put 25 seconds on me in that mile. He must have been thinking he was just toying with me the whole time. However, from mile 5 to mile 6 while he was doing his victory lap, i gradually started to catch up with him.

I thought I had no business beating him. I knew he was a lot better than me. But there I was catching up with him. He did not realize I was coming. That was the only thing. Everything was timed perfectly so that with 200 meters to go I was about 50 feet behind him and i got on my toes and started to move. He still had no idea I was there until I was flying by his side with 20 meters go.

He couldn't respond in time to the way I was hammering at the end, so i beat a guy that was probably 2 minutes faster than me in the 10k if we both were racing all out.

Oh sorry guys... and then I went home and Dropped the Jackhammer on my girlfriend.

Thinker of Complex Thoughts wrote:

Gorgeous George, you may think you're cute, but you're not hard to figure out. This thread threatens you. You're insecure about the lack of HAMMERS THAT YOU'VE DROPPED, and you're not creative enough to come up with something interesting to write about. As a result, your only contribution to a thread that plenty of people ARE enjoying is "this is boring."

You know what? You're boring. And I'd be willing to bet that your penis is in the bottom 10th percentile in both length and girth for LR posters.

Cue GG making an uncreative and generic comment about the thread being boring and how his penis is the size of a double-wide in 3...2...1...

Oh yeah? I HAD SEX WITH YOUR WIFE!

"HR careers? Homo racing careers? Dude, that was more than a little ghey. Sounds like you two took 'team bonding' to a whole new level."

Man, I even proof-read it. HS. High School. Not HR. That stands for Heart Rate.

i'm not finished. so i finish the race and i look to the sky and i beat my chest and i yell, 'KING KONG AINT GOT NOTHING ON ME' and no one can argue with that because i had just finished DROPPING THE HAMMER in such a manner that has not been done before. and the decathalete, he approaches me, solemn, defeated, and he bows down on his knees to me. i raise my hands and look to the rest of the team and say, 'and what now shall i do with he who just had the HAMMER DROPPED on.' and they all say, 'KILL HIM, KILL HIM.' and i look down at the decathalete and i say, 'and what does thou sayeth i shall do to you?' and he says, 'you have DROPPED THE HAMMER. do with me as you wish.' and after a dramatic pause i say to the decathalete, 'rise. rise young decathalete. rise and live. for aren't thou also my friend?' and i hold out my hand and lift him up and he has tears in his eyes and the rest of the team chears and chants my name, for they know that not only do i DROP THE HAMMER, but i also am merciful, and just.

Finally a good one

Our rival team in high school always used to beat us in the 4X800. I was the anchor and usually ran 1:53-1:55, but the rest of my team consisted of a 2 flat guy, a 2:05 guy, and a 2:10 guy. The other team had one guy just under 2 and three guys just over. So they didn't have anyone as fast as me, but by the time I got the baton they'd always have a huge lead. They intelligently always put their fastest guy against our slowest so that they'd blow the race open on the second or third leg (we were head and shoulders above the other teams in our district, so our strategies were pretty much all about beating each other and they didn't worry much about how they matched up against other teams.

These guys were pretty cocky and we'd always hear then bragging and stuff. That really pissed me off because individually, I could kick each of their asses. So they were bragging even though they were all slower than me.

Well at districts my junior year, we were sitting up at the top of the stadium bleachers and this rival team was sitting down below on the grass behind the bleachers. I went to put the spike wrench away in the toolbox full of spikes that our coach always kept around.

Well for some reason that I have never been quite sure of, there was a carpenter's hammer in the spike box. I have no idea why it was there, but the coach had thrown a hammer in with the various track related tools. Having just noticed the rival team sitting just below us, I knew that I had to DROP THE HAMMER.

So I pick up the hammer and casually stroll to the top of the bleachers. after taking a quick glance around to make sure no one is looking, I toss the hammer over the edge right over the 4X800 team that is located about 50 feet below.

I didn't wait to watch the result because I didn't want to be caught. I immediately turned around and sat down. Next thing I know, there is an ungodly scream and my whole team runs to the top of the bleachers and looks down. I'd been hoping that the hammer might hit their top guy's foot or something and just result in a little pain during the run that might give us an advantage. But when I looked down, the thing was sticking out of his head. The claw side of the hammer had just driven right into his skull. He was still conscious and totally freaked out. His whole team was dazed and the ambulance came to take the runner away.

Well the rival team didn't really have much depth beyond their top four. The replacement was a 2:20 guy. We won the 4X800 pretty easily after that.

On the way home, I was sitting right behind our coach on the bus. At one point, he opened his little toolbox to get something out. When he noticed that his hammer was gone, he put two and two together and realized what had happened. He turned and gave me a little smile and a nod and said "ha, oh you." He knew that I had DROPPED THE HAMMER."

6 years ago I did a road half-marathon on the slopes of a large mountain. The course was basically one long uphill, one LONG downhill, another uphill, another downhill and then a LONG uphill to the finish. I suck at downhills but am good at uphills.

At the top of the first hill I was leading with another guy. On the first big downhill I went as hard as I could but still dropped to about 15th. One of the last guys to pass me PATTED ME ON THE BACK as he went by. On the next uphill I DROPPED THE HAMMER ON HIM and he looked at me wide-eyed as I went by at the same speed I had been running on the downhill. I didn't condescend to pat him on the back. He wasn't worth the energy.

I ended up 3rd. The chump who patted me on the back was like 8th or 9th.