I broke my arm in a fight when I was a sophomore in high school.
My family had moved to Indianapolis towards the end of my freshman year and early in my sophomore year I knew virtually no one. On top of that, I was really short (5 foot tall around that time), so I got a lot of teasing as a result.
I was walking home from school and a bunch of kids about 2-3 years younger than me rode by on their bikes and one them talked **** as he rode by. In that 15-year-old mindset, there was no way I was going to let go, so I yelled, "Why don't you come back here and say that to my face, assholes!"
Already a stupid move considering I was outnumbered, like, 5 to 1.
The biggest kid emerged from the pack. He was a load, only slightly taller than me, but much wider. What I didn't know is that he was an accomplished wrestler. He went up to my face and said, "What did you say?"
Me, still being stupid as ****, said, "I called you an asshole!"
And then I punched him in the face.
The fight was on. I had been in fights before and I held my own for a while, but it was only a matter of time before the dude I was fighting got sick of trading punches and just decided to impose his physical will.
When he did, he grabbed me, picked me up and slammed my right shoulder into the ground. My bone broke right at the top of my right arm at the junction with the collarbone.
I immediately screamed in pain, and this dude being a wrestler, he knew what had happened. He immediately began to apologize, probably shocked to the marrow that the move he did (its name escapes me), actually broke someone's bone.
I was in a sling for a few months, but it was my own damn fault. I've used my dumbassary as an example to my kids as far as controlling their temper.
The kicker is that the kid I fought later won a state wrestling championship at my high school after I graduated, so at least I got my ass kicked by someone who accomplished something.