My dad was a Golden Gloves boxer in the state he grew up in. Typically, he never mentioned this to any of us kids or mom. We found this out one day when some local punks who had been throwing eggs at our house (because my oldest sister would not talk to one of them) decided to mess with dad as he was picking up his newspaper from the end of the driveway (he was in his early 40's at the time). These 4 guys stop in their little hot rod they were driving and start honking the horn and saying stuff to dad. We heard the commotion and looked out the window.
These punk "kids" we all 18 or older. And had been causing trouble all over the neighborhood for some time. Dad said something to them and they all jump out of the car. But not at the same time. He put the first two on the ground and then the second two. It was very fast. He hit each of them with the same exact combination that ended with a shot in the gut. The guys are all lying in the street. Dad picks up his paper and strolls up the driveway.
When he got in the house we asked him what happened. He says: "Oh, some fellows that think they want to be friends with your oldest sister were just visting". Then he reads his paper.
Dad is "old school". To this day I've never seen him mad. Heck, none of us "kids" have ever heard our parents argue. To me, Dad is the greatest man alive.